Editor’s Note: Guy Tal, graduate in Engineering, is a guest columnist to the Daily Illini. This is the sixth in a series that details his experiences during a bike expedition down the coast of California with Kamilla Gray Kinard, Ryne Leuzinger and Nora Tien.

Day 5: A Bottle of White, a Bottle of Red

“Elephant seals are part flatulent sandbags, part inchworms,” Kamilla philosophizes.

Presently we’re watching a pack of them honk and hoot. One slithers and hops toward the water. Another asserts his dominance towards his gregarious neighbors. Another, a pup, feeds off his mum as she tries to communicate that she’s tapped out by flopping away.

It’s been another beautiful day, skies clear and blue, a mirror of the ocean. The sharp and toothy geography of Big Sur has given way to rolling hills and wide expanses.

Earlier, I found sunglasses for Nora on the side of the road. For those who’ve never shopped there, the side of the road is full of unusual accessories for the observant customer. I also found several pairs of underwear, but no takers.

We continue to bike, and the miles pass over and under and through us like a breeze. We’re in a groove.

We bike past Hearst Castle, a palace built 100 years ago by a newspaper tycoon. The man had a pile of money as high as a redwood and he chose to build his home in seclusion, in the lonely, beautiful, rolling hills of Southern California. There’s a moral there somewhere.

We bike on.

We arrive at camp and again hike out to the ocean to watch the sunset. We hop from rock to rock on the shore, watching ducks get pummeled by waves for the joy of it. Ryne finds a piece of natural jade.

We walk back to camp and partake in our nightly ritual of fire. I get it started and we crowd around it, talking into the night, sharing food and tales.

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’ve secretly purchased two small bottles of wine, red and white, for the occasion.

Bottoms up all around as the fire, friends and moonlight bring in our new year.

[email protected]