Befuddled was I this a.m. when the sky was not sunny and I - shudder - had to wear a jacket. Sigh. Life is so complex.
By 11:30 or so the marine layer lifted and the breeze had only a hint of a chill. That's when I began the 18 mile very moderate uphill stretch along Hwy 1 to its intersection with Hwy 101. Occasionally the road flattened out in a shaded canyon and my sweaty shirt wasn't keeping me warm. Zipping and unzipping my wind vest was the order of the day for a very nice chilly hilly February bike ride. On 101, it was an all downhill zoom to the beach, zipped up all the way.
Gaviota State Beach is not the prettiest campground on the coast, but it's in the perfect spot for my allotted mileage budget. So here I am, all camped out and pretty sure I'm in for a windy, cold night followed by a still, foggy, chilly morning. No big deal, but I'm not looking forward to packing up a wet tent.
This is my last night before I arrive in Santa Barbara, which means a cheapskate, clean-out-the-food-bag dinner and breakfast in camp. Usually when I get to this point I say "no way I'm eating this junk," but Gaviota is isolated. I can't just chuck all these scraps in the trash can and walk down the road to a diner.
So here is what I ate for dinner tonight. Several mouthfuls of cashews-peanuts-craisins-raspberries gorp, a packet of tuna with some quasi-smashed crackers, a huge mound of Fritos (the big, wide dipping Fritos are approximately 7 to 9 times tastier than the stupid little skinny ones), a crunchy granola oats and honey knockoff brand energy bar, a bowl of raisin bran with powdered Nido milk (that's the best powdered milk on Earth - I estimate that Nido is 10 to 20 times better than Carnation), all washed down with campground spigot agua flavored with tangerine EmergenC powder.
Then I ground-squirrel-and-raccoon proofed my remaining food on a tree limb and put the Dream Machine in the "garage" for the night before building my drought-conscious votive candle campfire. I'm all set for sunset.
Peace, Love, and Crickets on the Beach,