The last day of the tour started early as those who chose to complete the ride down the Claude Pepper Highway (route 27) prepared for what promised to be another long and busy road followed by a confusing thread through the urban milieu to the beach. The group splintered into several factions to meet schedules and different end-of-ride destinations.

As with last night’s supper, the group commandeered the well-lit camp laundry for breakfast.

By ones and twos, the remaining riders departed for Hollywood: Shaun first, then Chris and Lorrie, Sam, John and CJ, Bill and Karen, and, lastly, Jack. The rest of us broke camp at daybreak and went our separate ways, after making arrangements for pickup or checking routes.

The Bike Friday gets torn down once more and into its cases, and we head east in the car toward West Palm Beach and Highway A1A. This route is 100 miles, more than a one-day bike tour, but much more pleasant. The first 50 miles is much like the Claude Pepper Highway, but with some services in Belle Glade, then into the maze of north-south freeways and over Lake Worth to the beach. The next 50 miles along A1A was much like the first day’s ride through Miami Beach, with many high-end residences, beachfront parks, and the occasional community with restaurants and services. Through the downtown Fort Lauderdale district and past the airport, US1 was the choice for car travel, rejoining the bike route at Dania Beach.

Meanwhile, the group of riders spread out along the Florida Connector route.  CJ and John arrived at the starting point before we did in the car, having traveled only 30 miles less than we did.  Very impressive.

The rest of the riders trickled in over the next couple of hours, some having been drenched by the brief but heavy afternoon downpour. Some got confused and spent a harrowing few miles on I-75 instead of the surface streets. The group further splintered as some moved on to hotels closer to the airport for early flights; one group adjourned early to dinner at the taco stand next to the hostel, and the rest of us headed for the Turkish restaurant a few blocks north on the Boardwalk.

All agreed the maps needed more detail and some route revision, in part due to poor or ineffective signage in Florida, but we all survived, though all did not complete the entire ride. All in all, for a rough ride, there were few serious problems: a series of flats, some on the keys and some on debris-strewn route 27/80; a crash on the 7-mile bridge that resulted in some road rash and a new helmet for John; heat exhaustion that dropped the tandem team; difficult food logistics, resolved in part by gaining a support vehicle; upper respiratory issues that nearly dropped Lorrie, who persevered and completed the entire ride; strong winds that sapped rider strength on long stages, effectively ending the ride a day early for some.

There were good times, tempered by inconveniences: some of the campgrounds were unsuitable for tent camping, with only hard gravel pads, but the camping hostel and church retreat grounds were great for tenting. Pushing to arrive before the heat of the day meant waiting for check-in times at both camps and hostels. Some interesting attractions were bypassed to make the requisite mileage for the day, though the layover days offering tours of the Everglades and Key West were great.

The route would be a great two-week tour with shorter ride days and more time for exploring, which would require some rerouting. Having an ad hoc support vehicle was a big plus to carry gear on long days and go the distance for food supplies. Hard-shell storage for food was important in raccoon-infested camps.

For us personally, we found the bike trails too rough to maintain a safe speed with our two-wheel trailer and long tandem, driving ourselves and our machine to the verge of breakdown. We had trained for a fully-supported ride in cooler climate, switching due to an unavoidable cancellation, and weren’t conditioned for hot weather and harsh sun.

The Riverside Retreat, a church camp along the Okeechobee waterway west of LaBelle, was a pleasant place to camp, but it got very cold during the night. The Unix Curmudgeon and the Nice Person were comfortable finally, but the folks more acclimated to the warm weather kept piling on more clothing during the night. Breakfast was nice in the rented pavilion, especially since everyone got up in the dark to prepare for the as-yet longest day of the tour. Two options were offered: the orginal ACA route through the Okaloacoochee Slough State Forest, for 76 miles, or straight across Highway 80 for 56 miles.

The Unix Curmudgeon, restless after several days off the bike and encouraged by the cooler weather, had spent much of the previous afternoon reassembling parts of the Mean Green Machine into the Lean Green Machine–the reason for Project “Q” in the first place: when the going gets tough, James Bond’s gadgets transform into something needed for the mission. While the Nice Person got left behind to break camp and stuff the soggy tent into it’s bag and load the group cooking gear and food into the car, the Curmudgeon took the road solo shortly after sunrise. His narrative:

The ACA route follows route 78A into LaBelle, but there is a cutoff route that saves several miles, along a scenic byway. The route was easily findable by following the “Dan Henry” markers for a local bike ride. In the Pacific Northwest, bike route markers are small white circles with flags bent left, right, or diagonal: here in Florida, they are huge, in florescent red, blue, and yellow, with straight flags angled the direction of the turn. I follow the red and yellow routes, for the most part, turning where the local bike folk were setting up a check station. Most of our group pressed on at this point, into LaBelle, following the ACA map.

Past the swing bridge over the waterway, and taking a left proved scenic. The rural road was lined with spanish-moss-festooned trees and fields, where frightened cattle ran panicked from the hurtling green apparition.

Crossing route 80 onto route 80A to Route 29 saved some time, emerging on the ACA route at the Winn-Dixie. Cold water and an application of sunscreen, then south on route 29, with a slight tailwind. A few miles south, a large Circle K convenience store on the left proves to be the last services for 40 miles.

Turning east onto route 832 across the Okaloacoochee Slough brought the full force of today’s wind face-on. The wind increased to a steady 10-20 MPH blow that felt like a long uphill grind.

The State Forest road is, for the most part, just a rural road. A few spurs into the woods bordering the slough provide hiking and primitive camping.

The Kerr Lookout Tower was disappointing, as it is a State Forest fire lookout and not open to the public. There were restrooms near the ranger station, though.  Pressing on, the road turned south and then north into the wind, leaving the State Forest into cattle country and a large Monsanto complex, then sugar cane fields. The wind continued unabated.
Turning north on route 833 offered relief from the wind before turning east again on the Hunt Club road, which was sparsely residential. North on Hacienda led to a park near a school that was not marked on the map. I had arranged to meet the support car for lunch near the intersection with route 80, so pressed on. The group following me on the long but scenic route stopped there for lunch.
After several twists and turns through a residential area, the route headed straight north on Flaghole Road, with a crosswind. The electric lines overhead buzzed and crackled in the wind. An unfenced dog gave chase, but I sprinted past the driveway before it reached the road. CJ and John, about 20 minutes behind, were not so lucky, and had to sprint hard with the dog on their heels.
The wooded residential area gave way to cane fields. The standing cane buffered the crosswind some, but the highway intersection ahead was in sight long before reaching it. Amazingly, I reached route 80 about the same time the main group, that had taken the shorter direct route on 80,arrived. They went on while I stopped for lunch.

Route 80 had a fairly wide shoulder, which was a minefield of shredded steel-belted tire debris. I dodged the larger pieces nimbly with the short version of the Bike Friday Q, but Roger’s BOB and Bill’s ‘bent weren’t so lucky. Flats were the order of the day on an already long ride.
Arriving in Clewiston, I searched in vain for the street marker for the detour around the busy commercial core. Finally, I called support for a GPS fix and found I had traveled two-thirds of the way to the point the ACA route rejoined the highway.
After the short bridge out of town, I saw a sign for lake trail access “left, .4 miles.” In .4 miles, there was no left and the shoulder ran out on the busy highway, so I reversed course back to the sign (at twice the speed I was making eastward against the wind!) and turned right, through a cemetery to a chain link fence reading “authorized vehicles only.” The driver of an official-looking vehicle coming out of the complex assured me that the trail was there. Apparently bicycles are “authorized,” though it didn’t make that clear.
Inside, I found some of our group on a rest break in a picnic shelter. Typical of Florida, there were no public restrooms. I knew from our car trip before the ride that there were restrooms eight miles ahead, so I cranked up onto the levee and into the wind once more.

Lake Okeechobee is the Great Lake of Florida, a horizon-spanning body of water surrounded by slough and an open channel created by dredging up the levee that controls water distribution for the south Florida irrigation system.

At John Stretch Park, I met a couple who had camped next to us at Riverside Retreat the night before, who were amazed to see us this far. While talking with them, the rest of the main group caught up. The trail drops off the levee to detour around the dam and spillway through the park.
Back on the levee, I pushed on hard into the wind again for the last five miles, then down the boat ramp access road and into camp.

The Nice Person, meanwhile, had reconned the surrounding area for restaurants and groceries, finding most food stores were closed on Sunday and slim pickings at that. We ended up sending the support car to Subway, two miles down the 4-lane highway, to pick up 15 foot-long Subway sandwiches, all custom order. As the increasingly impatient line formed behind us, we carefully did not mention what we were doing or where we were staying. Now well after dark, we commandeered the camp laundry as kitchen and dining hall.