the cross-country celebration!

Though the end had been in sight for several days, I think it really hit most of us our last official host location, a very generous church in San Rafael, California. Their driveway was (appropriately) a 25% grade hill and I arrived to the church courtyard huffing and puffing. Once off of my bike, I noticed their incredible view of the San Francisco Bay, with (this remains debatable) the tip of the Golden Gate Bridge visible. Different church members took us to their houses for showers. In the car, our host informed us that the water we saw was, in fact, the Pacific Ocean. I silently contemplated planning a brief escape from the church to dip my tires in the water and be finished riding forever. However, the idea of riding in a 31 person parade to and over the Golden Gate was ultimately just a bit too appealing to turn down.

We were permitted to sleep in that last morning. And when the morning routine started at 7:00 the excitement was tangible. I, for one, was thrilled that it would be the last official "wake-up" call, the last morning where I groggily put on spandex, and the last time I had to fight with my sleeping bag to get it into the tiny stuff-sack.

Our route meeting (or group meeting -- I never figured out what they were calling for in the morning) was followed by group pictures overlooking the water and we set out. We had decided that we would travel all together, and had sort of elected one of the guys to lead us into San Francisco. He was chosen, not only for his patience, but for his concern safety; he's been donning a high-lighter yellow safety vest over his jersey for the better part of the country.

I think that the parade would have been a bit easier to execute if we had been in, say -- one of the plain states. Even the suburbs of San Francisco are notably hilly; but we pressed on, with tires almost touching. Few of us were familiar with the area, so we scanned for monuments with every bend in the road, anxiously anticipating the sudden appearance of the Golden Gate Bridge. Then at mile 17, we turned a corner and we could see the bridge, enormous and so surprisingly close. Before we knew it, we were with the rest of the tourists at the rest stop on the north side of the bridge. It was there that we proceeded to take about a thousand pictures and to take over the entire tourist area.

From there we set out to actually cross the bridge. I was a little disappointed that we weren't riding on the road, but instead on the sidewalk/bike lane with the pedestrians and families on rental bikes. (We later read that there is a company that rents out bikes so people can ride the bridge, and then picks them up and shuttles them back after the mile ride.) Despite the sidewalk, it was pretty cool. The weather was warm and the whole city was visible; and there was a whole group of friends and family waiting at the end of the bridge. I determined that I probably needed a few pictures from this side of the bridge as well, and hopped off of my bike to take them.

Almost directly below the bridge is a city park and we continued down to the water. As I neared the beach, I saw my aunt, uncle and cousin, who said "we were worried when we didn't see you, but your mother said you would be towards the end!" (Thanks mom).

We dropped our bikes and ran into the water. Then got out and grabbed our bikes and ceremonially dipped our front tires. Wet, and content, we had lunch on the beach, with the Golden Gate Bridge as a backdrop. The only negative of the entire celebration was that one slightly over-eager mother had made those eggs filled with confetti and had smashed about nine on my head.