Even in Kyoto

Changing of flat happened at a broken down, abandoned "HIDEOUT LOUNGE" on the side of the minor highway that still had a sign lit though it looks like no one had touched it in many years. If it were in business, we could have enjoyed a cocktail while patching and changing tubes. The abandoned lounge far removed from anything else on the highway was also apparently a bus stop, as evidenced by the bus that made a bus stop there.

We released a prodigious amount of sand in the hotel room, mostly in the bathroom.

My seat was caked with a quarter inch of sand, at one point, from standing up while trudging up hills in the rain without fenders. Every semi-level surface was caked. Sand is a much larger problem in CA than I would have guessed.

The rain tastes salty near the ocean. I commented that you can tell how far away you were from the ocean by tasting the rain. Free Gatoraide!

The hotel encouraged you to go behind the front counter and use the cordless desk phone to make calls if you didn't have either Verizon or Sprint.

The hotel operator didn't want to turn around on a stormy night and go back, so R and I were checked in by phone. Small towns are strange.

If I had had my wobbly wheels trued, I wouldn't have been at the end of the reach of my brakes, and I think the sand and grit ate my brake pads (and probably rims too). I was reluctant to adjust them down tighter for fear of rubbing in a headwind but eventually did while we were being escorted into town. Ploughing into a downed tree while a cop was watching would have been really embarrassing.

We witnessed a likely-couple attempting to learn how to ride a rental tandem by taking it over the Golden Gate Bridge. They were pinned to the fence by winds as we passed. Poor ambitious bastards.