Cambria to Blackwell's Corner, CA
After heading south along the scenic HWY 1 for the first few days of our trip we held a sense of nervous anticipation for our embarkation east. For the first time we would start to make ground towards the other ocean and out into, what was at least true for all three of us, the great unknown. The Pacific Ocean, though filled with some pretty tough biking terrain, offered a sense of comfort. In the constant flow of water and the semi methodical placement of towns we could rest assure that we might end up high or dry, but not both. Once we turned off onto HWY 46 out of Cambria there was an almost instant feeling of vastness that the interior owns in such a different way than the ocean. Maybe it is because I do not know the ocean in the same light that the sailor type might but it is also because I have spent just enough time in the middle of nowhere to be reminded of the feeling.
That first night, perched underneath a tree high on the hillside that seemed to be the apex of the coastal range, we could still make out the ceaseless horizon of the ocean. We knew that it would be quite sometime before we would run into sister Atlantic but after several days of getting into shape on the winding and windy cliffs we were all just fine with that.