If the first shakedown was about testing our equipment and some basic logistics (Can the five of us carry everything we need for six weeks on bikes?), the second was about testing our mental resolve. (Will Maria wish she’d married someone more interested in luxury travel than self-supported bike touring?)

We returned to our original shakedown plan, leaving right from our driveway to campgrounds near our home. By now, we already knew what to pack and how to pack it, so this part was a breeze.

This was the plan for our 3-day Memorial Weekend:

Day 1: Home to Memorial Park (in Loma Mar CA), 21.6 miles

Day 2: Memorial Park to Half Moon Bay State Beach, 29.3 miles

Day 3: Half Moon Bay State Beach to Home 19.1 miles (Chris only)

Chris would get the van, drive back to Half Moon Bay, and pick us up.

Here’s what we didn’t fully realize: how much climbing would be involved. I mean, we understood there would be elevation changes, but knowing the numbers isn’t the same as feeling the numbers, especially on bikes loaded with panniers loaded with clothes and camping equipment. Here’s the climbing we did:

Day 1: 1476 ft

Day 2: 1424 ft

Day 3: (Chris only) 2211 ft

In addition to being under-prepared for climbing on the tandem, I went into the shakedown having to confront what may be my two biggest fears about our big trip: 1) sharing the road with traffic and 2) whether a herniated disc in my lower back (one that had me bed-ridden for weeks a year ago) will become a problem.

Our route had us taking a stretch of Highway 1, one of the most beautiful and scary roads in the country. We live in an area that both cyclists and motorists love for the roads and, unfortunately, are reminded on a regular basis that when the two collide, the cyclists will always lose. This fear I have of sharing the road with cars is one of the reasons I wanted to do our tour in European countries known for bike-friendliness.

The other scare we had for this shakedown was that my back injury, which had been feeling fine for months, started acting up, which means it was inflamed and causing pain through the lower left side of my body. I’ve learned through trial-and-error over the past year that movement is better for it than rest, but certain movement is better than others. Would cycling and camping make it worse? Just in case, I strapped my yoga mat onto a bike.

Our first stop, 6 miles in, was to the famous Alice’s Restaurant. Even though it’s right by our house and we’ve been there a million times, it was a whole new thing to be on our bikes. As soon as we parked them out front, people came up to talk to us: Who were we? What were we doing? Where were we going? It was the first of many times during the weekend that I realized doing old things in a new way offered a bright perspective.

After lunch we went onto Memorial Park and faced the hardest climb of the weekend, on a quiet, beautiful road with few cars. After checking into the Visitor Center for a hike-in site in the back country, we faced the most surprising and fun part of the adventure: a stream we had to cross to get to the campsites.

Pros: pretty, quiet, big campsites nestled among the redwoods. Cons: millions of mosquitoes the size of moths. Chris rode 2.5 miles back to the camp store for bug spray.

The next morning, we took off for Half Moon Bay State Beach, by way of Pescadero, a tiny town we love for the restaurant Duarte’s, known up and down the coast for their local seafood and produce, artichoke soup, and Olallieberry Pie. We spent many of the miles heading there (on another beautiful and quiet road) talking about what we were going to eat.

Alas, when we got to Pescardero, we were surprised to see cars lined up and down its streets and flags hoisted at the one stoplight in town. They were celebrating a local holiday and people crowded onto the sidewalks. When we got to Duarte’s, the hostess told us to check back in an hour to then get a wait time. The artichoke soup was not happening.

I noticed how the ups and downs during the days felt more extreme than ups and downs normally feel. When we saw beauty or felt elation or relief, it was amazing.  When we got irritated or realized we had another climb when we were just starting to recover, it was maddening. Chris kept reminding us: there are going to be highs and lows. We just have to ride them out. (No pun intended?)

My lowest lows occurred on Highway 1. Even though almost every car that passed slowed down and gave us room, I still wondered if the next would be the one that wasn’t paying attention. Even though statistics say a person is more likely to die in a car crash than on a bike (which never occurs to us even though we do it every day, because everyone else is doing it every day…) I wondered if we were being wildly risky, if every person passing us was shaking their heads at our irresponsibility.

As much as I believe that I can’t let what other people think dictate the way I live, I still have my insecure moments. Chris and I made sure we were all tucked into a straight, tight line and the boys were better at climbing than me, but I was so relieved when we made it to Half Moon Bay.

The night before had been warm but full of mosquitoes. The next night was bug-free, but cool and windy, right next to the beach. There were three other sets of cyclists doing what we were doing and the kids made friends with our neighbors, two couples who had ridden from San Francisco and realized they hadn’t had s’mores in almost ten years as the kids made some for them. We gathered around a shared fire pit, had a little wine, and went to bed without carefully storing our food. We realized this the next morning, when it was evident that raccoons had taken our trail mix and breakfast.

Here’s the crazy thing about Day 3: even though the day before had me exhausted from climbing, scared of traffic, and thinking, at one point, I just can’t do this, I woke up the next morning thinking, My God, I could get on my bike again and ride some more. 

The kids and I didn’t need to ride more, as we packed up camp while Chris climbed over 2000 feet to get home, got the van, drove back down, and picked us up. The climbing we did over the weekend is more than any we’ll have to do for at least our first several weeks through Sweden, Denmark, and Germany, so I feel good knowing if we can do Northern California, we can do almost anything.

Another Very Good Sign: I woke up Day 3 with my back feeling better than it did the day we left. I’d conquered my two biggest fears and we all returned home feeling altogether less worn-out than we had after our first shakedown. We made note of the few very-last things to get and stopped for celebratory ice cream on our way out of town.

Because this: riding makes you hungry.