Day 25: Gualala - Guerneville, 80km

The raccoons in Gualala were obviously party animals and early in the morning we woke to hear a stampede running around our tents. Of course I was happiest with this notion, as opposed to any other that I could concoct. The site was next to a river in an area well sheltered by slender trees. When the wind picked up, it sounded like we were back on the highway with traffic droning past us, and every so often there was a crack, silence, then a thud as branches chose their targets. Regardless, I slept well and we woke to an unharmed tent.


Back on hwy 1 we passed Sea Ranch which I think is a holiday resort. It is one of the biggest conurbations we have passed and yet, uninvitingly every road was labelled 'private' and 'no trespassing'. As we cycled through Stewarts Point and Fort Ross it was clear the high winds of yesterday had quelled , and yet they still took me off guard a few times.


Between Fort Ross and Jenner the road hugged the coastline, a few 100ft up. Reaching the top of a tiny climb, Tim decided to relieve his saddle pressure, hence grinding almost to a stop. At the same time we passed a car with its handcuffed occupant being dragged out by a gun wielding police officer. We carried on pedalling.


Before Jenner we had a long drop but the gusts of wind were still bothering me. I am obviously far less hardy than I thought or would like to admit. In Jenner we stopped at a restaurant claiming to have fine dining 0 Tim looked at me and I smelt Tim - I'm not sure they would have let us in. A lovely lady gave us great directions to a cafe further along our route so off we went towards Duncans Mills, heading for the wine country.


Derek had given us great directions (and suggestions) and as we pulled onto Moscow off hwy 116 we saw our first cafe of the day. The pastries were so good and lunch so late incoming that we had more than one.


Basking in the sunshine we lounged for a while. Derek had mentioned a bar called the pink elephant in Monte Rio, but as we passed it a few minutes later we decided we didn't deserve yet more rests.


At Guerneville we stopped at the visitor centre. I had suggested 4 walls and a roof for the evening and Tim agreed, booking us into Fern Grove Cottages. We were met by a funny lady who was friendly as ever but full of the usual woeful tales that locals seem to feel the need to tell us - run over cyclists and runners! It is funny that people don't seem to think we understand the brevity of cycling on American highways... She did however recommend a great place for dinner - the Garden Grill, although she had to warn us it wasn't gourmet!


As we walked up to the restaurant, Tim stood across the road not too impressed: 'It looks like a fast food joint' he said. As we entered we were met by a trendy organic type. The burgers were handmade and the only thing fast about them was the speed at which they disappeared from our plates.


A couple on the next table started asking us what we were up to. As we ordered a second helping of the most amazing cheesecake everybody laughed. The couple (two ladies) were keen to tell us they had their pyjamas on and were impressed to find out that English students had carved out such a fashion to address their morning laziness in getting to lectures.