After a week of visiting the Disney parks, courtesy of our niece’s family, all of whom work there in procurement, product design, or restaurateuring, and putting our bike together, we started our tour at last. In midweek, we did make a 25-km test run with the bike, sans trailer, to pick up some supplies. Within about 5 km, we nearly ended our tour before it started, discovering that Florida drivers don’t honor walk signals: we were in the process of pushing off in the pedestrian crosswalk when a white van cut in front of us at high speed. In the ensuing collision-avoidance maneuver, we ended up in a gear-up stop, crashing over to the right. Judy managed to brace herself and escaped unscathed (unlike the last time, that resulted in a concussion), but I caught my heel under the frame. It is still bandaged, but doesn’t interfere with riding.

As a result of our close encounter, we decided to be pedestrians when crossing streets, for better view of traffic. And, we could also separate so at least one of us might survive the crossing. So, when we did start out on our journey, getting out of the city was a slow ordeal of dismounting and walking the heavy (nearly 100kg) rig across intersections. We, of course, rode on the sometimes uneven and narrow sidewalks because the 4-lane high-speed roads had no shoulders and high curbs.

We also discovered that we had chosen a path that traversed what amounts to the central Florida mountain range, a series of low but sometimes steep hills that rise nearly 60 meters above sea level. We looked forward in anticipation to the Apopka Loop Trail, a hiking and biking trail that extends 15 km along the north shore of Lake Apopka. However, once on the trail, we discovered it was:

1) Rough, partially-solidified crushed limestone or packed gravel that kept us in the lowest gear for the entire 15 km.

2) Infested with large alligators, one of which was actually on the side of the trail but fled when we approached. We saw many, and heard the grunting mating calls of dozens more along the trail.

3) Nearly without shade, in the oppressive 30C heat and humidity.

So it went. When we finally emerged on a spur road, with 10 km yet to go, we called our Warm Showers host, Mike, to update him on our late arrival. He graciously offered to come pick up our 50 kg trailer to lighten our load. We pressed on, but slower and slower. Soon, the sun set and it began to rain. We were pushing the bike through sand around a bend in the road when a kind couple in a pickup truck stopped and offered to deliver us the last 4 km, which we gratefully accepted, guiding them to our host’s home with Judy’s cell phone, since our GPS batter had run down just before it started to rain, having lead us for the past 12 hours. So, we finished the first day with a GPS track of 67 km, but only rode 63 km., actually the longest distance we have ridden in a day in nearly 3 years.

Mike and Lucia, our hosts, offered to keep us for a second night, to wait out the thunderstorms that lasted until noon on Saturday. As it continued to rain off and on, we did venture out with them for a tour of the delightful town of Mt. Dora, named for the prominant hill above the town center, a hill we traversed three times before we finally headed to our next waypoint on Sunday morning. Sunday traffic was busy along SR 44 to Deland, but there was a new Publix market about halfway, to serve the growing golf community in that area. We also found a small drive-up restaurant in the village of Pine Ridge.

Again, the heat wore us down, and we stopped at every piece of shade along the road until we crossed the St. John River. We stopped at the park beside the bridge for a while, chatting with locals about our trip, before pressing on the last 5 km or so to our Warm Showers host, Dave, who was waiting for us with ice water and the very welcome warm shower. We slept that night in his motor home, after visiting with him and his wife Paula, also a quilter and a nurse, and their two teen-age sons, Jeremy and Josh, along with their three cats and large German Shepherd.

In the morning, Dave fed us enormous quantities of scrambled eggs, and he and I made a run to the local bike shop for needed supplies before we set out, with recommended directions, toward Ormond Beach. On the way, we stopped at a UPS Store and shipped 4 kg of extra clothing home, at exorbitant expense, but items we wanted to keep and were fairly new. Finally, we got most of our gear inside the trailer instead of stacked on top under the cargo net. The route out of town, on SR 11, was beautiful, with a wide shoulder. There was a lakeside park not far from SR 40, where we stopped for a rest and a snack.  We were already tired from the heat and struggling to push on,  having skipped our morning coffee.  A motorcyclist, Bob, and his wife stopped to chat and offered us a cold Diet Coke, which took care of the caffeine deficiency, and we continued on, though stopping frequently along busy SR 40 where tall trees provided a bit of shade.  The small settlement of Pine Ridge offered a take-out restaurant for lunch and conversation with locals before struggling on toward Ormand Beach, with many stops to rest from the heat.  Finally, we spotted a 7-11 convenience store ahead, only a short way from our destination, but a needed stop for juice and nuts to bolster us to handle the city traffic to get to our hotel, across the Interstate.  Dinner at Denny’s next door and a trip to Publix across the street prepared us for a quiet evening.

The next morning, we had the usual motel breakfast of yogurt and cold cereal, then stopped at Panera’s for coffee.  Judy had to instruct the barista on how to make an Americano (equal parts espresso and hot water).  Apparently they only ever serve lattes and other blended drinks.  The coffee delay got us started late, pushed a bit later by the disappearance of the bike lane in the older part of the city, putting us back on the sidewalk until the high bridge over the Halifax River, which we pushed up, in the bike lane, but stopping to chat with pedestrians over the walkway barrier.

Finally, a high-speed dive down the other side of the bridge and a one last walk across the light for a left turn onto John Anderson Drive, which followed the river past expensive waterfront homes for nearly 15 km.  Arriving at the High Bridge Road, we stopped at the boat ramp bait shop for a Gatorade and chat with a ‘bent trike-rider before pedaling over the dunes to finally reach the Atlantic Ocean.  The ride along the river was relatively free of wind, but now the full force of the relentless coastal wind made us struggle again the last few kilometers. We stopped for lunch at a beach-side restaurant that served only meat-based meals.  Protein-starved, I ordered a turkey sandwich and ate half, saving the other half for both of us to share for dinner.  Finally we arrived at our beach-front motel, a small, 10-unit mom-‘n-pop establishment, with peeling paint, torn screens, holes in the doors, and broken fixtures, but clean, with a comfortable bed and the surf across the road.

In the morning, we started out as the sun rose over the ocean, to find the wind had shifted to just off our right shoulders.  A short way up the beach we found a great breakfast café, then were off again with the wind for the first time on our tour.  We made it all the way to St. Augustine Beach by lunch time, stopping at the Wildflower Cafe, then on to St. Augustine, with a brief detour to the lighthouse, then passing the slow auto traffic between the parked cars and the traffic flow, until we reached the Bridge of the Lions, where we dismounted and walked the bike over the narrow pedestrian walkway, creating a small traffic jam of our own when meeting baby strollers and other bicycles.  Once over the bridge, we joined the flow on A1A, mindful that “Share the Road” means sprinting to keep moving in front of large trucks too big to pass in the two-way flow, and pulling over in no-parking zones.  And, so we survived the first week of bike travel, logging 259km (160 miles), not counting the 25km test run (or discounting the 4km sag lift).

Fortunately, our motel was close to downtown, so our day off was an easy walk to all the major tourist attractions, which we ignored, 1820enjoying the architecture and the Castillo before grabbing a light lunch at the Spanish Bakery (salad and turnovers).  For a change, we had dinner out, at the City Bistro and Coffee Shop across the street where we had breakfast.  It turned out that Thursday night was live music night at the Bistro, with Joe Mark, a singer-songwriter who also remembered the ’60s.  Then, back to the motel to pack for an early start to another week “on the road.”