For most of 2025, Douglas, Ten, and I are traveling the west coast and Pacific Northwest. We left Salida, Colorado on February 22, and headed west. Our loose plan is Arizona, California, Oregon, Washington, BC, and beyond. Scroll down to the bottom for chronological updates, or right below this message for the most recent post.
Point Reyes / Marin Headlands
3.29.25
Point Reyes National Seashore is home to SO MANY elephant seals. So many that the National Parks Service sometimes closes beaches to protect newborn pups. And at the westernmost point, exceptional whale watching. I biked from Woodacre to the lighthouse and back, meeting Douglas at the halfway point for a sandwich and cookie. The road was surprisingly hilly, but rolling (so no epic climbs). The happiest cows in the world lined the way of the tropical countryside. A totally enjoyable 70-mile ride with 5,300 feet of up and down, never reaching higher than 400 feet above sea-level.
The following morning we set out from the Marin Headlands parking lot at 6:30am for a romp around the famed trails. I somehow didn’t know the area was a military base during WWII. We hiked up Hill 88, which served as a radar station for the Nike missile launch. It’s honestly kind of creepy to be running around an abandoned and graffiti riddled military zone. I’m glad the area is being used for recreation, but I didn’t expect to be on old paved roads for the majority of the morning.
Not-Vacation (?)
3.26.25
It continues to be interesting to be on a trip that’s so ongoing but also ever-changing. If we were here in Marin for a week of vacation and this was our break from Colorado, I think I’d be more forgiving of bumps in the road or disappointing encounters. Because, after all, we’d be on vacation and let’s just enjoy what’s good. But because this isn’t exactly vacation, it’s actually easier to judge and hold a place a bit accountable.
Where Santa Cruz felt open (tons of free beaches, open to the public—including dogs—with benches and dog-bag stations everywhere), Marin feels closed-off. The country club/community center in Woodacre is only open to people who live in the area. And at the community swim at the high school, where anyone can swim for $8, the (always older) women in charge are staunchly rude. The general vibe is, this is not achievable for almost anyone and we’d like to keep it that way.
Still, the riding and running are great. And the huge variety of food is expensive but good.
One thing we didn’t think about when we left Colorado is that there aren’t many pests or poisonous plants that live where we were (above 7,000 ft.) We had completely forgotten about ticks and poison oak, both of which we’ve encountered in Marin. We had to take Ten into the Fairfax vet to have several ticks removed, and get him started on Front Line. And we’ve been using Tecnu daily.
Ah the price you pay to be in a lush, coastal area with abundant resources.
Big Alta
3.24.25
I’ve been looking forward to running in Marin County, California since we left for this trip. We’ve been in the area before, but I’ve never gotten the chance to really explore. So I signed up for the Big Alta—a race that attracts pros looking to bust the rust and start their season strong.
But then I crashed my bike 3 days before. So going into the race I was more than a little banged up, and super intimidated to fall on an already bruised and wounded body. So I took it easy and just enjoyed the day. Saturday was the 50K, which was super fun to spectate, and Sunday I ran the 28K, more than enough for me, with more than 4,000 feet of climbing and descending.
The trails and the views were unreal. We got above the morning fog within the first few miles, and then the inversion lingered as we danced above it. You could see the bridge and the whole city still sitting in the clouds. Most of the race was straight up or straight down on fire roads, but there were some fun rolling sections of trail through the trees as well.
Dylan Bowman (DBo) is a great host, as these are his backyard trails and he loves to show them off. It was super fun to talk to David Roche, even though he had a rough day and had to DNF after a sprained ankle. The trail running community is so small and so loving.
Even though there wasn’t anything particularly impressive about my day, it was such a fun experience and one that I want more of.
Soquel Demonstration Forest
3.21.25
You know a place is good when you still want to move to it after crashing. I took the road bike out for some climbing on the roads surrounding Santa Cruz. Up Empire Grade and down Ice Cream Grade, then back to town on the “highway.” The loop was great! There are so many roads to explore. But then, I’m still not sure exactly what happened. I was only 2 miles from being back at the Airbnb when my bike slid out from under me and I was on the ground. I was riding on the cycleway (so cool) and crossed the trolley tracks. I don’t know if there was sand on the path, or my tire slipped on the tracks, but it was a hard, fast fall. And I lost a fair amount of skin from both legs and arms.
Still, for our final day (the morning after the crash), I desperately wanted to check out the “Demo” trails north of town. And I’m so glad we went for it. The forest is managed by Cal-Fire, and they built a series of flow trails 10 years ago that are worth the climb up the old fire roads. There was even a crew out working on the trails when we went through. This ride was easily in my Top 5 mountain bike rides ever. Something about the enormous redwoods and the vibrant green moss. I’d love to ride that flow over and over.
Santa Cruz, Santa Cruz, Santa Cruz
3.19.25
I’m an immediate fan. It’s wild when you fall in love with a place as soon as you’re there. Like, this is what I’ve been looking for all along. And, of course I don’t know if that’s actually true. And, of course I know every place has its flaws. But damn, Santa Cruz checks a lot of boxes. First, the weather is perfect. Throughout the entire year the average high never gets above 70-degrees and never below 60-degrees. Lows in the 40s and 50s.
On my first run down the Cliff Drive walkway to Capitola Beach, there were all ages out at 7am. Older folks, college kids, and everything in between. There were dozens of people already well into their daily surf. Folks biking, running, walking dogs.
Within city limits, and all around, there are state parks with all kinds of different ways to explore. Tons of opportunities for road biking, mountain biking, swimming, and learning new skills. The climbing gym (Pacific Edge) is old-school and welcoming, with classes just for women, and weekly how-to sessions for anyone. A block away is Verve Coffee, which…going to the gym before sunrise and then heading over to get a good hot beverage…tough to beat.
Even though there’s literally TONS of money here, it feels like a throwback. Most of the houses are old bungalows from the 50s. It doesn’t feel like people are flaunting their money, probably because if you’re here, you’ve got it. Things actually feel simple.
So far my tally of places visited:
Tucson: 5.5/10
Joshua Tree: 6.5/10
San Bernardio: 3/10
Morro Bay: 7/10
Santa Cruz: 10/10
To the Rock
3.17.25
After so much rain in San Berardino and LA, we arrived to Morro Bay for two nights of camping at the state park and some much needed blue sky. While sea level brings serious humidity, it also brings those sea breezes that feel spectacular after grinding up a trail on the mountain bike. The temperatures stayed between 55 and 65, and I’m still getting used to temperature swings that aren’t 30-degrees as they are in the desert and in Colorado.
In our 3 days in the Morro Bay / Los Osos area, we managed to pack in quite a few activities, and got a good taste of the place. This is honestly the first area that has felt really fun and different. Everything up until now has been interesting with some glowing moments, but not exceptional. Morro Bay is a cool little community where people surf and swim in wet suits, and then gather at the local outdoor sauna before grabbing coffee and bagels.
We admittedly also saw way too many Cybertrucks, including one being used as a business vehicle. Double gross.
When it Rains it Pours
3.13.25
After nine years of living in Colorado, I almost forgot what steady rain is like. Colorado—especially Salida—almost never experiences rain. We get monsoon season in the summer, which involves occasional afternoon downpours that last a few minutes, but never steady rain or thunderstorms. And after 2+ weeks in the desert—Tucson and Joshua Tree—three days of nonstop rain (and more coming) was not on our radar. This hasn’t just been drizzle. This has been hard, hard, legit rain.
And while I’d like to have more days like our first one here, and bike up to Big Bear Lake instead of spending most of our time indoors, this is part of it. Booking a place in a less-than-ideal neighborhood, developing an annoying injury, and experiencing completely unexpected weather, is all part of being on a long-term adventure.
Hopefully better days are ahead! On the plus side, we got to check out a super nice climbing gym in Redlands. If I lived in the area I would be there often.
Where the Streets Have No Name
3.11.25
One of my favorite things in the whole world is how overwhelming memory can be that’s attached to music. I know the same can be true about smells and tastes, but for me, there’s nothing more intense than the music-memory connection. Needless to say, U2’s Joshua Tree played in the background of many of my formative years. And so Joshua Tree (the place) has always seemed like a sort of fictional place. Which is fitting, because the National Park feels very Dr. Seussian. Prickly oddities that seem to each have their own personality, as far as the eye can see. Accompanied by hilarious, seemingly random, piles of enormous boulders.
We arrived to the park before sunrise on Sunday and found that this is not like Rocky Mountain, where no matter the season there are folks arriving before first light. The whole area was still asleep. We parked by 6:15am and jogged a 7-mile loop to a stunning sunrise without the company of any other people. We saw the Lost Horse Mine, which produced more than 10,000 ounces of gold and 16,000 ounces of silver between 1894 and 1931. We drove out as others were just arriving. We stopped at the ranger station to check in and show our annual pass.
Later that afternoon I biked to Giant Rock, which has its own strange history. Enormous free-standing boulders were believed to be the landing sight for aliens. For decades people have been making the pilgrimage down the deep-sand roads to play music and soak up the vibes. It’s like a movie, where everyone deeply believes the totally unbelievable plot.
There is something electric about the whole area of Joshua Tree though—like time stands still, or ceases to exist. Ironically, the Daylight Saving time change occurred while we were there, but because we had just crossed from AZ to CA and switched time zones, we didn’t have to make an adjustment. It also happened to be the 38th birthday of the U2 album. Which only made me blast the familiar tunes on repeat. Joshua Tree is true desert. Dry, sandy, the kind of place where death could come quick. But it’s not scary—just a different reality.
Desert sky, dream beneath the desert sky.
The rivers run but soon run dry.
Escaping The Truman Show
3.06.25
When we put our basic itinerary together for this trip, we essentially just strung together places where we could see people we care about. One thing we’ve missed living in a mountain town, is meaningful conversation that sparks creativity. I talked to a friend in Salida about this before leaving. She’s been there for 15 years and travels A LOT throughout the year: domestically and internationally. One of the reasons she thinks people in Salida “like to keep it polite,” is that many who have landed in mountain towns really are trying to escape. They don’t want to think about challenging issues or be put in situations where they have to stretch their understanding. They don’t want to confront the problems of the world. They just want to make small-talk, enjoy perfect trails, see beautiful things, and know exactly what every single day will look like.
And that’s fine! In fact, it’s totally desirable. There are a ton of things about The Truman Show that make life such a relief. No noise, no traffic, you never have to lock your doors, sunshine almost every day of the year, polite neighbors, and everyone “gets” the priority of exercise and adventure.
But there’s a lot lost when every day is the same. I think that’s a major motivation of this trip. To be reminded of how much there is to see and experience.
Altitude Adjustment
3.03.25
Living at above 7,000 feet elevation for 4.5 years, I’ve obviously taken trips down to lower elevations, but each time I “come down” I feel like I realize or experience something different. Physical activity is, of course, significantly easier. But it’s not like most people might expect. It’s all about heart rate. Leg muscles and tendons still get worked and feel tired, but overall exhaustion is so minimal. You might feel sore, but never tired. I ran a flat 30K this morning and my heart rate never went above 133 for a continuous 2 hours and 45 minutes. If I had perfect feet and hamstrings, I definitely could have run the entire thing much faster.
We did a beautiful hike/trail run on Saturday (Agua Caliente summit trail) and went from around 3,000 feet elevation to above 6,000 feet elevation. Similar hikes in Colorado, that would take us from 8,000 feet to above 11,000 feet, would be so much more difficult and would require more time to recover. And this is all as fully acclimated, highly active people.
Swimming is also so easy by comparison. I realize now that the reason swimming always felt so difficult at 7,000 feet is because my heart was working so much harder. Knowing that altitude training is real is one thing, but experiencing it long term is pretty wild.
Another thing I’ve noticed being low this time is sleep quality. In Salida my sleep was never great—even after years of living there. Or more, a great night of sleep was a rarity that didn’t even happen once a week. In Tucson, I’ve slept incredibly well. Eight hours of solid sleep every single night. At first I thought I was super tired, but then I realized it’s just easier on the body to sleep this low. My resting heart rate is probably almost 10 beats lower. Likely around 38. In Salida my resting heart rate is probably more like 45. That honestly makes an enormous difference. Science!
My altitude super powers won’t last forever, but it’s fun to enjoy it for now!
National Parks
2.27.25
I biked from our Airbnb in Tucson to Saguaro National Park at sunrise this morning. The first 5 miles were on an annoyingly busy road, and despite a wide bus/bike lane, it was not pleasant. But then the route took me down a more residential road for the remaining miles to the park entrance. When I arrived, there were only a few others in line, and they moved through quickly. I renewed our annual parks pass, and told the ranger this was my first time to Saguaro. His face lit up and he told me about the 8-mile drive that’s great for biking.
It was indeed a great loop. Rolling and quiet. Gambel’s quail darted across the pavement, as did little jackrabbits. I always think about how many animals live in national parks.
Over the course of the year I hope to visit several national parks, many that I’ve never been to before. When I was young, almost all of our family vacations centered around a national park. Grand Canyon, Zion, Bryce, Arches, Rocky Mountain. My brother and I were always allowed to choose one souvenir at the gift shop. I took this very seriously. At Rocky Mountain, I chose a long-sleeved t-shirt with an image of the park on the front, and “Rocky Mountain / National Park” down the sleeves. It was my favorite shirt of all time. I honestly wish I still had it. I wore it as often as possible and constantly asked my parents why they didn’t try to get jobs in Estes Park so that we could live in the mountains forever. I literally ached to be back in that place whenever I looked at the shirt.
I’m super worried about our national parks and federally protected land. I very much hope this isn’t the last year that visiting these places is possible.
New Normal
2.25.25
Only three days in and I’m already struck by how many adjustments have to be made for this kind of lifestyle. Despite working remotely, this trip will no doubt feel like an extended vacation for a very long time. I’m sure it will always feel like we’re eventually going home. And I suppose the reason days feel so long on vacation is because there’s no normal. Even a dog walk involves streets and parks you’ve never seen. And even with a version of routine nothing is ordinary. Just being away for a few days makes clear the pluses and minuses of “home.”
Tucson is sprawling and it’s impossible to turn left when driving. Big box stores are king. The hills in the distance are dry and covered with threatening sharp things. Someone told us before we left that all the animals in Tucson have scales. But we’ve actually seen a lot of rabbits. Their scales must be on the inside. We’re here for two weeks.
The University of Arizona campus is so nice, and the newly renovated pool is top notch. After mountain town living it’s kind of wild to go to a grocery store and get everything you’re looking for plus a newspaper.
It Begins.
Starting February 22, 2025, we’re on the road! We put most of our belongings in storage in Salida, Colorado, and set off. Our van is packed with bikes and a few bins of clothing and gear. By day two we already wished we had packed less. Our tentative itinerary includes Arizona, California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Alberta. As someone who has used social media quite a bit, I thought I’d go old-school to document the trip: travelog.
