Day 20: Ferndale - Petrolia, 47km.

A man's work is never done...

Tim, in an attempt to prove men can multi-task, took his dish washing up a hill with him. At 1pm we pulled into Petrolia, to find a thermometer reading 98F. There was no way I was going to cycle any further.

From Ferndale we followed a 7 mile climb along Mattole Road which brought us out into open prairies. The sun was so ferocious that we both donned long sleeves whilst praying we would enjoy the solace of shade at some point soon.

Suddenly the road gave us a steep descent towards Capetown. It was barely enjoyable due to the extent of potholing and steep narrow bends. At Capetown, sprayed on the floor was 'Don't puke now'. 5 minutes later we struggled up the steepest climb i think I have ever seen in my life. Although it was only 1.5 miles long, at some points you had to cycle along the yellow line in the middle to avoid the debilitating camber at the edge of the road, willing you to fall off. The camber was so severe, that when trying to get out of it and around the corner, you could feel the front of the bike pulling away from the road in an attempt to up end you. For the first time I was using my granny ring and wishing i had some gears left! The route, it transpires, is called the Lost Coast as it is so mountainous they couldn't get a highway over it!

The road brought us down again, past Cape Mendocino and onto our first flat of the day along the lost coast. Here we found a big rock which had two inches of shade and there I cowered!

For the next 7 miles maybe we enjoyed flat undulations, until we peeled away from the coast and inland up towards Petrolia. The gradient at this point was a lot friendlier but after the climbs to date and heat of midday I may as well have been climbing Mt. Everest on 700 x 20s.

From the peak of our climb (500ft), we let go of the brakes, as our tyres married with the freshly laid road, and cycled into Petrolia not so much tired form the effort but from the heat.

On seeing our first shop of the day (yes - even in America food can be a trip away) we downed icy cold water and Pepsi. Apparently looking the least disheveled of the pair - Tim with a dishcloth on his head and me looking like a french onion seller - I was sent to find lodgings. 10 minutes later I had secured us the only room in the place, at the Lost Inn. I guess they don't have people staying that frequently, as Gail told me to come back in an hour so she could sort out the room!
Decamped outside the local store, we spent the next hour speaking to probably every individual that lived in the village. We even bumped into a guy who recognised us from the day before. Finally in our room we spent the afternoon lying in star shapes.