Day One to El Cajon

I breathed a bug in the early morning while passing a strawberry field of Oxnard.  I felt it twitching in my throat and spoke harshly and loudly to the intruder.  If it was a vocal bug I’m sure it responded, but I didn’t hear if it did.  I think it must have been terrified in the dark cavity into which it had flown or into which it was sucked, a kind of Jonah in great distress.  I think it got tangled in my shrieking vocal chords; at least that’s how it felt.  I haven’t seen or felt the bug for some time now or I’d ask how it felt to be so close that our vocal chords entangled, and together made new sounds.

But that was the only distress on a mostly pleasant ride from Ventura to South Pasadena.  I’ve taken a certain route all these years of making the trip to my sister’s house. I studied it some fifteen years ago and have it so memorized that I seldom consult a map.  But this time I diverted from habit and followed the new Google recommendations for cyclists.  I entered my two end points and asked for the best bicycle route.  Google took me along bike trails I did not know existed, and mostly along streets that are residential and not crowded with cars.  Where cars abound, then in most cases a bike lane kept me reasonably far from their threat.  My old route was good, but the Google route is better.

Strawberry pickers in Cararillo, on the way up to Simi Valley.  I think it is not possible to start earlier in the morning than farm workers in Santa Clara River Delta.

The organic produce from Underwood Farm in Moorpark is just like that of the Caltech Poetry Garden: every bit as much; every bit as good. Three photos below:

One of the many pleasures in riding a bicycle over great distances is finding a little locally-owned coffee shop after about thirty miles in mid-morning. Southern California is mostly devoid of them, ranking far below the Midwest.  But if you are ever pedaling through Simi Valley on such an occasion, I can highly recommend Jerry’s Coffee Shop on Los Angeles Street just west of the train station on the north side.

After Simi Valley comes the long climb up and over Santa Susana Pass.  I take a twisty road not far from the 118 Freeway.  It’s always a pleasure to see the summit and know that a roller coaster awaits just over the top. 

And here it is folks.  It might as well be Mt. Everest!

While I was pushing long and hard to get over the pass, a train was gliding through a tunnel underneath me, and cars were rushing along the freeway.  But they were not having as much fun. 

Is this a scene from Yosemite Valley, or from Joshua Tree?  No, just part of Rocky Peak near Santa Susana Pass. 

After The Pass, I slid down into The Valley at Chatsworth, and found a bike trail along the river.  It provided a few miles of solace before the maze of streets and congestion that we call home.  It wasn’t bad though, I found more home than congestion.

 I didn’t know about the new busway along Victory Boulevard.  And better than the busway is the bike path beside it.  It’s a safe route, but difficult at the street crossings.The pedestrian and bike signals keep us waiting and sometimes seem not to work at all.  

From Balboa eastward, the bike path is less transected by streets and more pleasant.





I’m a little hoarse today from singing with the bug, but otherwise fine and resting here at home for three days without a car before proceeding south.  I might hold out a sign: “Will write poetry for a lift.”