AND I DID IT!!!

Today is May 3rd, 2013 and it's over!

      It's been a couple of roller coaster days of excitement, happiness and a sense of disbelief that it's over. Today Friday, at the final hotel in St. Augustine, I still had to get up early to get my bike downstairs before 8 a.m. to the Van where 16 bikes were strapped to the top. Ricardo goes on at the front - he's the best - and the rest sit on top Those staying for a day or two in St. Augustine noisily waved to those in the van going straight to the airport with the bicycles which will be packed up in Jacksonville FL and sent home to their various destinations. Then we were all on our own, for the first time in two months.
      I refused to eat another free hotel breakfast. So Katrina, Wendy, Flo and I went to the excellent French restaurant around the corner and had a superb breakfast that tasted like real food and real coffee and sat and exchanged stories and photos while my daughter listened politely. Yes, we have to keep talking to each other - because no-one else will understand.
     Yesterday, our ride into St. Augustine on May 2nd, began as dawn was breaking in light drizzle and gray skies in Palatka. We set off by 7 a.m. for the 40 miles to the fire station. I ended up riding with SuperStar Ann who encouraged me to keep going at a great pace. We all reached the 20 mile Sag stop in good time, and she and I sped off along the beautiful tree-lined road beside the St. Johns River, where lovely old houses stood and tall old trees were hung with gray Spanish moss and the first white creamy blossoms of the magnolia trees were just opening and the lawns were so green and smooth they were almost unreal. It's the rain - which continued to drizzle as we rode along the wet surfaces.
       Ann and I sped along the final 11 miles to the fire station ahead of everyone else. There was only a little traffic and I was surprised when a young woman in a van stopped to ask if we were OK after we'd had a water and pee stop. We assured her we were fine. About five minutes later we came to a big memorial alongside the road. It was a bicycle wrapped up so it looked brand new, and a big sign announcing the death of a young man who'd been killed by a hit and run driver and asking anyone who knew him to send information.  It was a sobering moment - because riding a bicycle alongside the traffic means your life is up for grabs from any idiot drunken careless driver - and they're out on the road. We were both quietly thankful we'd survived.
      As we rode along, the skies suddenly opened and it poured - I mean deluged - down on us. We were so wet by this time that it didn't matter any more. Water, not sweat, was dripping down my face from my helmet. I had taken my raincoat off way back because it was too hot so my clothes were soggy and wet. At least it was warm out so the rain only felt cool. It poured with rain from then on, sometimes lighter, sometimes heavier, but always wet.
      We rode on and came to a traffic light. And there on the right was the fire station. We were the first ones in - 40 miles in an hour and a half - which was great for me. 
     THE PARADE TO THE PARK
     We all had to gather at the fire station and wait for our police escort. Everyone arrived in great excitement and two large police cars pulled up with two cheerful young policemen who'd done this before and thought it was a lot of fun.  We lined up in twos on our bicycles on the road. Then with the police siren blaring, we rode six miles into Downtown St. Augustine, and across the Lions Bridge which is a drawbridge and not as steep as the other one, and along through town over to the Anastasia State Park. Usually there are people on the beach, cars in the parking lot, other people walking and biking around - but since this was a predicted Big Rain Storm, no-one was out but us, and a nice guy from MainCoastNews to film us.
       We rode through the park and our dedicated friends and family- including my wonderful daughter Katrina who had flown in the night before from Portland Oregon (where it was sunny and 75 degrees) - stood waving and cheering and taking photographs of us all streaming in. Then we had to walk across the sands to the ocean - it was low tide of course - and she carried my trusty bike and I put Ricardo's wheels in the sand and a wave washed over his wheels and my shoes and the Atlantic Ocean kissed us both. WE MADE IT!
       Not everyone braved the sand and the ocean but we stood in a line as we had done two months ago on that beach in San Diego, California and cheered. It was still pouring with rain but once you're really wet, it doesn't matter. Then we went into the pavilion where picnic tables were set up and box lunches for us all, which we ate talking and laughing and dripping and eating. It was an amazing celebration of our bicycling success.
      The nice news guy interviewed me, took lots of pictures of everyone, and it was on the local newscast for a total of 35 seconds. I'll try and post the link so you can see us all at the end. Then about four stalwart bikers got on their bicycles to ride to the hotel but the rest of us packed our bikes into available cars and drove to the Best Western Spanish Quarter downtown to dry off.
      It was wonderful!
      FINAL BANQUET
         The Banquet in the evening at Le Pavilion restaurant began with a champagne toast, several impromptu speeches, at least a thousand photographs, and the decibel level in the room was off the meter and exhilarating. The food was superb too - and it was a lovely way to bring our long adventure to a celebratory conclusion. Carol summed up the riding for us all and Linda said how much we had all grown and met our challenges - and it was a moment that I will always remember and keep with me for a long time.
       We walked back in the rain - the weather forecast says rain rain rain for the next few days and about seven inches fell last night and the wind is blowing and streets are flooded. But it didn't seem  to matter at all in the exhilaration and excitement and achievement and delight and friendship we all felt as a group of women who had ridden our bicycles some 3,000 miles across America - and survived to tell the tale.