San Francisco: 283 km

And there he was, my dad, indeed with his arms wide open in the doorway. I get a big long bear hug and it immediately feels safe and familiar. My dad didn’t raise me, but he’s been there nonetheless, like a safety net in the distance, across the world, yet one I can rely on and fall into. We’ve been getting to know each other once I started asking questions about him as a kid. His name is Huib.

It's my second time visiting him, the first time in his new home. I finally get to meet his husband, Jeff. A wonderful, soft spoken, intelligent and funny man that I instantly love. Our first in San Francisco there he takes us around town on our bikes. He works in city planning and shows off all the new bike infrastructure he’s been a part of realising. We get a good feel of the city as Jeff points out historical landmarks and explains each neighbourhood to us.

The days are relaxed as can be. In Huib and Jeff’s house anything goes. If you’re home for dinner we’ll have dinner. If not we’ll see you in the morning. But dinners we do have. Something new I learn about him, is that my dad is an incredible cook. He sees cooking as making little presents for his guests. We eat like kings, both at dinner and at breakfast. Marijn and I spend our days cycling around town. We cycle to a beach just over the Golden Gate bridge, we see China town, hang around in the parks, are amazed by the fog that just seems to come and go when it pleases. When we come home it’s like little haphazard family. Huib, Jeff, Marijn, Zabe and me. They have another friend over, Zabe, who we click with too. She would make a fine Dutchmen, because she’s direct as can be and appreciate our boldness too.

San Francisco might be the only place I could live in America. It’s funky and colourful, it feels sweet for a big town, the houses are decorated, the people seem to have more time than elsewhere in America’s big cities. Everything is in cyclable distance, although the gradients of the hills are so excruciating, that I for the first time understand why people ride e-bikes. And for the one week that we’ve planned to be there, that eventually turns out to be two, it does kind of feel like we’re living here a little bit.

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It’s great getting to spend time with my dad. I’m thankful he’s taken all the time in the wold to see me too. He’s gotten older since the last time we met, I can see it in how he moves. But I believe he’s happy. Huib is a character, in the best sense of the word. A little different in an amazing way. Who wants to be normal anyways? He’s caring, ever so caring. He has this comfortable aura around him, a warm and welcoming glow, that makes me feel at ease and at home. He’s too sweet for the world. And I love how that combines with his look; Huib is a big dude, with a scruffy beard (sometimes painted), bald head and substantial nose ring. Even though he doesn’t always speak, he looks, picks up and notices. He’s very observant, and behind that look somewhat mysterious. As the days progress, I can see similarities between us that I’ve not seen before. The others in the house pick up on it too. The way we move, the way we look around, the way we sit and talk sometimes too. The skateboard I made for him when we saw each other for the first time still hangs above his door. I’d already forgotten about it, but I remember it now. It makes me feel like he’s not only my dad, but I’m also his son.  

Marijn and I see a baseball game, the San Francisco Giants. It’s horribly boring, and we lose without even standing a chance. As we walk out of the stadium, we meet a girl. Her name is Jenny and she has a boat, laying in the marina just to the right of us. Jenny from the dock. Before we know it, we’re having drinks on her boat and another friend comes to join us. We skinny dip, in the filthy city water, end up singing Cher in a karaoke bar in the Marina District. An unexpected beautiful night. I’ll see her a couple more times over the next week. The days keep on getting better. Saturday and we spend at a semi-illegal rave in the Presidio Park, overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. The vibe is perfect and soon enough we’re friends with everybody. That night we visit a drag show with Huib, Jeff and Zabe. It’s great fun! We decide on a last drink in the famous Twin Peaks bar, in the Castro district.

After a beer or two we walk out of the bar and my bike is simply not there. I’m not even the first one to notice. “You parked your bike right there, right?”, Huib asks. It’s just not there, it’s not around the corner, it’s not across the street. FUCK! Marijn and I go into solving mode straight away. When we were in Paris for the Tour de France, that’s how we got Marijns stolen phone back. My bike can’t be far, we’ve only been in the bar for an hour. Marijn takes his bike around the neighbourhood, while I walk down Market Street, both looking for somebody hauling my beautiful red Trek. But it’s gone. I walk and walk, checking side streets, scanning the homeless communities. It’s the middle of the night, I’m half drunk and walk for hours, my hope diminishing with every turn I take. Huib texts me to get home. “We’ll figure something out.”

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I’m down for the next couple of days. I’m not sure what to do. Huib and Jeff offer to buy me a new one. I refuse. They’ve done enough. I start going to bike shops and finding out what’s available. I won’t get my hands on another Trek 520 until next year. Everything is expensive, most bikes have a wait time of months. I check out second hand websites. I start contacting a couple of friends in the bike industry. Since I have no idea how long this is going to take, and I don’t really want to rush and regret my decisions, Marijn sets off for San Diego. He has a couple of friends he wants to meet from his time when he was living there. We agree to catch up with each other there, he’s planning to stay a litte while.

Then somebody suggest doing a crowdfunding campaign. I’m a little hesitant asking people for money. But hey, let’s give it a try. I make my little campaign and share the link on Instagram. Then I go to bed.

When I wake up the crowdfunding has reached over 50 percent of it’s goal. I’m flabbergasted! I see my friends donating, people I’ve met during the trip, people from Warm Showers, people from hostels, from campings and the road. People I’ve never met, friends of friends. Wow! This feels incredible. This might actually work! During the next two days I post some more and before I know it, we reach the goal of the campaign, and even go over it. I tell people that we’ve made it and any subsequent donations will be used to buy beer with. And still donations keep coming.

It's a rollercoaster. I’ve been feeling depressed about losing my bike, now I feel on top of the world. I feel supported, seen, cared for. It’s overwhelming, I feel like I’ve been lifted up and now I’m floating. I’m so incredibly thankful. And it’s because of you. You, who follow me online, read this very blog. Thank you. No seriously, thank you. You have not only given me a way to continue this journey, you have given me a feeling of support, a feeling that is hard to put into words. You have once again proved to me that the world is a great place, and it’s because of the people within it. You have given me wind in the back for the rest of my journey. It means a lot, a serious lot.

Thank you: Wouter, Olmo, Paul, Nienke, Thomas, Marleen, Celine, Joey, Jeffrey, Joep, Emile, Joris, Mariska, Marleen, Barend, Elen,a Stef, Melanie, Marijn, Wouter, Diego, Sébastien, Ruud, Cyd, Resetartg, Jeff, Iris, Seb, Tim, Hidde, Mark, Kasper, Wander, Kamala, Mayra, Toni, Ragna, Jeroen, Renato, Andrew, Thomas, Jasmine, Alex, Niels, Lucas, Merijn, Bastiën, Ruben, Joah, Gijs, Chiara, Jan, The Swanson’s, Martine, Onna, Yiannos, Niamh, Doris, Noelle, Rupa, Michiel, Huib, Mick, Ross, Mere,l Wieke, Rico, Alexandra, Désirée, Sandi, Mart, Charlotte, Marous, Chris, Raymond, Gijs, Wouter, Aumer, Angelo, Micha, Gerda, Imke, Kiri, Thomas, Marijn, Bjorn, Jennifer, Annebel, Lieske, Bítia and everybody who’s shared it online!

The new bike is perfect. It rides like a dream and looks like an angel. It’s a bit sportier than the Trek, has breaks that actually make me stop, and gearing that is just a bit smoother. It has a little less gear range, but I hope to make up for that by just getting stronger. Off to the highway one, along the coast towards LA and San Diego!