We’re taking a break at Leo Carrillo State Park, the last park north of Los Angeles. Tomorrow we head into the throes of LA. We went for a walk on the beach and then I retired to the tent to read my book. I just finished Adrift by Steven Callahan, a survival story of being lost at sea for 76 days. Needless to say, it quelled any interest in taking this adventure to the water. Sometimes it’s nice to do nothing, to lay here and watch the shadows of the trees dance in the wind. It’s nice to have a little quiet time.
Later in the afternoon I’m starting to fix dinner and I see a black blur zip by the hiker/biker site. But in the blur I catch a glimpse of blonde locks beneath a cap and I know this must be our Austrian friend, Gerald. Like a ninja, his signature style is all black. We rode with Gerald in Wyoming and Montana, but we’ve been behind him ever since our long layover in Missoula. The most recent note from him was something to the effect of “I am moving so slow waiting for you that my tent is growing roots”. Recently, we’ve been staying at the same campgrounds, just one or two days apart, so we knew we were close to catching him. Turns out we passed him yesterday. We had a great time catching up, talking long into the evening sharing stories from the road.