Day 14 – Pedal to the Ocean

Monday, November 3rd

High Springs, FL to Flagler Bleach, FL

We made it to the ocean!!!  WE BIKED to AN OCEAN!!  Wow!

Ok, now for the full post:

So my relentlessly cheerful attitude toward the morning weather finally caught up with me.  The Powers That Be apparently grew tired of my daily talk about gorgeous dawns with leaves dancing and birds chirping and figured it was time to send in a little dreariness.

We woke a bit earlier than usual to a chilly, dismal morning.  Clouds clinging to the sky and dampness burdening the air, the sun struggled to push through with little success.  We packed up, said goodbye to the owner of the Cadillac Motel, and pedaled out onto the road.  About a block into our trip, we saw a sign for the post office!  (We began working on our postcards when we bought them, back on Day 10, and have been trying to mail them ever since.  Every post office we come to is not yet open or is already closed.)  We followed a car into the parking lot and I ran in to get stamps, but we were 30 minutes early for the postal workers and there was no automated stamp vendor, so I walked outside, shaking my head, and we rode out of town.

We spent our whole ride to Gainesville under a shroud of gray clouds and I spent the entire morning reviewing regrets and daydreaming about the mistakes of my life.  It’s amazing how effectively the weather infuses my mood. Thankfully, when we got to the outskirts of northwest Gainesville, I had an urgent bladder matter to yank my mind back to the present.  We stopped at a Chevron station in a relatively new neighborhood to use the restrooms.  We decided to grab something to eat and drink, and while we were picking out a banana one of the store clerks said in disbelief, “That woman just left without paying for her drink.”  We looked up from the banana selection to see a petite, 20-something with salon hair and sunglasses heading to her black Denali, keys and a 44 oz in one hand and her cell phone, plastered to her ear, in the other.  No one went after her, but the manager started joking about how that girl must think she’s so “SPECIAL” she doesn’t need to pay for the things she takes.

It was chuckle-worthy at first, but the manager went on about this for at least the next 2-3 minutes while we were in the store.  He couldn’t stop talking about it.  When I went to pay for our banana and drink, I asked “How much is the drink?” and he replied, “Oh, it’s just a refill and she comes in here all the time.  Next time I’m going to make her get off her precious cell phone for two minutes so I can tell her she walked out without paying for her drink last time!  She’s so SPECIAL.  Can’t stop talking long enough to pay attention to what she’s doing!”

I said, “Actually I was wondering about this drink,” and pointed to our juice bottle.

“Oh.”  The poor guy looked like he had just had a mini breakdown because of that girl.

Leaving the gas station, we had to negotiate traffic, which in this area at this time of day was over 70% SUVs, trucks, vans or minivans (Suburbia, go figure).  Almost our entire route along the north side of Gainesville had marked, labeled bike lanes.  Of course, this proved to be more dangerous and labor-intensive than riding a regular shoulder would have been.

Drivers shut off part of their brain around bike lanes for some reason.  It’s as if they imagine a wall between their lane and the bike lane – as long as they don’t cross the line, they can get as close to that wall (and your bike) as they like, going as fast as they want.  In their mind, they set you in the bike lane and never expect that you would have to leave that lane for any reason.  It’s the “Bike Lane”; why would your bike need to be anywhere else?  They don’t consider that you might need to cross their lane to make a left turn, or move into their lane to avoid the all-to-common debris that accumulates in bike lanes or even to dodge potholes or manhole covers.  When a vehicle encounters a big tree branch or a giant pothole in their lane, it’s common to change lanes to avoid the obstruction, but drivers find it unacceptable that bikes might need to do something similar.

Long rant made short, we made it to the other side of Gainesville and took 26 to Orange Heights, Melrose and Putnam Hall.  At the sign of a Post Office in Putnam Hall (pop. 127), we pulled over, parked and walked up to see that it was closed.  Their lunch hour was noon to 1pm.  Dad walked back to his bike to check the time: 12:00.  Foiled again.  But the stop wasn’t completely a waste; I met and photographed a huge cicada waiting on top of the big blue mail box outside the post office.

All saddled up, we left the post office, turned right at the town’s intersection after waving to a group of guys yelling and selling something (drinks?), and cruised down 100, heading for Palatka.  The ride down 100 was nice until we met up with the city drivers around Palatka.  While looking for a place to eat (we passed on the opportunity to have all-you-can-eat sushi and bar-b-que on the west side of Palatka), we saw another sign for a Post Office.  We followed it and happily found a 24hr post office!  I waited in line a while to buy four postcard stamps, but was glad to have it out of the way.

Outside the post office, we chatted with several different passersby who were intrigued by our rides.  We asked for lunch suggestions, but didn’t get any helpful replies so we just cruised through their downtown looking for a place to eat.  Not finding anything both appealing and convenient for the bikes, Dad suggested we cross the bridge and try our luck in East Palatka.   Just after the bridge, we passed an appetizing aroma coming from a seafood restaurant with a vacant outdoor patio.  We readily turned into the parking lot, our lunch decision finally made.

Musselwhite’s Seafood and Grill had several enticing options, but we went with the lunch special – hamburger steak, two sides and tea – and it was delicious!  Just as we were finishing our meal, two guys rode up on Harleys.  They ended up joining us on the patio and while waiting for their food, we got to talking about their bikes and ours.  Needing to get back on the road, we said goodbye and went to pack up the bikes, then right before we left, one of the guys came up and knowing our destination offered to let us stay with him and his wife at their house, which was further down our route.  Amazed and thankful, we got his information and told him we would love to take him up on the offer.

We took 100 toward Brunell and waved to the motorcyclists as they passed us 30-45 minutes later.  There was a headwind almost the whole way to Brunell and both of us were flagging.  We tried singing, but it did little to encourage us.  Our schedule had us stopping in Brunell for the night, but since the coast was only another eight miles away, we pushed on, racing the impending weather and fading light.  I crested the bridge to Flagler Beach maybe half an hour before sunset and beamed at the sight of the ocean.  Grinning ear to ear, I flew down the other side and headed straight for the coast.   When Dad caught up, I said, “We have to stop” so we parked our bikes along the path that parallels the beach and got off to look around.

All I could say was, “We biked to an OCEAN!!”   I can’t believe we rode from the middle of the country to AN OCEAN!  I never, ever, ever, ever thought I would ever do something like this!  I couldn’t help but be giddy.  We check our trip odometers and found we had rode about 1360 miles in 14 days.  One thousand, three hundred and sixty MILES in fourteen DAYS.  From thence forth, this ride to the coast shall be dubbed our Century-A-Day Ride!

I wasn’t even close to coming down from my high, but my excitement was disturbing the contemplation of a pensive, solitary teenager sitting on a bench in a hoodie, looking out over the ocean for answers, plus it was getting dark, so we biked on down the coast, pushed by a 30 mph tailwind(!), to find a motel.

The first motel we stopped at was about $70 a night and, already over our budget, we needed to look for something cheaper.  (There’s a story about a startling midget in here, but I’m not even sure it’s PC to use that term, so I’ll leave that one out.)  We bike further south and stopped at the Beach Front Motel.  There was a guy inside, on the phone, who had probably just locked up, but he opened up the office and when I saw T2 on the lobby TV, I knew we were in the right place.  The owner/manager, Chris, set us up with a room right away and at just the rate we were looking for.  He even gave us the scoop on all the good restaurants within walking distance (since we were too tired to jump back on the bikes).

After getting the bikes settled and ourselves freshened up, we strolled out into the evening gale, aiming for one restaurant, but settling for a nearer one when we realized we were too tired to walk the extra two blocks (yes, even with the wind at our backs we were too exhausted).  We had a tasty Hawaiian pizza at Manny’s and then pushed our way back to our room through an increasingly powerful Northern wind.  What a long day!!  Now that we’ve reached the coast, we’ll be taking it easy for the next week or so.  Now we’re on vacation! =)

Today’s Quick Stats:

Bike              Distance (mi)    Average Speed (mph)     Trip Odometer

MiniWini           111.42                   17.0                           1364.4

Sti(ck/g)          110.75                   16.8                              –

Stampedes: 2

Roadside Pees: 1