New Brighton to Monterey – 43 miles
I welcome the return of cloudy skies. Sunday morning traffic through Aptos is light and hills are few as The Road takes me on its 40-mile crescent around Monterey Bay.
Today’s leg is brought to me by agriculture, notably by hundreds of acres of strawberry fields forever, starting from Manresa Uplands State Beach to well past the Pajaro River.
Artichokes abound as well, nearing the point of harvest.
The bike route makes a detour to keep me away from Watsonville and Castroville, sending me instead along eerily quiet roads, their asphalt beaten by generations of tractors and agricultural machinery.
The detour is meant to shave off a couple of miles, but the end of the day’s ride begins to feel farther and farther away, and even the change from Santa Cruz into Monterey County doesn’t make me feel any closer. I rejoin thunderous, two-lane traffic on Highway 1 through Moss Landing to reach Del Monte Boulevard and the Monterey Bay Coastal Recreation Trail.
The trail is a triumph of rails-to-trails planning, stretching 18 miles from Castroville in the north to Pacific Grove in the south, over the Southern Pacific railroad tracks that used to serve Cannery Row. Today it is a priceless urban asset, accommodating joggers, cyclists, pedestrians and young families.
Well thought-out though the trail may be, I manage a wrong turn on it and spend more time studying the map than pedaling. Worse yet, an afternoon tailwind has turned into a strong crosswind, less vexing than a headwind but equally unwelcome when you’ve lost your way and are already doubting The Road’s benign indifference. The mile markers for Monterey don’t help; they never appear often enough and when they do, they don’t count down fast enough. It’s Nature’s way of reminding me how far 43 miles really is.
Eventually, signs for Monterey’s tourist attractions appear, and my mood improves. So much so, that I pause for a selfie at a tiny pop-up protest on the outskirts of town.
I’ve planned a two-night stay in a Monterey hotel on the inland side of the peninsula. My nephew treats me to dinner at a Mexican restaurant and schools me on the personal trainer’s approach to balanced nutrition for physically hellacious endeavors like the one on which I’ve embarked.
“Fats and proteins, Uncle John. Your body makes energy from those. That’s what you’re gonna need to get through this.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“May I have your beans, then?”
“Sorry. I need them. I’ll order another side for you, though.”
Later, in my hotel room on Munras Avenue, I look forward to catching up on sleep and functioning more or less normally for a day and a half. I also intend to give my legs a break the next day.
Nevertheless, I intend to take the excursion that every visit to the Monterey Peninsula should include—especially when cyclists get to take it at no cost.