Having successfully ridden our bikes to Santa Cruz on Saturday, on Sunday we were meeting up with Sue and Erik. Cortney and I staggered out of bed a little later than planned and had more trouble than you would think two well-educated adults would have in finding our inn’s breakfast room. Anyway, we settled down to the typical fare inns and motels offer, and though we thought we were quick with our coffee and hard boiled eggs, we promptly made ourselves late for our planned meet-up time with Sue and Erik.
I spent about a year living in Santa Cruz when I was getting my masters in education, so I vaguely knew how to get to Harbor Cafe. But I didn’t remember the roads well enough to recall the train tracks that go by the Boardwalk. As I tried to read the multitude of signs that wanted to tell me where bikes are and aren’t allowed, I locked my tires right into those tracks and went tumbling. Before I knew what happened, I was picking myself up off the ground and listening to a bystander’s comment, “It’s all part of the experience.” Indeed. Continue reading