The Stoker Blew a Tire

In preparation for the trip we accumulated spare parts and tools to fix Leonardo if we have a breakdown. We have several tubes, a spare tire, CO2 cartridges and a pump, all necessary to get us back on the road if we get a flat. So far, so good. No flats. We bought the best tires possible and at the end of each day we check the tread and remove any shards of glass that might have become embedded. Jana has been very adept at avoiding glass in the road and I walk ahead when we are off the bike to locate and remove any lurking booby traps.

Much to my chagrin, it was the stoker that had the first blow out. Tuesday and Wednesday this week we logged the highest mileage of any day since we began the trip, 58 and 70 miles respectively. By Wednesday night my quadricep muscles were so tight that it was difficult to walk. I woke up Thursday morning with a throbbing pain that radiated down my right leg from my hip to my toes. Not willing to admit that I overdid it, I hoped that rest and walking would get me back in shape so we could continue on Friday as planned. No way, Jose. After a mainly sleepless night, it was obvious that medical attention would be required.

Interestingly during my long distance running days, it was my quads that were loose and hamstrings that gave me the most trouble. I was never diligent about stretching extensively, and pushed myself into mileage that was unsustainable. Eventually I had to give up racing the longer distances due to repeated hamstring injury. Am I going to repeat that mistake and turn this voyage into a trip filled with searing pain and misery? Will the journey come to a premature conclusion?

Enter Dr. Arnold, a local chiropractor. Unlike Leonardo who has spare parts, I do not. I have only the back and hips that I was born with. Dr. Arnold diagnosed the same problem I had when I was running, a tight right side hip flexor. He gave me an adjustment (oh, did that feel good!), and a new stretch to prevent a re-occurrence. He did not need to give me any additional advice. I will have to be more aware of the limitations of my body and, take more time to stretch after each riding day. Thank you, Dr. Arnold.

Of course the captain has wanted to stop more frequently to see the sites, and the stoker has wanted to add miles to reach "the next destination". The stoker's blown tire has been refilled with air, but the shard of glass is still embedded. Only increased diligence and better habits will prevent another flat.

Thoughts On The Road

A friend asked me what I think about during the many hours of bicycling each day. Here is a sample:

The topography of Florida's panhandle is mainly rolling hills. Rolling hills are easier to bicycle than flat land. You work hard to get up the hill, but you can coast on the downhill, and if the wind is with you, you can get half way up the next hill without pedaling hard. The scenery is repeated over and over-piney woods, cypress and red maple swamps, hardscrabble farms, horses, cattle, goats and pigs.

There are a lot of prisons in Florida and the prisoners work on the roadways. I wonder if road work is considered a punishment or a privilege.

Harley motorcycles are mainly status symbols. We have gone days without seeing any on the panhandle. Come to think of it, we haven't seen any Mercedes or Lexus automobiles either. Mostly Fords and Chevys.

Except for downtown Tallahassee there are lots more Florida Gator fans than Florida State Seminole fans on the panhandle. I know Florida State fills their football stadium for every game. Maybe their fans are shy?

Madison, Monticello, Quincy, Marianna, DeFuniak Springs are the small cities we visited on the panhandle. All are county seats, and each has an impressive county courthouse at the center of downtown. Most of the store fronts are empty now. Each has a florist, drug store, used book store, a cafe or restaurant or two. Lots of churches, and almost as many funeral homes. Surrounding the downtown area is a high end residential neighborhood. Very big old houses. The old money lives there. The Great Recession has been hard on the rest of the town.

Here's a sample of conversation between the captain and the stoker:

Captain: OK pedal. (This tells the stoker to get the bike moving.)
Stoker: Car back. (This tells the captain that there is a car coming up from behind.) Car back. And another. Truck back. Car back.
Captain: Damn, where did this wind come from? (Since we are going east to west, the wind will mainly be in our face.)
Stoker: Why are you not pedaling up this hill? (Sometimes the captain takes advantage.)
Captain: Can I go out? (Sometimes there is debris in the bike lane or shoulder and we need to go into the roadway.)
Stoker: Clear (This means yes.) or No (This means no. The stoker never says "Go" because the captain might confuse it with "No" and we will get flattened. "Clear" means go.)

Captain: I hear a hawk's call. See it there? Is that a red tailed or red shouldered hawk soaring overhead?
Stoker: It is a red tailed hawk. Look how it flashed its tail at us.

That is all.

Warm Showers II

I was amazed by the trust shown by the Warm Showers hosts and thought it could not be surpassed, until this happened:

On the road to Madison, FL, in a steady rain, two very cold and wet tandem riders were passed by a car on US 90. The car stopped by the side of the road and waited for us to catch up. Out of the car popped a statuesque woman with fiery red hair, red lipstick, red toenails. I have to admit that my first thought was, what does this woman want with us? Is she in some kind of trouble? Instead she asked, "Do you have accommodations in Madison?"

Originally from New Zealand, and after a successful career buying and selling real estate in south Florida, she relocated to Madison and purchased a church and manse two blocks from the main drag. After investing a bundle to rehab the buildings, install a professional kitchen, and 19th century furnishings, she opened a B & B, and wedding chapel with reception hall. Love birds from throughout the south flocked to her door to have their nuptials performed in the old town. When she wasn't catering weddings she also provided lodging for bicyclists riding on the Southern Tier bike route between Gainesville and Tallahassee.

Unfortunately, the economic downturn put a hold on expensive destination weddings, and fewer travelers have the inclination to wander the back roads looking for unexpected treasure. We entered the B & B through the reception hall that was packed from corner to corner with old furniture in various states of refurbishment. The tables were piled with china, glasses, silver and other vestiges of the catering business that is no more. Her three cats now call it home.

She said she assumed we were stopping in Madison due to the weather and that the hotels are out by the interstate, another six miles from the town center. She missed talking to the bicycle travelers who she said always have interesting stories. We were cold, wet, tired and never considered not saying yes. How could we say no to a hot shower, a chance to do laundry, a wonderful fish dinner with white wine, and a bedroom with rich furnishings? Beyond that, was the interesting conversation.

The next chapter of her life will include selling the property and moving back to south Florida to start a new business. Jana and I are also turning a page of our lives. Maybe our paths will cross again some day.

Warm Showers or Get a Gun

As we were planning the trip, more than a few people asked if I intended to carry a weapon; you know, pack heat, get a gun. They feared for our safety, of course, and I deeply appreciate their concern. However it also says a lot about our society.

My personal opinion is that the proliferation of weapons in the United States has led to more violence, not less. Those that feel the need to carry a weapon see threatening situations at every turn. They must mistrust strangers since their assumption is that people are bad, and mean to do them harm. Maybe I am exaggerating a little, but I do not see how we can feel a sense of community with our fellow man, and also be afraid or ready to pull the trigger. There has to be a better way.

This week Jana and I were introduced to the website warmshowers.org, a site that matches bike riders with hosts across the US. After enrolling and providing the necessary personal information (hosts also provide the same information and travelers post comments to rate their experiences) we were able to search for a host who would provide us with a bed, shower and meal. Our host in High Springs, FL told us to let ourselves in to the house since we would arrive early (the door is never locked).  This host has been part of the network for over three years, and has housed dozens of cyclists. The log book in our bedroom even included an entry on Thanksgiving 2008.

Before leaving on this trip I could never have imagined that anyone would invite a stranger into their home. These Warm Shower hosts have a view of the world that most people are good and honest. Because of this high level of trust, their life is made richer due to the people they meet and the experiences they share. In a sense the hosts and travelers have developed a strong sense of community that is founded on trust and respect. Once our journey is complete, Jana and I will become Warm Showers hosts. Beyond that, my feeling of a shared humanity will stay with me forever.

For those who still think we need to be armed, rest assured that I have a new can of pepper spray in case of mean dogs. With all the weight we need to carry, the gun was not an option.

Karma I

Life is a series of coincidences. Or is it?

For most of us, meeting our spouse is the most important of life changing events. For Jana and me, walking into a McDonald's in Monroe, LA, on the same day, at the same time, has led to a 25 year marriage. I was there because I had been on the road and had no food in the house. Jana was there because her hot water heater broke and flooded her apartment. You could say that our daughter Dana owes her life to a faulty hot water heater. But I digress. Were we fated to meet, or was it pure chance?

A few years ago Jana and I read the novel, "The Celestine Prophecy". Reading this book began the process of being more aware of events, choices and happenstances that are presented to us on a daily basis. Sometimes you just have to say "yes" to something that is seemingly incongruous just to see where it leads.

With that as background, what transpired last Wednesday defies belief. As way of introduction, one of the goals of this journey is for me to decide on a future endeavor that will make use of my talents in an atmosphere that will also be fun. Working in a wine store is one such endeavor that might fit the bill. So here is what happened.

Jana and I took the Sunshine Bus from St. Augustine Beach to St. Augustine. We walked around a little, then ate our picnic lunch on a bench outside Castillo San Marcos. After lunch Jana said that she wanted to find Claude's Chocolate Store to get "some dessert". We were searching on the street where Claude's used to be when the chef from one of the restaurants asked what we were looking for. He said that Claude's moved to King Street, and he proceeded to tell us how good the food is in his restaurant and that we should come back for dinner. We said "goodbye" and continued our walk when a young woman caught up with us and began chatting. She is a sales representative for a wine and spirits wholesaler and she suggested that we might want to participate in a wine tasting going on at a wine store down the block. I at first hesitated, but after a few minutes, Jana convinced me that it would be fun. During the tasting I met the owner of the wine store who told me that she has been trying to hire a professional sales person for her shop. Although she hopes to hire someone now, she felt that she might be able to use someone with my skills once our trip concludes.

Coincidence? Or was the wine sales representative on that street at that time to guide me to a destination or outcome? Had we not stopped to talk to the chef, we would not have met her. Had we known Claude's new address, we would not have even been on that street. This trip will afford us the time to follow these paths as they are presented to us. I wonder where they will lead?

Random Thoughts on Bike Week

Do Harley bikers ride with ear plugs? Do their arms get tired holding the gorilla handle bars? Why do some people look good in black leather... and some don't?

Why are motorcycles called "bikes". Bicycles are "bikes". Motorcycles are "cycles". Some motorcycles are tricycles... some have two wheels in front and some have two wheels in back. Are there different names for them?

Harley bikers ride in packs and they are so loud Jana and I cannot hear each other talk. BMWs and Hondas are much quieter and the bikers seem to ride alone. Isn't the whole image of a Harley that it appeals to the rebel in all of us? Now that there are so many Harleys do the other brands better represent individuality?

With temperatures in the 40s, bicycling at 10 miles per hour makes the temperature feel 10 degrees colder. How cold is it on a Harley going 60 miles per hour? Is that why they stop so often for beer?

We stopped to eat at a biker's hang out in Daytona. Two neon yellow windbreakers in a sea of black leather. We felt just a little bit out of place. However, all the bikers we spoke with were friendly and more than a little bit awed by our endeavor. It was thumbs up all around.

Trust

One of the goals of the trip is learning to handle adversity and trusting that everything will turn out OK. The morning of the second day Jana and I came to the conclusion that we are too heavy. Not us, and not Leonardo, but what we packed on Leonardo. Too much of what we are carrying is gear to handle any possible bump in the road. CO2 cartridges to fix a flat... not one or two, but six in case some of them are bad or if we have problems using them. Of course we are also carrying an air pump, so the cartridges are a bit redundant. What if we break a spoke? Before setting out, we took a lesson on replacing a spoke, and are carrying several, just in case. The problem is that the tools necessary to replace a spoke (chain whip, cassette tool, adjustable wrench) weigh about 2 pounds.

Monday morning we pulled into a bike shop in Hobe Sound and made a donation of four CO2 cartridges, spoke changing tools and other assorted stuff that reduced our load by almost 5 pounds. But what if we break a spoke? Since we will never be more than 20 miles from a bike shop, we will lock up Leonardo, remove the wheel, call a taxi and go to town. Trust that assistance will be nearby, rather than struggle with the weight preparing for a negative outcome that may not happen.

This week we have pre-booked all our overnight accommodations. We were concerned that Bike Week in Daytona Beach and this being tourist season in Florida, we might have problems finding places to stay. Beginning Friday night, we will begin trusting that we will always be able to find something... a camp ground, a motel, the floor of a fire station... and that we will not have to spend a night on a park bench or in a cell in the city jail. Stay tuned.