Our diner breakfast reestablished a key element of any good bike trip. On Route 1, we traced the edges of the ocean, climbing 100-350 foot hills, then dropping back to the level of the surf. A school group dressed in yellow was among those seeking the shore’s treasures. The farms in the higher lands featured brussel sprouts and pumpkins; eucalyptus groves gave a sweet, sharp smell to the air. In Santa Cruz, sea lions barked, played, and slept under the pier. We camped at Bob's RV Park.
 
 
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