Eerie ride in the Florida Panhandle

Riding, pedaling and sweating to cover 65 miles

     Two of the faster riders ended up way ahead of the rest of us on the ride and found themselves winding along deserted farm roads in the Florida Panhandle with rundown trailer homes, piles of garbage, and miles of trees and bushes and grass around them and even saw a town sign for the community of Bagdad in the middle of nowhere which gave them pause.
     "It just felt eerie" one of them said discussing it afterwards, "as if I might just disappear and some one show up out of nowhere and kidnap me." The other added: "I didn't see anyone for miles and it looked like that movie "Deliverance" when I stopped and looked around."
      These are the joys of riding on quiet roads instead of busy highways where the trucks zip by far too close and the traffic feels like the enemy.
       For me, it began as a pleasant ride winding our way out of downtown Pensacola on side streets and quiet residential roads in neighborhoods with both black and white residents though the houses in the white areas were significantly larger than the ones in the black areas. Then we came to the farm roads. I was riding with Carla the Zingy Brazilian and we have developed a good pattern of taking the lead when we feel energetic, and following when we don't. The roads stretched for miles between the fields and the trees casting their shade on the road, between green grass and occasional barking dogs who like to chase bicycles, as if they were trained for it. My technique is to ring my bicycle bell constantly and shout "Go home! Bad dog! Bad dog!" assuming that most dogs know "Bad dog" is not a good thing to hear. It works most times, though one dog did try running after me which got me pedaling harder than I've done in a while. Nothing like adrenaline to get your speed up.
       There were some bridges to cross that went up and down, and after a metal bridge there was a distinct hill, which we haven't seen in a while, and lots of rolling roads going down and up in a nice pattern so you could get up enough speed and momentum to coast the up part. Always fun to do. It was a cloudy warm day, and a light breeze instead of the demoralizing wind we had yesterday.
       At one point we crossed a long bridge, and looking to the right, saw  a huge lake spreading out in the distance and the waves rippling on the shore. This is not what we have seen before and it reminded me that Florida, even the Panhandle, is watery not mountainy. There are also palm trees and beautiful flowers in bloom and leaves on the all the trees, and it is so green.
       At mile 27.5 we turned right at a bike shop called "Truly Spokin' " - great name - and found a real bike path, just like the ones in Boulder, which we rode for 6.5 miles. We met a woman walking a baby in a stroller, four people on recumbent bikes taking a nature tour, one man on a bike going the other way, and a woman walking a small dog. Otherwise we had the path to ourselves and I had a wave of nostalgia for the Boulder Bike Paths which I have been riding for several years and know so well, and decided I would be very happy to come back and ride them again without the traffic and the highways and the hills.
      From there we turned on to Munson Highway which wound into the deserted roads alongside trees and grass and occasional houses - but often there was nothing to look for except the hard-to=see road signs. I follow the mileage on the Cue Sheet but sometimes it's a bit off so I've learned to be creative when looking for the turns and stops.  There was not a lot to see, though it was peaceful and the occasional bird cheeped, and there were small black squirrels, much smaller than Colorado squirrels, that would dart across the road, consider committing hari-kari under our bike wheels, and then dart back as we swerved to avoid them. A few horses stood grazing here and there, and that was about it.
       We passed through small towns with names like Pace and Milligan and Holt, which would be hard to find on any map, which had auto shops and pawn shops and second hand shops and gas stations and realtors and lawyers and not much more I could see pedaling past.
       The 20-mile Sag Stops are always welcome when we check up on how we're doing and what is going on with the other riders. Carla and I decided to ride in the full 65 miles, and not stop for lunch, so we got back about 2:30 p.m., the first ones this time, while other people stopped at different restaurants for lunch and came in a bit later. I had my PBJ sandwiches and snacks and fruit and lots of water and that was fine for me.
     This evening we had chicken curry and salad dinner. As it was raining, we sat outside under the shelter of the Hampton Inn in Crestview FL and a beautiful rainbow appeared on the dark storm clouds which was a good omen for tomorrow.  It will be a 94-mile day and I shall do as much as I can but will see how hot and tired I get before we reach Marianna, FL about which I know as much as I know about Crestview.
      On the map on the trailer door, the last Florida stops have been circled and there is a sense of everything coming to an end. We go to Marianna, Quincy, Crawfordville for two days, Perry, High Spring, Palatka, and St. Augustine on May 2nd, and then it's all over. It will be hard to adjust to a new rhythm because this one is very satisfying. I get up early, have breakfast, get my luggage out and into the trailer, check my bike tires, make sure my bike is ready, make snacks for the trip, and then ride out on to the highway for a day of adventure. Then it's simply pedaling and riding and taking care on the bike until finally I come to a new town and a new hotel and a new bedroom with the light switches in different places and a new bed and dinner and a map meeting to talk about the next day's ride, and then to bed. And that's it..
      It is physically tiring and my brain is definitely turning to mush. But it is an amazingly simple way of life where someone else takes care of the food, and the schedule, and the hotels, and the vans, and the support systems that in my own life, I have to provide. We joked that when we get to St. Augustine, we will simply stay at the hotel for ever and let Linda cook dinner every night so that we don't have to cook for ourselves ever again.