Planned to get to Bodega Dunes State Beach, and it wasn't meant to happen. After a late start from the library in the cute town of Point Arena, the going was fairly smooth until I got a back tire flat, flat 4 of the trip. No problem, changed the tube out for a new one, but 25 minutes after getting back on the road I got another flat. Upon examination I found a hole in the rim tape on the inside of the wheel, and though it didn't look like anything was poking through- I'd noticed the hole earlier- investigation revealed that both flats were in the same exact spot, so apparently the hole was the culprit. By now it was around 5:30 pm, and not only was I out of spare tubes making it necessary to patch one of the leaky tubes, but my rear tire was getting out of true again, so that it was rubbing on both the frame and the brake. I'd only ever trued a tire twice, and in a shop with a truing stand, never in the field. Besides, although I suspected this was the problem, for all I knew there could be some other cause for the wobbliness I was experiencing. Time to call it an evening, but I was still 20 miles from Bodega Dunes State Beach. Riding was pretty s
ucky because of the rear tire rubbing and being so out of true that riding was starting to feel unsafe. I could try to hitchhike to Bodega Bay with my bike and bring the bike to the shop the next day, but I wasn't sure that Google Information was right about there being a bike shop in town since it wasn't mentioned in my book. On both sides of the road were LOTS of "private property" signs
. I took 30 minutes to make up my mind, and finally took everything out of the trailer, threw it over the fence, then the trailer, then the bike, and I made someone else's private property my home for the night. It was one of my favorite campsit
es of the entire trip. Although i was only 30 feet from Highway 1, I was hidden by a small grove of conifers, and 200 meters out across golden fields was a drop-off of 200 feet to a rocky ocean. Several times throughout the night I heard sea lions, though I saw none when I woke up the next morning and walked out to the edge of the cliff.
ucky because of the rear tire rubbing and being so out of true that riding was starting to feel unsafe. I could try to hitchhike to Bodega Bay with my bike and bring the bike to the shop the next day, but I wasn't sure that Google Information was right about there being a bike shop in town since it wasn't mentioned in my book. On both sides of the road were LOTS of "private property" signs
. I took 30 minutes to make up my mind, and finally took everything out of the trailer, threw it over the fence, then the trailer, then the bike, and I made someone else's private property my home for the night. It was one of my favorite campsit
es of the entire trip. Although i was only 30 feet from Highway 1, I was hidden by a small grove of conifers, and 200 meters out across golden fields was a drop-off of 200 feet to a rocky ocean. Several times throughout the night I heard sea lions, though I saw none when I woke up the next morning and walked out to the edge of the cliff.
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