Beachcombing in Trinidad

Having spent two night at Jed Smith–what the locals call Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park–I was ready to get back on the road and continue south. Fortunately, the Redwoods Sate and Federal Parks would continue to be my riding partner for next several days, so too would the cold rain.

After spending the night camped within the grounds of a closed RV park in Klamath, on Wednesday afternoon I arrived in Trinidad, California. Once I realised I had not actually made the superhuman cycling effort I’d thought, I felt a little disappointed. My spirits were lifted, however, the moment I walked into the Beachcomber Café. Owned and operated by three energetic woman, this organic café was so full of charm, humour and wonderful food, I found myself still there well after two afternoon coffees. I stayed for dinner, dining on eggplant in a thick cream sauce, fried green tomatoes and baked root vegetables. Kamagra 100mg is an interesting treatment for viagra cialis samples pdxcommercial.com erectile brokenness. Moreover, it has also cut tadalafil generic uk the cost of the prescription, leaving the burden on the consumers. This medication is available to you in two levitra sale low dosage strengths of 2.5mg and 5mg. The partner not only remains sexually dissatisfied, but at the same time, she also loses interest in you. discount viagra no prescription With a cookie and a recommendation on where to camp, I finally left this delightful establishment, putting up tent in the rain.

For the next three days, I found myself either riding in the rain or drinking coffee glad I wasn’t still riding in the rain. In glum ironic fashion many of the miserable-looking towns I passed through had names like Fortuna or Eureka.

After spending all day Saturday riding against a cold, raining wind, I decided to call it a day in Garberville. Though I had hoped to make it to Leggett, I soon learned that my decision had been a good one; it was snowing in Leggett. Plus, there’s nowhere to camp nearby nor any motels in Leggett; just another intersection with a name. All of which I learned from the friendly woman at the local organic grocer. With hemp seed, cilantro pesto and a coffee in hand, I returned to the motel room to rotate Irene’s tires.