“Welcome to California,” the large sign with California poppy picture greeted me at the state line. Instead of seeing California poppy, I was surrounded by coast redwood trees for the most part of the Northern California journey. In fact, 101 is named as Redwood Highway.

Soon after passing the welcome sign, I entered the Tolowa Dee-ni Nation’s land. On September 22nd, the 56th Annual Native American Day, they celebrated a historic and unprecedented designation of Yurok-Tolowa-Dee-ni’ Indigenous Marine Stewardship Area – the first-ever ocean protection area designated by Tribal governments in the United States. I was excited to learn about and cycle along this new Tribal and State co-management area that stretches from the Oregon and California border to just south of Trinidad in Humboldt County. I saw other evidence of collaboration between the tribe and state when I entered Redwood National and State Parks. I noticed that signs and interpretive exhibits include indigenous names and stories to educate people about the local tribes, making sure that we know whose land we are on and the tribal members are still here.

I took time to bike and hike in the redwoods at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, bathing in the shades of deep greens and fresh air from the old growth trees, admiring giants that were over 1,000 years old, sauntering over soft duff to relax my feet and sitting still under trees to imagine what it’s like to stand in one place and witness changes over millennia. These trees hold ancient wisdom. I felt humbled and honored to be in their presence. Words such as “patience,” “rooted” and “long-term vision” came to my mind as their teachings, reminding me of making a long-lasting impact in the world.

I continued my ride on 101 and then took Hammond Coastal Trail to my friend Carla and her family’s home in Arcata. I stayed with them for the next three nights. One of my highlights of my bike trip is to reconnect with my old friends. The last time I saw them was a decade ago and her two daughters were too young to remember my visit. This time, they have grown up and welcomed me with incredible hospitality. Her oldest daughter gave up her bedroom for me to rest. At her bedside table, I found the most recent book that she was reading: Pacific Crest Trail Oregon and Washington! We connected and I hope to visit them again to continue our life-long friendship.

I left Arcata, feeling well-rested and strong. Not only they fed me well but also they had a hot tub that I soaked twice a day to loosen my tight and sore muscle. Even though I left in the afternoon, I covered 77 miles that day, riding one of my favorite detour routes off 101 called the “Avenue of the Giants” in Humboldt Redwoods State Park.

Riding through the redwood forest in the evening and early morning is magical, especially when the combination of the right amount of coastal fog and sunlight makes mystical filtered light through the trees known as “木漏れ日,” pronounces komorebi in Japanese. Our language has a noun to describe this particular type of beautiful light. I was able to ride through this phenomenal light when I turned off from 101 to 1, as I approached closer to the coast.

At Fort Bragg, I experienced the first puncture on my tire as I was crossing an intersection. Traditional bicycle has a tire and an inner tube. When you get flat, you have to take the inner tube out, inspect where the puncture is, patch it and put it back on. It is time-consuming and a lot of work, especially if you are on the side of the road and have to continue your journey. Many new bicycles have what it’s called tubeless tire setting. With tubeless, instead of an inner tube, there is liquid called sealant that fills micro puncture as soon as it happens. If the hole is too big for the sealant to work its magic, the fluid flies out of the tire. When that happens, all you have to do is to insert a special small plug which permanently fixes the puncture. I never had done it before and I was nervous and hesitant. I remembered what Aparna taught me – “inject a plug just like an EpiPen.” So I did it and it worked!! It took less than 3 minutes for me to review the manual and fix the problem. Now I understand why Naoko, my high school friend and an avid mountain bike rider in Vancouver, insisted me to experience tubeless riding.

The next day, strangely, the wind direction shifted and it was coming directly from the south. Even in the early morning, I was riding against 8-9 miles per hour headwind and it was consistent all day. I crossed the Gualala River which draws the county line between Mendocino and Sonoma. I loved riding on the Sonoma coast. There was less hills compared to what I have done in northern California. The scenery was majestic and the road was well-maintained. There wasn’t much shoulder on the highway and there were many signs that warning drivers that cyclists may take up full lane. I would rather have no shoulder. Shoulder is not a bike lane. We have equal access to ride on the road. With little or no shoulder, cyclists have to ride on the road and vehicles are forced to slow down and move over to the other lane to pass the bicyclist. Sometimes they honk me, and I prefer being honked over riding on shoulder of the road. 

I saw the first group of California quails at Fort Ross State Historic Park. Seeing familiar birds, I felt home. California laurel, Douglas fir and tanoak became more common trees. Of course, poison oak was everywhere. Despite the constant headwind, I made it to Marin County and spent a night at Samuel P. Taylor State Park, one of my favorite bike ride destinations from my home in Marin Headlands. From there, I took a backroad to San Francisco the next day. Everything was familiar and strangely, I acted like a tourist as I had never been before. I stopped and took photos and videos, reflecting back my journey from Canada.

In San Francisco, before I headed over to my friends’ house, I stopped at one of my go-to grocery stores in the city. As I was locking my bicycle, another cyclist pulled in and he asked where I was riding from. I said, “I started in Vancouver, Canada.” He said, “Really? And you just came in?” I responded, “Yeah, just now.” He said, “Wow, just like that?”

I thought, yes, just like that. It was strange. It was so normal. It was extraordinary. It was ordinary. I guess that’s how it feels to be home – just like that.