What goes down must go up: Hills, that is. Hopefully not breakfast.
When you see a road sign, “Passing lane ahead,” it bike-translates to “Uphill ahead.” When you see a road sign, “Right lane ends,” it bike-translates to either “Downhill ahead” (yayyyyyy) or “Just a woefully narrow road and shoulder (if shoulder at all) ahead” (booooooo).
Always order the biggest breakfast on the menu. It’ll go right down.*
*Do not chase it with both a cinnamon roll the size of your face and the local brewery’s delicious IPA. You will have some slow and uncomfortable miles ahead if you do.
Mosquito repellent is the perfume of the outdoors. Apply liberally.
When grocery shopping, always grab doubles (sometimes triples) on dessert. Otherwise, sadness will ensue.
Eat produce, fools. A) It’s delicious. B) It’s available all along this bountiful Pacific Coast route. C) Your innards will make you pay if you don’t.
Some miles will feel like butter. Others will convince you one of your brake pads is rubbing against a tire rim (it’s usually not). That’s just the way it goes. Pedal on, friend.
Should there be a ninth rule? Nine is kind of a weird number. But I should probably mention blackberries, because BLACKBERRIES. They are delicious and everywhere and free dessert and I’m gonna go get some right this second.
Ah, ten. Someone else put out ten rules or commandments or somesuch. Can’t remember who. But seems nice and round, so I think I’ll stop here. Tah-dahhhhh.