Sunday, July 25, 2010

Monterey Bay

We woke up on Sunday after a pretty great night of camp-sleep. We were absolutely exhausted after the previous day's ride (and the bottle of wine we put back between the two of us), so the half-inch of foam that we were sleeping on was about a half-inch more than we needed.

On the "agenda" for the day was a visit to Monterey Bay's world-class aquarium. It lived up to every bit of its reputation, and then some. The building that it's housed in used to be the famous Portola sardine cannery, and the brick interior and industrial feel were left essentially untouched. Looking back, I'm kind of bummed that I didn't take any photos of the lobby, but it really showcases the aestetic. But that's ok, it'll just give you an excuse to see it yourself!

We started the day by strolling through the giant mammal tanks, and saw some seals, sea otters, and other large sea animals. It was pretty incredible, but the real attraction was the walk-through tanks of small fish. The aquarium has all kinds of aquatic life on display, and their real artistry comes in creating true-to-life exhibits.


Believe me, it was even more hypnotizing live. After a long day of walking through the aquarium, Aimee and I both fell asleep on a bench near this tank (for almost an hour)!

The aquarium co-habitates several different types of (friendly) species in each tank, which has the dual effect of creating a more captivating exhibits, and also providing a more realistic environment for the animals. In fact, I think that this is what makes Monterey Bay the only aquarium that I've really enjoyed. Anyone who has visited SeaWorld knows that dolphins kept in solitary confinement don't have the same spark as those in the wild. Conversely, the Monterey Bay Aquarium is clearly concerned about the well-being of their animals. It is much more than just an animal display center.

The aquarium is one of the world's leaders in ocean conservation research, and essentially created the movement. Its Seafood Watch program creates the eat/avoid rankings that make their way into newspaper and magazine stories about which fish are good to eat at any given time. For instance, us Southwesterners can safely (for us and for the ocean) eat US farmed Tilapia, but we should avoid its Asian farmed cousin. You can find an easy-to-use list for your region of the country here. If you have a phone that is smarter than the average toaster oven (mine need not apply) you can download a seafood app at that website, too.

But despite its amazing conservation programs, the aquarium's best feature is just being a cool place to visit! Where else can you find a sea dragon?


Don't see it?  Take a closer look.


Pretty jaw-dropping, aren't they?! They look like real life cartoons.

After thoroughly enjoying the aquarium, Aimee and I headed back to the campsite. And before I get too far along with the stories, I should probably show you where we lived for three days last month.



You probably noticed all of the other bikes in the background. We were hardly the only cyclists there, and this was no coincidence. California has a very well developed network of "hiker-biker" campsites that charge a scant $5-6 for the night. There are no reservations needed, and they never fill up. It was a lifesaver throughout the trip, since the central coast campsites that we were staying at fill up months in advance. If there wasn't a dedicated space reserved for bikers, we would have been sleeping on the street.

Anyway, these hiker-biker sites really brought out an interesting crowd. Aimee described them perfectly as the "hostels of camping". There was an eclectic mix of semi-homeless adventurers, professors on sabbatical, trustafarians living off of the land (and a thousand dollars of dad's money per month), weekend warriors, and college kids on vacation. It was a lot of fun to meet all of them. The first two people that we met at the campsite were Richard and Moses. Richard was from Munich, and Moses was from the Holy Land Seattle. They had met up on the trail a few days ago, after realizing that they had planned an identical Vancouver-to-Tijuana bike trip. (Surprisingly, that itinerary wasn't too uncommon.) We swapped stories of how our rides were going, and we talked about the real lives that we all had put on hold. It came out that Moses was having some bike problems, so before he took off, I put my years of bike shop experience to use. That's right; I, Myles Joseph Stone, fixed Moses' derailleur. Eat your heart out, Pharaoh.

-M