Category: Adventure

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 63 – 67: Kinder, LA to Cleveland, TX

General psyche is way improved after the last post. The storm has gone, and Texas seems awesome and super-friendly, if a little unusual, so far. Let’s jump into it. Phone images to accompany.

Day 63: Just outside Kinder, LA (thunderstorm)

You know in the new Batman film, when Anne Hathaway says to Christian Bale, “There’s a storm coming, Mr Wayne?”. Well it must have made its way from Gotham City to Kinder. It was crazy rain and lightning. Took Anne’s advice and battened down the hatches.

Day 64: Kinder to Dequincy, LA (39 miles)

The morning started with a load more heavy rain, so I took shelter at the nearest sandwich shop for it to ease off a little bit. It did eventually, and in between the storm bursts a little bit of progress to the next town was made. Dequincy. Tiny little railroad town, with not a lot going on in all honesty, but the people were friendly. Set up camp near the Railroad museum. Oh crikey. The railroad is still active. It’s quite a fright at 3am (until you regain a bit of sense) when the bottom of your tent gets brighter and brighter, and the sound of a train gets louder and louder.

Day 65: Dequincy, LA (thunderstorm)

So I guess the general theme of this post is sitting out a storm. Woke to the tent getting battered with rain and lightning flashes. Atmospheric and fun though, knowing the lightning had plenty of higher, more metallic objects to mess with.

Dequincy during the day is a beautiful little spot, there’s some awesome little independent coffee shops, which make sitting out a storm very enjoyable. They were all shut though. Small town on a Sunday syndrome.

The big yellow M to the rescue.

Day 66: Dequincy, LA to Kountze, TX (66 miles)

Finally the storm that the whole of Louisiana has been complaining about is over! It was replaced with light drizzle in the morning, which is nothing compared to the more recent rain, so was a pleasure to ride in. The storm brought with it a cold spell, so it’s the first time it’s felt properly cold on the trip so far. Nothing more layers and gloves don’t solve.

A great ride, the drizzle eventually easing (that phrase sounds like a weather report, don’t you think?). And there it was. Shining, covered in neon lights. Just kidding, it wasn’t shining or covered in neon lights. The Texas state line, at Deweyville, TX. Where the riding gets ‘real’ (i.e. headwinds and hills, apparently). Sorry about the hairy guy in this horrendously cheesy photo.

After a few hours more riding, I ended up at a little town called Kountze. It was getting on a bit by now, probably 7ish, so was dark. So far it’s become apparent that if you’re after a place to pitch a tent subtly and you’re in a tiny town with no parks, local churches generally grant you permission. It’s happened a few times now, and everyone’s been totally cool with it. So this was a bit of an unusual conversation, after knocking on a door that had a light on inside. And so began an introduction to Texas.

Knock, knock.

“Who is it?”

At this point I explained how I’d ended up at this door.

“Step away from the door, at least 10 metres away from the door!”.

This was becoming a bit odd, so I proceeded to explain I wasn’t a psychopath, murderer or trying to rob the place. Oh and by the way you really have to shout from 10 metres back. Eventually, Michael the minister opened the door slowly, and popped his head around the edge.

“OK. I give you permission to stay here. You can camp wherever you like. You have a weapon?!”

Nope, no weapon.

“There’s some crazy people out there, you should think about carrying a weapon.”

So after everything was explained, and permission was granted, I thought enough trust had been developed to seal the deal with a handshake. It wasn’t.

“What did I tell you about staying 10 metres back.”. 

Day 67: Kountze, TX to Cleveland, TX (53 miles)

Texas has certainly been quite a different experience so far. It’s like a soap opera.

Started off with more light rain and very cold temperatures. Werthers Originals to act as fuel. Do we still get them in the UK? The riding was pretty simple, on amazingly smooth roads. These are the roads Lance Armstrong trained on, a couple of people suggested today.

It was about 3pm, music pumping, through vast Texas cattle farms. The roads had been fairly quiet, but had picked up in the last hour. In the distance there was a woman and her dog walking on the side of the road. There’s nothing too strange about that, right?

Riding past, the dog caught sight and ran over the road, nearly getting hit by oncoming traffic. Woah. After a while, dogs running at you cease to be frightning. Rather than dog spray, simply stopping pedalling stops the dogs desire to chase you. But this one was different. First of all it wasn’t aggressive at all. No barking. Second of all, what the hell are you doing letting your dog run across a busy road?

Turns out it wasn’t her dog. It had followed her down the road, after a Jerry Springer-like incident minutes earlier. It involved tears and was all a bit bizarre to be honest. Lent her a cell phone (mobile – still rocking the British language) to call for a ride, and took the dog to a nearby house.

From there on Cleveland was the next town. A return to normality? Oh no. You know what they say about buses coming in two’s? It’s true. Anyway the next incident involved someone stealing a hat from Walmart and sprinting out of the store, being chased by about 7 security guards.

“Just another crackhead getting chased by the po po.”  Overheard. Hello Texas!

Some exciting, unique-to-Texas stuff coming up (involving video) in the next couple of posts which should mix up the more recent bicycle-based reports. Despite the first couple of days bizarre tales, there’s a great atmosphere in Texas, YEE HA!

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Quick link. Wrote a guest post for the chaps over at Brooks England – the saddle makers. I was a sceptic at first, I mean come on Brooks Saddles hardly look comfy, do they? You can check it out here. They were very creative with their captions. (p.s. it’s taken a while to go live due to the holidays so the mileage is out of sync)

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Rough map of the last few days:

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 57 – 62: Baton Rouge to Kinder, LA

Been taking shelter from a major thunderstorm for the last couple of days in South West Lousiana. Quick (rushed) catch up post today with phone images.

Day 57: Baton Rouge

Rest day in Baton Rouge. Spent the day getting organised and exploring. *Techy system alert* Decided to change up the stove system I’ve been using. It was a penny-stove. It’s now an MSR Whisperlite. The new one is heavier, but opens up the possibilities (i.e. you can do more than heat up tins or cook noodles). Also, the penny stove was a bit of a faff and the Whisperlite will fare better in the more remote parts of the route. Faff reduction – always a good thing. One of the things that life on the road makes you miss is a kitchen so this simple change is quite exciting.

Other than that it was awesome just to have a break. Louisiana seafood has been recommended a lot, so I found a little place near the motel to try the raved-about Gumbo, which is kind of like a seafood soup / rice combo. A great little local spot run by an old woman called Louise, funnily enough. Southern hospitality really is inspiring, the reports are true. She was totally cool and told great (and terrifying) stories about the local fishing community working in the fairly regular Gulf storms. The Gumbo was amazing, too!

Day 58: Baton Rouge to New Roads (33 miles)

Leaving Baton Rouge, it all changed. The contrast from urban and industrial to vast green countryside happened within the space of about a mile. The busy and intimidating Baton Rouge roads quickly lead to some of the best and quietest roads so far. Totally quiet, rural roads through old plantations. Super quiet, the only thing to listen to was the sound of cows, frogs and birds. A bit therapeutic.

It was always going to be a short day, after a late start. And it didn’t take too long to reach the end. Sunday in New Roads that meant everything other than a petrol station was shut, but in terms of a town atmosphere, it was a good one. An amazing old waterfront town, with the atmosphere and aesthetics of a Western film. Stealth camped right in the center of town in a park.

Day 59: New Roads to Lebeau (51 miles)

Late start making pancakes and pineapple on’t new stove. That’s the way to start the day!

It was all going so well. Stoked to get a big day in. But of course it’s never that simple! Sometimes, rather than after-the-fact write ups, it’s good to know what was happening at the time. I use Evernote to keep note of everything that happens throughout the day, and this is from Day 59’s note:

“Like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Except less comedy, more horror. Another puncture. Cycled the same stretch of road, twice now leaving NR. PITA bike.”

Whilst cycling out of New Roads, after about 7 miles, I got another puncture. Seems to be happening a lot recently. After a lot of faff, and the irritating realisation that the pump I picked up in Baton Rouge is a piece of crap, it was eventually sorted after hitching a ride back into New Roads (Cheers Susan!).

Bumped into Paul Guillott, a retiree who now spends a lot of his time exploring his home state on his Honda. By his own admission, he’s “living the dream” which is amazing. Sometimes he and his wife will just take off on the bike and travel up to 650 miles in a day, just to see a new place that they’ve never been to before. His bike is kitted out. Think heated leather seats and thumping music. Unfortunately Paul wasn’t in to the suggestion that we swap bikes. Gutted.

Also, I met a cyclist called Glen today who was cycling the Southern Tier route from West to East. He was on a snazzy lightweight road bike, with just a very light rucksack on his back, and clearly in a rush. Travelling light, and bouncing between hotels after taking 36 days leave from his work in Pennsylvania, he was gunning for it, averaging 92 miles a day. It’s always facinating exploring the 6 degrees of separation theory. Glen had lived in the Lake District and Guildford for a year during his college days. Small world.

The ride, after the puncture-faff, went well. It didn’t take long for it to get dark after setting off so late, so it was a lit up night ride. Ended up camping in a field in a tiny, tiny little village called Lebeau.

Day 60: Lebeau to Kinder (63 miles)

Up at first light, and on the bike early. Definitely the way to do it if you’re after doing big days. Bumped into Terry in a town called Washington – the jolliest chap in Louisiana, who  provided the first indication of what was to come.

“You be careful now. You’re gonna want to bunk up for the next few days. There’s going to be 8 inches of rain coming down this evening.” I checked the forecast, and he was spot on.

The storm was due at about 5pm. So luckily there was still a good few hours to make a bit of progress. Through Opelousas, Eunice, Basile and Elton, and eventually ending up at Kinder when the rain started to fall.

Day 61: Kinder (5 miles)

The forecast was right. There’s a major storm here. Intense rain and lightning every minute. Some of the schools are closing due to flood warnings, so it’s not something the locals are taking lightly. They’re hunkering down, so being on the road isn’t too appealing. Sitting it out in a budget motel for a night.

I was talking to a couple of people earlier, and when talking about what they get up to in Kinder, they mentioned the Casino was “the only entertainment for miles around.” Gambling is a huge part of American culture, so I was interested to check it out, and of course win big with my $10. Unfortunately filming wasn’t permitted, but it was a unique experience for sure. Such an in-your-face atmosphere with all the lights and the music bombarding the senses. It was eye opening to see the locals who come every day, and spend all day here.  It was as though life had vanished from behind their eyes as they looked into the slot machines and pulled the lever, time after time, hoping for a big win whilst simultaneously losing money.  One of the themes that a lot of the people in the casino talked about, was how they had begun regularly gambling once retired. It’s easy to see how that world can hook people who are looking for something to fill their time with.

Day 62: Kinder

Just a rest day in Kinder. Nothing much to report about today. More intense rain, a little less lightning. Setting off tomorrow to try and make Texas in the gap between storms. The Texan state line is in sight, which is where the riding gets ‘serious’ apparently.

“Make sure you don’t lose your mind in East and Central Texas! After that it’s some of the best riding out there”. Glen mentioned that East and Central Texas is for sure the hardest part of the Southern Tier route, with the gradients and the nothingness, so it sounds like it’ll be interesting.

Ready for something deep? I’ve been having a few mental battles recently about what this all means, whether it even is meaningful, the pace and people, and coping with the solo aspects of travelling – there’s a dark side for sure, in the mind. The metaphorical roller coaster ride was always expected, though, so it’s not a concern. On the down days, it’s people like Louise, Paul and Terry who, by telling their story, provide much needed positivity and a mental lift. It’s great to completely forget about the route, the cycling, the blog, the filming etc sometimes.

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Quick link. I recently did a guest post for BicycleTouringPro which you can read here. Take a look around the site too, it’s crammed full of useful info, great stories and motivating adventures – a great resource if you’re wanting to know about anything to do with cycle touring.

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 51 – 56: Daphne, AL to Baton Rouge, LA

Excuse the radio silence for the last few days, the blog has been frozen for longer than intended. But, there’s a story behind it, so let’s dive right in. Quick iPhone photos/video to accompany.

Day 51 – Daphne, AL to Lucedale, MS (56 miles)

Set off from Daphne and after a mellow ride out of town, arrived on the outskirts of Mobile, AL. It’s a really impressive aesthetic city, with some amazing buildings. In contrast to that, just 5 miles further out of the city, it’s a different story entirely. Towns which were obviously thriving just a few years ago, now totally quiet. No people, everything boarded up, abandoned stuff. The recession hit hard.

More night riding, and through the Alabama / Mississippi state line, I ended up at a diner in Lucedale, MS, where there was probably 100 people packed in. It was Sunday night and these were all church-goers who were on their way home from church. It was the 30th December, so it was a celebratory New Years dinner. Here’s just a few of them. Such positive folk.

Day 52 – Lucedale, MS to Wiggins, MS (38 miles)

Groggy morning waking up in another stealth camp. This time in a park. Life of luxury, eh? Up and away early in an attempt to re-jig the body clock. Straight out of Lucedale was amazing. Dense dewey fog hovering above green farmscapes. There was really nothing in between Lucedale and Wiggins other than countryside. No towns, no people, few houses. So it was a simple town-to-town ride, ending in Wiggins, a tiny little town, to see in New Year. The people of Wiggins were really welcoming, and explained that the county was a dry county, and most people leave town for New Year to the coast. So it wasn’t very rock and roll, but there were some fireworks so all’s well that ends well.

Day 53 – Wiggins, MS to Bogalusa, LA (43 miles)

You know when you’re riding your bike and a fly ends up in your mouth? This happened for the majority of the day today.

Another state line, Louisiana. Get in.

It was grey and cloudy. The kind of clouds that you look at and think it might drizzle lightly for a few minutes. And then it did. But it was Louisiana rain. Nature’s power shower, with no let up. I wasn’t prepared for it at all. The waterproofs were stuffed in the panniers, somewhere. Electronics weren’t in their dry bags. So it was a frantic rush to make sure everything was safe from the rain. And then to try and find the waterproofs. I’d not ridden in heavy rain before this, and it was actually really enjoyable.

Ended up camping on the outskirts of Bogalusa, with totally drenched kit. Waking up with clothes that were still wet, and heavy, definitely influenced the following days decision.

Day 54 – Bogalusa, LA to Franklinton, LA (20 miles)

The last few days have been really hilly. Moving inland, away from the coast, the game is starting to change: rain, headwind and hills. It’s making a big difference, and after the wheel incident, I’m focused on shedding as much unnecessary weight as possible. So first on the ticklist was to visit a post office and ship a bunch of stuff on to California. For now the focus is on light. What a difference it made. The first few miles out of Bogalusa were like riding a new bike with a slightly higher average speed. Unfortunately, sending the stuff on had taken a long time, so it was a late start.

After an hour of cycling, it rained again. Heavy rain, just like yesterday. This time wasn’t as horrible; jackets and waterproofs were at the ready. But going through Franklinton, there were loads of obvious spots to set up camp. An early finish to a late start.

Day 55 – Franklinton, LA to Baton Rouge, LA (73 miles)

Cycling is a funny game. After nearly two months of riding, it’s less physical, far more mental. You can tell at the start of the day whether it’s going to be a big day.

Today started this way. The Sat Nav showed that I had 106 miles remaining (to New Roads, LA.) As that number decreases, there’s no way you’re stopping. Not until it’s reached zero. That is unless something happens that stops you. “Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.” It’s true, you know, that well known saying. So after several hours of going for it, the bike lighter than ever, hip-hop music blasting in my ears, huge wide shoulders through inspiring Louisiana countryside, there was a very strange clicking noise, and it was obvious something wasn’t right.

The clicking turned out to be a piece of wire that had gone straight through the rear tyre and punctured the tube. It’s not been a good run lately, but no worries, it’s only a puncture. That’s what the toolkit’s for.

If the video below doesn’t show in your email browser, click here.

The bicycle pump is usually in my camera bag. That’s where it’s been for the last 55 days. So why was it not there? After a confusing few minutes, emptying all the pannier bags in search of the pump, it was nowhere to be found. Well that sucks, must have lost it along the way. With no way to fix the puncture, I walked to the lights in the distance, which turned out to be a gas station. If you use Schrader valve inner tubes, gas stations are a dream sight. There’s almost always an air pump outside. And there was at this one, too. Happy days, problem solved! Nope, I’m using Presta valves. After unsuccessful attempts at trying to bodge the air pump, it wasn’t going anywhere. Time to call it a day.

A mile or so down the road (in the suburbs of Baton Rouge now) there was a huge playing field / methodist church garden. Prime camping spot. I set up the tent, off the road and out of sight, ready to be away early, get the tyre fixed and hopefully make at least a little bit of progress. It’s been a slow few days after all. Unfortunately, the police were doing routine patrols. And of course this stealth camp site was on their list. American police are quite intimidating, but there’s nothing like cycling to provide a little common ground. After explaining the situation, the policeman made a very cycle-specific joke.

“That’s what you get when you use Presta valves!” Fair play, officer. Turns out he was a cyclist and would turn a blind eye to the stealth camp.

“But be careful. That side of the road is the crime hotspot of Baton Rouge. You should be fine here, but just over there is where the highest homicide rate in the city is.” 

Moral of the story? I’m not too sure, but it’s probably something to do with carrying a bike pump.

Day 56 – Baton Rouge, LA to… TBC

It’s day 56 now, and I’m quickly piecing together this post on the outskirts of Baton Rouge. The bike still has a puncture, but the bike shop isn’t too far away, so hopefully not for much longer.

A rough map of the last few days:

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 47 – 50: Fort Walton Beach, FL to Daphne, AL

It’s been an interesting few days; Bike parts have broken. Tornadoes have been active. Mileage has been minimal. Momentum has halted. 

Day 47: Fort Walton Beach to Gulf Breeze, FL (35 miles)

Boxing day morning. “Just whatever you do, make sure you don’t head West”. That’s what Sue, the motel receptionist said, as I left FWB after Christmas. Sorry Sue, west is the way to California. Unfortunately there had been reports of various tornados, thunderstorms and generally extreme weather in nearby areas.

However, the adverse conditions hit on Christmas day, and other than high winds and cold temperatures, boxing day was clear and bright, and there were no more active weather warnings.

It was the coldest day so far for sure, and into the headwind it was tough. Sometimes the roads are conducive to pleasant / not-too-stressful night riding conditions. Today was in contrast to that, and with a constant and strong headwind, night riding wasn’t on the agenda. A super short day of riding, to end up at Gulf Breeze, and a camp on the waterfront.

Day 48: Gulf Breeze, FL to Daphne, AL (56 miles)

Faffed about with the stove to cook up some breakfast on the deserted waterfront, only to find out the lighter was knackered. No cooking breakfast then.

The riding was pretty good. Quickly over the bridge from Gulf Breeze into Pensacola. And soon outside of Pensacola were the first proper hills. A decent bit of leg burn. Days like this are always stand-out days, simply because of state line crossings. There’s usually a massive sign, a lot of the times even a ‘Welcome to’ Visitor Centre. No such thing here. The state line was marked by a river, and it wasn’t obvious at all. And finally it wasn’t ‘straight generally-flat roads through the woods’.

Entering Alabama meant vast farmland and rivers. A visual change, finally. That’s a relief. And then magic hour. Alabama has topped it – the most awesome sky so far. Here’s a cheesy photo.

Pulling in to the suburbs of Daphne, now in the dark, I ended up taking a short cut on what started out as a quality clay path through the woods. Very Blair Witch. It soon turned out to be what can only be described as a downhill mountain biking trail. Gotta admit, it was a lot of fun to be off-road and to add a bit of spice to the riding. Maybe not sensible or wise, though. But fun, definitely.

After that ridiculous endeavour I camped in the least subtle place so far. Essentially on a lawn about 5 metres off the main road. It’s funny how systems work themselves out. If you pitch up late, it’s generally safe to say no-one will bother you until the morning, so if you can be packed up early, well then you’re sorted.

Day 49 & 50: Daphne, AL

Very dark clouds looming over Daphne whilst packing up the tent. And a puncture on the back wheel. Sometimes it’s easy to tell if a day on the road isn’t gonna go to plan, and this was one of those times.

I’d passed a bike shop the previous night, which was probably less than a mile away, so decided seeing as the wheel was punctured, I may as well take this opportunity to get the bottom bracket replaced as it’s been playing up and is on it’s last legs, and the rear tyre replaced as it’s now about as thin as an inner tube.

In the bike shop, it was all going so well. The staff were awesome and the shop was great. Unfortunately we noticed that the rim had a crack in it. S**T! On closer inspection, it wasn’t just one crack, it was loads. Literally covered in cracks. Now last nights off-road escapades lasted all of ten minutes, so I’m doubtful that’s the cause. Perhaps though. I think in all likelihood it’s the toll of nearly two months of heavy weight loaded over the rear wheel. In any case, there was a days delay before having access to a new rim.

Conveniently, mother nature decided to POUR down. Welcome to Alabama. So being forced out-of-action, and in close proximity to the cinema, it seemed appropriate to catch up on films. Just a hint if you’re ever planning on doing something similar and solo stealth camping most of the time: Don’t watch The Hobbit before finding a spot to camp. Gollum will put you on edge. Well done CGI.

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So not the best of days, with not much progress made, and major bike problems, but these things happen. I’m way behind anticipated schedule, and the budget has taken a solid hit because of the fix, so fingers crossed the next few days go a little smoother. It’d be nice to boost the averages, make up some ground and generally get back into the swing of it.

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 42 – 46: Crawfordville to Fort Walton Beach, FL

With the holidays upon us & people spending time with their families, the video interviews etc are hard-to-come-by at the moment, but will resume as soon as possible. Here’s another mainly cycling update (images quickly taken from iPhone):

Day 42 – Crawfordville (0 miles)

Ended up having another day off (in the same place as the previous update) to recover from a bout of chesty illness. It was amazing to spend some recovery time catching up on sleep and having shelter indoors.

Day 43 – Crawfordville to Blountstown, FL (55 miles)

Two consecutive days off, and at the tail end of illness. And a corker of a day.

A late start from The Inn at Wildwood, I didn’t get going until 12.15. When you have the opportunity of a decent nights kip,the check out time becomes your go-time. Quick stop for some breakfast and supplies in Crawfordville and time to properly get moving.

As far as the riding, if it had happened at the start of the trip, it’d be exciting. Wonderful long roads through the woods. The truth is though, that I’ve spent days and days on ‘wonderful long roads through the woods’ so I’m looking forward to a change of scenery. No complaints though, it was easy riding, perfect opportunity to plug in to an audio book (Catch 22) and zone out. A moderate headwind and the first of the hills, but none significant. The bike’s bottom bracket is making some horrible crunching noises – don’t think it has a lot of life left in it. Crunch.

Today brought with it another trip-first; a new time-zone. The move from Eastern Standard Time (EST) to Central Standard Time (CST), which it will be for a while now, up until close to El Paso, TX. Such seemingly small signs of progress are great mental boosts.

Scariest moment of the day, without any question, was the bridge between Bristol and Blountstown. Jeez. I’m sure in daylight it’s fine. But at night (it was around 7pm), it’s daunting. There’s no shoulder, the cars are moving fast and there’s a shockingly low wall blocking a huge drop into the river below. I stood at the Bristol end of the bridge for about 5 minutes, just looking at the cars going past and seeing if there were any tricks to the crossing. Really it would be a case of becoming as bright and lit-up as possible and fully sprinting to the other side when there was a decent gap between cars. Bike, don’t screw up now. Nothing like a bit of adrenaline to get your legs spinning fast. Once on the bridge, there was no turning back, but thankfully like most daunting things in the moment it wasn’t too bad. Luckily there weren’t too many cars to deal with, and the lights obviously worked, so good times.

Ended the day at perhaps the nicest stealth camp spot so far, just behind a local Methodist church in the town centre of Blountstown. It didn’t appear all that nice whilst pitching, but in the morning it turned out to be a beautiful riverside spot. A good omen for a new day perhaps?

Day 44 – Bountstown to Fort Walton Beach (102 miles)

Today’s the day. After yesterdays late start, today I was on the road by 9am and raring to go, definitely over the worst of the illness.

In the morning, I’d had the thought that as long as body doesn’t say otherwise, I was going to try to cycle for 12 hours, with minimal breaks. I know it’s not about the mileage, but if the landscape today is similar to that of yesterday, and the holidays are here, so people are spending time with their families, it seems like a perfect time to get the miles in. Plus, day 5’s total of 81 miles hadn’t been topped yet, and it had been over a month, so it would be an interesting experiment.

Pedal pedal pedal. Through the woods. By 3pm – 50 miles. Into light headwind and minimal rolling hills. 4.20pm – 62 miles. Nightfall. Lights On. 9pm – 85 miles. Coffee break and escape from the saddle. 11pm – 102 miles.

Great to finally do a triple-figure day, especially before the hills and winds get too bad (a few people have mentioned travelling from East to West in Texas is going to be awful?!). Although how on earth people like Mark Beaumont manage to do 100+ miles consecutively for months is crazy.

Ended the day, once again stealth camped behind a church, this time in Fort Walton Beach, FL.

Day 45 – 46 – Fort Walton Beach

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day! No cycling here.

Woke up in the tent to the sound of battering rain. Seems to do that a lot in Florida. And sat it out until it became less-heavy at around midday. Christmas Eve meant time to get a motel.

I’m writing this late on Christmas day (day 46) and have spent the day Skypeing the fam back in Blighty, exploring the gulf coast round Fort Walton and eating obscene amounts of food. Tomorrow it begins again.

Seems like a long time ago crossing the GA / FL state line, but now the end of the panhandle is here it means the next report will be from a new state. Happy holidays!

A rough map from the last few days:

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Happy Holidays! [video]

Happy Holidays! It’s been quiet on the blog for a few days but there’ll be a new update tomorrow.

For now though, here’s a bit of cycle-related inspiration for your Christmas day:

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 39 – 41: Gainesville to Crawfordville, FL

Case of the manflu so it’s a rushed post – will put up video and more in-depth writing soon – this is a quick ride update.

Day 39 – Gainesville to Mayo, FL (66 miles)

The bike got a service. Yeah! Meant a late start but worth it to have a fresh bike. Sounds like the bottom bracket may not have too much life in it, but should be good for a while so it’ll be interesting to see if it holds up to San Diego.

Florida, without question, is the best state to cycle in so far. There’s a state law saying that cars have to leave 3ft between them and any cyclists and the road shoulders, on the whole, are huge.

After a great ride through farmland and rural Florida (the sound of donkeys is quite bizarre when you can’t see them) the day finished, after several hours of night riding, in Mayo at 10.00pm. And with no headwinds at all.

Day 40 – Mayo to Crawfordville, FL (80 miles)

What a road. It’s probably one of the best roads so far. The Coastal Highway.

Set off from Mayo at about midday. Simple cycling enjoying the long flat roads that stretch into the distance, yet again with no significant headwinds. Just turn off and pedal. The sunny day turned to an amazingly clear and starry night on the road. Here’s a couple of snaps:

At around 8pm, in the distance there were a couple of flickering lights on the other side of the road, and after a while there was the sound of blasting metal music. ‘Ey up, what’s this about? Turned out to be Simon and Mike, from Gainesville. Gainesville? Maybe they’d been out for a long day ride. Nope. Simon had been on the road for 18 months, after setting off from Gainesville, and had cycled (with a boom box – hence the music!) to Washington state and this was his final couple of days before returning home. Mike had joined the ride in Louisiana for the final part. It was enjoyable and insightful to chat with someone who’d been living the bike life for so long. It sounds fairly bloody epic, bears and all.

More night riding and a late finish in Crawfordville, where the wonderful people at The Inn At Wildwood sorted out a room for a couple of nights.

Day 41 – Crawfordville, FL

Today there’s been thunderstorms and heavy rain across Florida, and tomorrow it clears up again. The offer of indoor accommodation couldn’t have come at a better time. Happy coincidence there. This was earlier:

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Thanks again to The Inn At Wildwood – if you’re passing check it out. Great staff and an awesome place to hang out – especially when it’s pouring down! Onwards!

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 36 – 38: St Augustine to Gainesville, FL

After spending day 36 off the bike in St A taking care of online stuff, followed by stealth camping in the least subtle place so far (about 15 metres away from the main road), on day 37 there was a definite renewed motivation to get moving. West we go.

Day 37: St Augustine to near Hawthorne, FL (51 miles)

A shoddy nights kip just off the road in St Augustine, packing up was sloth-like, but eventually everything was in the bags.

The roads out of St Augustine are a dream for a cyclist, on a Sunday at least. Cycle lanes, whoulda’ thought it? And quiet, well maintained roads. So far, Florida is definitely leading in the cycle lane and hassle-free roads league table. It was fairly easy through Palatka, then Interlachen – the GPS showing the longest single road navigation so far – 126 miles.

Because of a liberal start in the morning, it became dark around Palatka so on came the lights. On quiet roads, night riding can be a blast. Depending on where you are, it can be a bit spooky, but not so on this ride. Until Hawthorne that is.

After a good half-hour of hunting for a place to put up the tent, I actually cycled past a campground, by chance. Gated and fenced, I called the buzzer at the main entrance, to be greeted by an aggressive sounding chap, who could say nothing other than “WHO YA KNOW?!” and “WHAT YA WANT?!”. Well to camp, please sir. At the campground that you own. After an unsuccessful attempt I moved on, across the street and found a sandy, wooded area near the local church. The morning after:

Day 38: Hawthorne to Gainesville, FL (26 miles)

Another shoddy sleep. Consecutive rubbish sleeps have caught up. In the morning, drained would be an appropriate word. Groggy, another. I woke and just wasn’t into it – weak, lethargic, and not in any way keen. Jog on, Carpe diem.

On the bike, I usually carry two water bottles on the frame (with 2 more water-carriers available in the pannier bags which are kept empty until the more remote areas). Yesterday I must have left one of the main water bottles somewhere, or perhaps it fell out. Either way I woke up and didn’t have any water left, or food. So still half-asleep I set off and stopped at the first place that sold a source of sustenance. It didn’t come for about 18 miles on the outskirts of Gainesville. It was a frustrating morning, slowly pedalling away on long roads that stretched into the distance, hoping for something over the horizon, to then be greeted by more of the same.

Oh, and headwinds. The arch nemesis of cyclists everywhere. They haven’t been a problem for the first month at all, and today they’ve been consistent all day. Guess that’s what happens with a shift of the direction. It’s slow progress, noticeably. I’m going to see how the next couple of days go and then perhaps send a bunch of stuff on to a maildrop to reduce some of the weight in the bags in preparation for the slogs.

I called it a day fairly early in Gainesville, having never really perked up since the morning. But this is the struggle. I signed up for the struggle, for the groggy days. The struggle is one of the best parts, retrospectively of course. So, embrace and crack on. Looking to do a sustained consecutive period of 50+ mile days for a while just to see a bit of Westward progress so we’ll see how it goes tomorrow. Onwards and into the wind!

 

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Rough Map:

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 31 – 35: Jesup, GA – St Augustine, FL

After setting up a mail drop for St Augustine, I’ve had the unusual task of maintaining a fixed schedule over the last few days. With the post not due to arrive in St A until Friday, it’s been a few days of light spins. Nothing too eventful has happened to be honest, but it does mark the end of stage one of the journey.

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Day 31 – Jesup to Nahunta, GA (28 miles)

Set off late after finishing the previous blog at 5.20pm! Bring on the night riding. It wasn’t a complicated day, just simple cycling on a quiet road with a nice shoulder to ride on. I was passing through Nahunta when Blanche, a local woman who owned the town’s hotel, offered camping space in the hotel grounds. Camping that’s allowed, as always, much more relaxing than being discreet. So it was with surprise at around 3am, getting woken by what sounded like the loudest foghorn ever made. In the morning, the cause became instantaneously obvious:

Day 32 – Nahunta, GA to Callahan, FL (48 miles)

An early start just to get away from that bloody noise. The 301S road totally quiet with huge straight sections that stretched right to the horizon. Plenty of this, and then eventually there was a river. St Mary’s River, which splits the state line. Florida, a new state, and the final state in stage one of the journey.

Pedalled on for a while to finish the day in Callahan, FL. After some very unenthusiastic, and unsuccessful, attempts to scout a spot to camp, I ended up in the most budget (for a reason) motel room. Anyone like bugs? You’da loved it.

Day 33 – Callahan, FL to Jacksonville, FL (22 miles)

Up and out of here, early start. Oh hang on, it’s pouring down. Tropical rain-style. I spent a while repacking the bike bags to make sure all the vitals were in drybags and safe from the rain, and saw a forecast that said there was to be heavy consistent rain all day. Spent the rest of the day getting soaked and attempting to avoid the heaviest of the downpours, with mixed success. Arrived in to Jacksonville in a heavy downpour as the light was disappearing – a very aesthetic nighttime skyline from the riverfront.

Day 34 – Jacksonville to St Augustine, FL (37 miles)

The simplest cycle ride possible. Essentially a straight road from Jacksonville right the way to St Augustine. Not overly visual or stunning roads or anything, but I found it very easy to get in to ‘the zone’ due to this being the last day of the first leg.

I pulled in to St Augustine and was very kindly offered a room at the Quality Inn – don’t worry there’ll be many more stealth camping stories soon enough!

Day 35 – St Augustine

Going to have a peruse of St Augustine today, so other than cycling around town there’s no miles today. So that’s it, the end of the first part of the journey. The first corner. It’s been an incredible experience already, and I’m excited to begin heading west, across the country tomorrow. Ready for a corny photo taken in the wind?

P.s. Just bumped into my first cycle tourers; Marcus and Yulanda from Switzerland who have been on the road for 5 months and head to Argentina on New Years Day for more touring, they’re loving it! More on that in another post. And also, a huge big up to my buddies Isaac and Sarah for sending a parcel rammed full of Campbell’s goodies, happy days – thanks guys!

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 27 – 30: Savannah – Richmond Hill – Fort McAllister – Jesup, GA

Day 27: Savannah – Richmond Hill (23 miles)

The morning was spent having a look around Savannah, exploring the sights and drinking a lot of of orange juice. Interesting place with amazing historical sights and architecture, and typical college-town contrast – the quiet town I was in, surely in contrast to that when the student population returns after the holidays. It seemed to now be mainly tourists walking around the popular River St and Broughton St. There are a lot of cyclists cruising the streets, and well thought out lanes, which is unusual for many of the towns and cities visited on this trip so far. After a few hours of typical-tourist stuff in the town, I began cycling out of Savannah at around 3pm, keen to get cracking with  the aim being to find somewhere to sleep. In Richmond Hill, outside of Savannah, nestled between a Church and a housing complex was a football-pitch-sized field. That’ll do.

Day 28: Richmond Hill (3 miles)

All set for the bigger miles today, I woke up early to get going. Unfortunately I’d pitched in an ants nest. Not the best of starts.

It wasn’t a very eventful day other than a chance meeting. Quick stop to pick up supplies, and I bumped in to two folks called Frank Thompson and Ty Stowe, both from out of town. They were intrigued by the bike outside, and after chatting about the Vague Direction project, they mentioned what they were in Richmond Hill for. An unusual invite, there was no way I was going to miss this, so plans for the days cycling were halted, because…

Day 29: Richmond Hill – Fort McAllister (9 miles)

It’s 1864, there’s cannons going off. It’s the civil war. Thousands of William Sherman’s Union forces are preparing to attack a small number of Confederate forces, to take the strategic position of Fort McAllister. Only kidding, no time travel here, it’s still 2012 of course. This is a civil war re-enactment held in the same location as the Battle of Fort McAllister in December 1864, nearly 150 years ago. And this is what Frank and Ty were in town for. They, and around a hundred others, are Civil War reenactors, and were in Fort McAllister to recreate those 1864 scenes, play-by-play and in real time.

Having never been to a reenactment before, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But it was epic and the people were so friendly. A complete range of men and women, from retirees through to workers to students. Even a heavy-metal / hardcore vocalist. Whole families as well as individuals. Large groups walking round with huge muskets, in genuine clothing, and speaking in traditional ways. Cannons going off. Huge flags being waved. Orders being shouted. Everyone was really happy to share the story and incredibly welcoming, and really enjoying the battle. What did surprise me though, was the amount of people laying on the grass having a nap in the sunshine. Everyone has to sleep, but whole groups having a nap in the midst of a battle?!

It seems like after chatting to many of the reenactors, it’s a hobby that runs through families, generation after generation – a lot of the people were born into it and often their direct relatives took part in the actual civil war. Here’s a quick video with Ty, Michael Croft and Lawson Owens – in the fort and the traditional campground, looking at how they got into this, and what they enjoy about it.

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After the battle was over, I spent time with some of the participants, which was great fun, and also some of the local people who had come to watch the Battle. Guns are common place in Georgia, so it was interesting to chat to one of audience members about personal security on this trip. He was shocked that I wasn’t carrying a firearm. And after explaining that in the UK guns aren’t common place, what followed was a slightly uncomfortable conversation about what positives carrying a gun can bring.

“You don’t carry a gun?! What if you have to defend yourself?”. He has a whole host of firearms, ranging from handguns that he keeps on him at all times, to shotguns and more. He mentioned that his house is covered in CCTV cameras, and he’s stockpiled ammunition in case one day it’s needed. I was hit by a sense that perhaps this all indicates an end-of-the-world paranoia, but perhaps the situation in the South is very different to that of the UK.

A unique and fun day nearly over, time spent with the reenactors was something I won’t forget. They were incredibly welcoming and once again it was a case of warm Southern hospitality. As the day came to a close, I found a park bench in the trees just outside Fort McAllister, and after the gun talk felt a sense of paranoia myself, with strange sounds (which turned out to be squirrels dropping stuff from the trees) and total darkness. Another night of spooky luxury!

Day 30: Fort McAllister – Jesup (56 miles)

Up at first light. Awful nights sleep. Bitten by bugs. Let’s go. Incredible empty roads to start the day’s pedalling.

But something was wrong with the bike. The chain was skipping every 7 pedal strokes. Strange, but something to take care of when stopped in a better place. Passing through Hinesville a little later, and getting annoyed by the skipping, the plan was to stop, get something to eat and then take care of the chain. So as I was pulling up to a shop, SNAAAP. Funny how things work. Chain snap number 2.

After a painless and relatively fast fix (and a thought that I really need to get the chain replaced asap), and now fuelled up, the next stop was Jesup after a few hours of easy riding on wide shoulders. The plan was to keep going further and to drop the miles to St Augustine, but after filling water I was offered a complimentary room at a local independent hotel, the Red Carpet Inn – can’t refuse that after the last few nights. People must really like bikes with a lotta’ bags.