Leah Garratt's pancakes fill her house with a warm, loving smell. Here, it is so easy to repose and rest in the memories of kindness which has so frequently been shown us on our trip. The bikes slow down travel; every hour in a car stretches into a day on the bike. This deceleration of time allows us to return to a pace of life that seems more appropriate for our happiness. I am sitting in a precious gem of a house in Mendocino, just feeling grateful for these experiences and for the love that grace has given us. The first thing I receive from Leah was a kiss and a hug, and that simple greeting was ohhh so appreciated. Leah and Mike are the nicest people, and have been exceptional hosts for our band of cyclists. We shared all of our stories with them last night at dinner--fellow cyclists, tough climbs, wicked descents, and crazy, self-proclaimed messiahs that we encounter along the coast.

For the last week, we've been riding with a 50-60 year old man named John, affectionately nicknamed "Mustachio". He is tall and thin, his wiry frame topped by regally grayed hair, which is mysteriously well-kept for a man who has been living on a bicycle for two weeks. His shining, dark eyes seem to laugh at you, as if remembering a time when he too was as inexperienced as we. Above his lip, a silver mustache of the same epic quality as Yosemite Sam's bestows authority and charm upon him. John has been a good camp companion and a source of knowledge about the coastal route.

Lukas fell for a second time yesterday. This time, he was run off the narrow shoulder into a ditch by a procession of logging trucks. His front tire was demolished by the debris in the ditch, and he fell into the road, scraping his shoulder and hip. Luckily, he has nine lives, and his Raleigh bike is made of steel. We all ditched our bikes and ran back up to Lukas. Then John, riding behind us, stopped and handily changed the wrecked tire without any tools. Camilo was in awe. The next morning, John poured me a cup of coffee ("so strong that your spoon could stand up in it") and asked me with a wry smile, "How's roadkill doing?" I hope we continue seeing John down the coast, in safer situations of course.

I want to give a big thank you to Roseanne Anderson, who has kindly given her old phone to me. I'll now be able to take photos and blog from the road again. What I have missed most about having a phone is being in close contact with family. Thank you for your generosity, Roseanne!

The sky is blue in Mendocino! Time to go walk along the bluffs and enjoy the view. Next to me is a cloth banner with the following words, which I would like to share:

In the end what matters most is
How well did you live
How well did you love
How well did you learn to let go.