Tag: cycle touring

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Adventure Bicycle Travel

Day 83 – 91: Sanderson to El Paso, TX

Day 83: Sanderson. Rest day and blog catch up. Not much happening in Sanderson.

Day 84: Sanderson to Marathon (55 miles)

Slow morning getting the bike sorted. Had to replace tube as there was a slow puncture. Nice ride through more desert landscapes. Sanderson is actually the ‘Cactus Capital’ of Texas, and there’s definitely a lot’of’em. Awesome sunset to darkness riding. Totally empty road, and insanely clear sky, to the point where it was more fun to ride in the moonlight than turn on any bike lights. Ended up at a campsite just outside Marathon at about 8pm.

Day 85: Marathon. 

Woke up run down, knackered and chesty, so ended up just resting. It definitely seems pretty easy to get sick whilst on the road, nutrition is super important. Plus side was that it was SuperBowl Sunday. The town is pretty small, and the local hotel was where the game was being shown, in a room with a massive buffalo stuck to the wall. Despite local help, the rules are still confusing.

Day 86: Marathon to Alpine (31 miles)

Paul Kranendonk from Rotterdam was pulling into the campsite as I was leaving. He’d set off from San Diego and was heading to Jacksonville, FL. It was his 11th day on the road. 11th! Talk about fast progress. But understandable considering he needs to be back at work at the beginning of March! In 2008 he cycled the Great Divide with his wife (together they’ve clocked up a massive amount of cycle touring experience), and it was interesting to hear his perspective on the difference between solo versus team travelling. Also, a few days ago he was chased by 4 massive dogs and had to sprint for 3km to outrun them. Fair play!

After chatting with Paul, and stocking up at the Grocery store, it was getting late (recurring theme?!), so I ended up in Alpine fairly late after more night riding. Big thanks to Sam at the Highland Inn for sorting out a last minute room – nice spot to rest and see the town if you’re passing through!

Day 87: Alpine to US-90 Rest Area (5 miles)

Wasn’t feeling it again, with more chesty sickness, even after an indoor night. Cruised into the historic part of Alpine (which is super nice – all local stores that have gone unchanged for years). Spent a lot of time reading in the park, and didn’t even try leaving the town until 5.30pm. It’s always tricky to be motivated after such a late start. Ended up calling it a day at a rest stop overlooking some incredibly aesthetic hills. Location definitely has a big impact on general psyche, and this one helped to improve the day.

Day 88: US-90 Rest Area to Valentine (57 miles)

Brrr. Cold night so good to see the sun and it’s warmth. In Louisiana, Glen the cyclist had mentioned that the roads in West Texas are a nightmare when it comes to rolling resitance. For a while I’ve not had a clue what he was on about. The roads in West Texas seem exactly the same as the ones in all the other states. But for the first time what he was talking about became clear. The road was made differently, with big pebbles stuck into the surface, which definitely slowed everything down. It didn’t last long though, because literally at the sign that marked entering a new county, the road became smooth again.

It’s been quite strange cycling through the Texas desert. Many of the towns are dilapidated, but every so often a town in the middle of nowhere will be vibrant and bustling. Passing through Marfa was one of those times. Small town but with a lot of quirky people and a heavy art scene. This was on the way in to town, a lotta’ heavy Q’s (if you look carefully the artist has signed it):

Left Marfa, after a brief stop and explore, and pedalled to Valentine (once again a tiny town where almost everything is boarded up and shut down – quite spooky). I was running out of water, so stopped to attempt to scrounge some from the farmers who were in their yard. Kirkby and Maria owned the roadside farm in Valentine, and had hosted cyclists before. They offered the yard as a place to crash, and I jumped at the chance.

“You can sleep in the shipping container if you like? It’ll be warmer than outside.” After the previous night, anything to escape the cold was amazing.

Day 89: Valentine to Allamoore, via Van Horn (50 miles)

Woke up in the shipping container. (That’s probably not a sentence that gets written much.) Thankfully it was still on the farm and not out at sea. That would have been more challenging.

Day started off great, through deserty-farm land, similar to the last few days really. Got quite hot and dusty from about midday though. Ended up running out of water close to Van Horn, which even for only 15 miles wasn’t too pleasant. Usually it’s never a problem, there’s always somewhere to fill up, but this stretch is quite sparse (if you’re going to be cycling this stretch, make sure you carry more than you think you’ll need).

The railway ran next to the road for most of the day, and a regular sight was seeing the Border Patrol driving their 4×4’s on the dirt track next to the tracks, towing tyres. Anyone know what this is about?

Quite a tough section pulling in to Van Horn. Not because of hills or anything like that, but because you can see Van Horn from miles away, shimmering away in the distance. And you know there’s water and all that goodness, if you can just make it to the shimmering city. But it doesn’t seem to get any closer, no matter how hard you pedal. It was like a mirage for a while, quite bizarre. But eventually Van Horn provided an oasis.

Stayed in Van Horn until quite late, just to get out of the heat for a while. From Van Horn, the way to El Paso is via the Interstate (I10), which is the equivalent to the motorway in the UK (i.e. busy and fast). Started this section at about 9PM, after getting kitted out in everything high-vis. To be honest, the shoulder is so wide that it’s probably safer than the other roads, but nonetheless it has an air of intimidation, especially getting on from a junction.

Cycled for an hour or so, and ended up finding a spot in between the interstate and the road that runs parallel to it. Crazy clear sky, which made it a bit more bearable, as the bivvy spot was a patch of dirt in between some concrete traffic blocks, near the railway, outside a factory.

Day 90: Allamoore to El Paso (106 miles)

El Paso was a fair way off, so I thought an early start was in order to arrive on time. Didn’t quite realise how early. In the haze of last night (first time on Interstate, finding a sleeping spot etc), it slipped my mind, even after seeing the great big sign, that I’d crossed into a new time zone (MST). Alarm set for 5AM. But of course my phone was still showing Central time. It meant an unintentional 4AM start. All good really though, it wasn’t the most luxurious sleeping spot anyway. Here’s a video of late Day 89 and early 90 (I hadn’t realised the time zone mistake at this point):

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After a few very early, and very dark miles to Sierra Blanca, the sun came up and brought with it a heavy dose of amazing. The longest and fastest downhill of the trip so far. It was top gear for about an hour, full speed ahead. At points you’re going so fast that pedalling doesn’t make a difference, so you can sit back and let gravity do the work. As good as cycling gets. After the initial steepness, it flattened out a little bit but it was never slow. Never a low gear, all the way into El Paso. Without a doubt the most fun riding so far.

Ended up cycling some of this stretch with Arvid from Sweden, who’s a Navy officer that sailed into Florida and has a month off the boat. He’s travelling light, on a road bike, and between motels mainly. His month off is coming to an end in 12 days so he’s trying to make as much progress as possible and will fly back to Florida from wherever he ends up.

Got into El Paso around 3pm after taking a couple of long-ish breaks along the way. Lucky enough to be staying for the next couple of nights at the Hyatt El Paso. It’s quite a different setup to the shipping container!

Day 91: El Paso, TX

Catching up on the blog, and chilling out for the day thanks to the wonderful people at the Hyatt (thanks for your incredible hospitality!). Staying here until Sunday morning and then will head for New Mexico. It’s amazing to take a full day off the bike, and not have to worry about keeping a constant eye on kit. Even though it’s been slow, travelling through the desert and not getting much sleep in the process was definitely quite draining. Stoked to recharge. But blimey, Texas in it’s own right has been an amazing ride, full of unforgettable experiences and incredible people.

For anyone cycling the Southern Tier east to west – you can avoid the interstate for miles if you come off at Allamoore. There’s a quiet road that runs in parallel until Sierra Blanca, about 15 metres away from the I10.

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Map of this stretch:

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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.

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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.