April 2: St. Augustine, FL

  
      Although we dipped our wheels in the Atlantic in Jacksonville, we hung up the helmets (temporarily!) in St. Augustine. We spent a day exploring the oldest city in America. We visited the Castillo De San Marco, an old Spanish Fort build in 1672, and watched reenactors load and fire a cannon (minus the cannonball) across the bay. We tried to imagine what life must have been like when the entire population of St. Augustine (sometimes up to 1500 people + livestock!) crammed into the Castillo, or "Castle" during times of siege.
     We walked through the historical district and saw massive poured-concrete hotels built in the late 1800's to attract the rich and famous. St. Augustine has long been a city driven by tourists.We sat alongside the Atlantic Ocean and watched sailboats pass under the Bridge of Lions. Already our adventure seems a lifetime ago... But already, I find myself thinking: Where to next?

March 31 - April 1: Jacksonville, FL

    
     My wheel troubles and the persistently stormy Florida weather caused us to re-think our round-about initial route to the Atlantic Ocean by way of Gainesville and St. Augustine. We choose, instead, to take the opportunity to visit family in Jacksonville, and decided that we would end our journey via a more direct route at Jacksonville Beach.
     Our last official day of riding was gorgeous: temperatures in the 70's, sunny blue skies and a cool breeze. We rode carefully through busy Beach Blvd. traffic. We dragged our bikes between sun-bathers, around walkers and across the loose beach sand into the Atlantic Ocean and let the waves lap the tires. Then we looked at each other: Now What?
   Fortunately, we didn't think about that question for long. We planned to meet our parents in St. Augustine, and still had a 28 mile ride down coastal highway A1A ahead of us. Our ride down A1A was pure pleasure, along richly-landscaped coastal mansions and estuarine preserves. The reality of our accomplishment slowly set in.

March 30: Uh-oh...

     Only 130 miles or so to the coast... and disaster strikes! As we biked east out of the tiny town of Lee, FL, I heard odd sounds coming from my rear wheel. Terrible rubbing noises, grinding sounds, and bumps. I hopped off my bike. Andy and I spun the rear wheel and watched it wobble in a wide arc. We took the wheel apart right there on the shoulder of Route 90 and pulled out flattened half-bearings and shards of steel (that were, at one time, also bearings). We tried putting the wheel back together using the remaining good bearings, but it continued to wobble and grind. My bike was un-ridable!
     The nearest bike shop was thirty miles North in Valdosta, GA. The good thing about Valdosta being due North was that we neither gained, nor lost, miles in our East-West journey. We'd been wanting to visit Georgia anyway. We called a mini-van cab from Valdosta, big enough to carry both of us and two fully-loaded bikes to town.
     The next morning we rode yet another mini-van cab to Valdosta's only bike shop... only to find that a new rear wheel was in order, and that new rear wheels to fit an early-1980's era bike are rather elusive things. The Valdosta Bike Center couldn't help me... but Western Auto (yes, Western AUTO) saved the day.
     Despite being called Western Auto, Western Auto sells bikes (along with lawn mowers and refrigerators). Somewhere in the dark recesses of the back room they found an old, dusty 27" x 11/4" rim. They replaced it, and (after procrastinating in the store for a couple of hours while it poured rain, thundered, and lightninged) we were back on our way. I still feel a special bond with my old wheel (after all, it carried me over 3,000 miles!), and decided to haul it with me in hopes that it can someday be rehabilitated.
  Our troubles were not quite yet over. Andy took a spill on a set of wet railroad tracks crossing the highway. He fortunately had only minor road rash, a ripped rain coat, and two squished bananas to show for it!

  

March 27 - 30: DeFuniak Springs - Monticello, FL

 

  The Florida panhandle: rolling hills, pine forests, rolling hills, pine forests, rolling hills, pine forests... paralleling freight tracks along Route 90. We crossed into the Eastern time zone at the Apalachicola River near Chattahoochee, FL - another big landmark behind us!
     Fresh fruits and vegetables are coming into season here in Florida... things like strawberries, tomatoes and peas. We have no trouble finding tasty (and healthy!) things to eat at roadside stands.
     The humidity is rising, and a grey overcast is hanging in the sky. Rain may catch us on this ride yet...

March 25: Pensacola, FL

We've officially arrived in Florida, "The Sunshine State"! True to its name, Florida was sunny today... and windy, terribly windy! We struggled against a steady headwind along the beautiful Florida Gulf Coast, hardly noticing the bleached-white sands and turquoise-blue waters...

March 24: Alabama!

Here we are in state number seven: Alabama (snacking on boiled peanuts - a fast food staple down here, given to us by a kind roadside vendor).We cycled down to Dauphin Island ("The birdiest city in Coastal America"), and camped the night at the Dauphin Island Campground. We took advantage of the opportunity to swim in the (very warm!) Gulf of Mexico - to a backdrop of off-shore oil rigs. We failed to see any Pelicans, the state bird of Louisiana, in Louisiana... but saw plenty along the Alabama Coast! We took another Ferry, this time across Mobile Bay... past off-shore natural gas platforms, seagulls, and pelicans, to Fort Morgan. Only a short ride from here to Florida!

March 23: Mississippi!

We've officially entered our sixth state: the state of Mississippi! We rode along the Gulf Coast out of New Orleans. The houses lining the coast fascinated us: they are regular houses built up on stilts! Why do you think that people living along the Gulf of Mexico might build houses that look like this?

We experienced a bit of "road magic" today: something out-of-the-ordinary that happens while traveling on a bicycle. A car pulled off the road ahead of us, a man got out... and offered us two ice-cold Coca-Colas! We toasted him from a gravel-and-crushed-up-seashell pull-off overlooking Lake Pontchartrain and the distant city of new Orleans.