With word that my buddy Trevor Perelson was finally moving to Santa Cruz I immediately got in touch to go for a ride. The planning of that ride quickly turned into a backpacking trip scheduled for later that day. Although I had been feeling the symptoms of a cold creeping up I thought about the times when I was younger where going for a ride seemed to make the runny nose and cough go away. Figured that surely a non stop ride through the woods would heal me up fine. We grabbed our bikes, some burritos and hit the road a hour before dusk. Our plan was to follow the outer rim of Big Basin camp and wind up at the beech. No more than 200 feet from where the route turned into dirt did I get two flat tires. Shortly after Trev broke some spokes and his chain. With the guidance of our shitty headlamps we carried on for a few hours before setting up camp.
—Trevor Perelson, morning eyed corner rip on the way out of camp
—Chris Riesner roasting on the ocean
My first weekend relocating to Santa Cruz involved a lengthy single night bike ride thru Big Basin and Waddell Creek. The ride was a wee last minute and involved 3 flats, 2 broken spokes, and a snapped chain within a 2 hour period causing us to cycle thru the night to Sunset camp along Big Basins finest and driest redwoods (where the rain at?). The following morning After Chris and I side swiped each other on a turn smashing the avocados, we made it to Ano Nuevo and witnessed the oceans favorite mating elephant seals in full effect, rolling, sluggin, bathing, grunting. Those shark twinkies were a bit too big to fit in my frame so you’ll have to find em next January.
Well, come the end of the trip I ended up getting pretty sick and thus concluding that colds are not like hangovers, you can’t just sweat them out. But you know what, we never look back and think about the times we stayed in and slept all weekend but rather the places roamed and times had.