Learning Some Respect (Mid Big Sur Region to Santa Cruz)

Phil
My Ride
Firstly it is important to admit to everyone that I have cheated in the last few days. I have been offered two rides and have taken both of them . The first was through the second half of the Big Sur region which was about 50 miles, a full day of bike riding. I know that this seems like kind of a cop out, especially since that is one of the hilliest sections of the trip, but it was the only possible way that I was going to get around the hole in highway. Later that day I made it to Monte Ray taking another ride of about 20 miles from Monte ray to Moss landing, which is where I stayed on a sail boat in a yacht club with my new friend Phil. Although I could have easily ridden this section it is was through an industrial area, (not really worth it) and a lot of sprayed farm land (which Phil informed me has deterred him from riding his bike for the last couple of years because of one time getting hit by a pesticide cloud. I don't really need that.). Anyways its more about the adventure, and its not worth giving up any experiences just because I'm too proud to ride in some trucks. Other than this slight cheating my trip has been raging full force, and because of that I have learned some valuable lessons about respecting things that I cannot control.
Yesterday it was storming extremely hard at moss landing so I decided that I should take a lay over day and stay in the warm, dry comfort that was Phil's boat. Since he is a 66 year old man, and has a girlfriend that's about twenty years younger than him he left me for the day so he could go and satisfy his own manly need. (He informed me that things like having sex and surf don't get less fun as you get older, and that no matter what its never worth giving up these thing for material comforts like a fancy house and a prius.) During his absences I checked the surf, the waves looked glassy and perfect, kind of the same way that they look when you watch a surf movie. In my ignorance I thought that I could conquer the 8 foot swell of a manly wave that was supposedly for loces (local) only. Since it was about my forth time ever really surfing this was maybe not the greatest of plan that I have ever conceived, but I figured it would be a good story. I borrowed Phil's board and wetsuit and since I couldn't get a hold of him I just assumed that it was okay. ( As I've said early assumptions are dumb.) As a began to paddle out into the surf I started to realize that I was in over my head. I continued without fear though, my own hubris stopped me from paddling back to the shore and taking the what would have been insistent storm of insults from the loces! I stayed out there for about half an hour taking one of the most brutal beating of my life. I would try to drop into the wave deep and would just get absolutely dominated time after time. After a while of this I became so tired that I knew my time was up in the water and began to paddle in. As I was doing this, I got caught in a back current which was pulling me out to sea. My exhaustion won, and all of the fighting I did really got me nowhere, so I accepted the fact of being pulled and let it happened. I was sucked over to a rock jetty, and as soon as I got my bearings a wave crushed down on me and slammed me and Phil's board into the rock. I came out unscathed as I normally do, and when I began to inspect the board my heart sank. I realized one of the back fins was missing and there were a large number gashes that I found in the plexy glass. I felt sick to my stomach, not knowing how I going to tell someone that I met only a few days ago that; not only did I borrow his stuff without really asking, but then destroyed it in the process. I could have probably hidden he entire incident from him since he was still not there when I got back to the boat. I knew in my gut that if I did this I wouldn't only fail myself, but really loose one of my new good friend so I waited for him to return. He didn't come back until this morning (right before I was about to leave) and the entire time my guilt consumed me. I hit one of the lowest points that I have hit in a very long time. As soon as I saw him a burst out about breaking his board and would do anything to make it better. He looked at me for a second with dead seriousness in his eyes, then broke down and cracked a smile beginning to laugh. The board was that way the entire time, I just didn't realize it was messed up when I took it out, probably because I felt bad about it in the first place. He told me "There's a reason that this board was in the storage unit and not in the back of the truck." And then gently reminded me that a ten foot swell is really not the best place to be unless you actually know what you are doing. Which I kind of proved to myself i didn't. It taught me a valuable lesson that hopefully I won't soon forget. I've felt sorry about all the times I've done shit like that to people, kind of, but this was the first time that I felt really deep remorse about it.
The other very valuable lesson that I have learned is that it is illegal and extremely dangerous to ride on the freeway. On my way into Santa Cruz this morning I thought it would be a good idea to take the 1 instead of the detour route which was suggested by the rode signs. As I got further and further into the city I started to understand that the detour was probably a better bet. People where not very happy with me. Cars going 65 miles an hour where buzzing me over and over again (prius drivers are the worst. Since they "save the environment" they think it give them the right to be total dickheads to bike riders, as they buzz me they honk to make sure that I swerve a little so that when they hit and kill me the police report can claim its my fault.) I was told many times to "get off the road you crazy mother fucker" but I had nowhere to go. It all came to an end when a cop car started tailing me and informed me the illegality of what I was doing. He then escorted me to the next exit, making 100% sure i was off the freeway. I think it maybe the first time a cop has ever looked out for my best interest. I made it to Santa Cruz so it was worth riding on, but I will try and not do it again. I have had a wild last couple of days and am learning some value out of all of the stupid things that I do. It's a strange contradiction because I'm looking for stories and adventure but those stories are really, not normally that funny when they happen. Traveling is a strange terrific way to live.
Tim
p.s. Fuck Prius drivers... and the Prius for that matter... and Californian Soccer moms.
p.s.s. Multi Surface touring (mountain biking the Santa Cruz hills) is a blast.