Brad is originally from Boston, and as a teenager sold drugs, until he was caught. On the day he was released from the jail that he’d spent the last 10 years in, he had a couple of options. Do something that would land him back inside – like punching someone, or choose a different path away from the place he’d now become comfortable. He chose to literally walk away. He’s been walking for the last 13 years.
“After 10 years, I had 60 dollars and one piece of paper. They dropped me off, right downtown Boston. Thousands of people, I didn’t understand what, who. I was taken care of for 10 years. I didn’t know how to live. I was scared and nervous, because I didn’t know how to react around these people. So, I seen a crossing guard, across the street. And I said, well, if I go and hit this guy, I can go right back home. But inside, my emotions in side me said no, just give it some time.”
Here’s a short film made in collaboration with Brad. Hope you take something away from it and share it with anyone who may be interested.
For the last week, I’ve been focusing more on the lifestyle aspect of the project and capturing material, rather than ‘truckin on and watching the signs go by. Some planned stuff was related to specific days in LA, so it’s been fun taking it easy, and taking it all in with that in mind.
The last post was written from Encinitas, where I spent a couple of super rough nights stealth bivvying. For some reason it felt really tense and on edge for both nights, so sleep was pretty minimal, but the ocean does wonders to wake you up after a rubbish night.
Then from there:
Day 121: Encinitas to Oceanside, CA (15 miles)
This section of coastline is amazing. I don’t know why, but cycling through forest and even desert becomes very ‘samey’ after a few days, but the ocean just doesn’t lose it’s charm. Weird. Nice ride on friendly roads, totally flat through Carlsbad and into Oceanside. Pulled into the beach at Oceanside as the sun was dropping, and there was a bunch of people out surfing just off the harbour. Being able to walk out along the harbour wall meant you were parallel to the waves, so there was plenty of photo opportunities and it was a unique and way better location when compared to the standard looking-out-from-the-beach.
Stealth bivvy once again, but this one was quite different. It was at the marina on a raised bit of grass, pretty hidden but with a bizarre buzzing noise next to a fence. You could alter the noise with your hands – which sounds weird and is tricky to explain – but by waving your hands you could make a tune. After a while the buzzing stopped and making music wouldn’t work anymore, so a guess is that the fence was electric and got turned off.
Day 122: Oceanside to Dana Point, CA (30 miles)
Sea mist is damp isn’t it? Woke up to a visibility of about 20 metres, a dense wet fog soaking everything in sight, adding to the overall grogginess that life on wheels inherently provides. There was also a really strange noise close by, which ended up being couple of very loud seals hanging out and playing games in the marina much to the audiences appreciation. Those things are WELL LOUD!
Onwards through Pendleton Marine Corps Base, which is the route that avoids the interstate and is pinch-yourself reminiscent of a real life The Expendables. You’re cycling through and suddenly there’s 20 soldiers on exercise walking out of the bushes with camo paint and huge machine guns, hummers flying past to get somewhere urgently, and Black Hawn helicopters overhead. An ace days riding which eventually lead to camping at the Doheny State Beach campsite in an ants nest (again).
Day 123: Dana Point to Sunset Beach, CA (30 miles)
Looking on the map, today would involve going through super affluent areas in Orange County. Often this makes everything tricky. Sometimes security is abound, there’s stuffiness in spades, and it’s like a oversized Range Rover slalom. But there’s also generosity, and in this case a waitress from RJ’s cafe, who epitomises awesome. Finishing breakfast and finding that the bill’s been unexpectedly set as ‘Birthday Meal – Free’? Priceless. (For some reason this blog entry is full of puns.) It was a random act of kindness that put a smile on my face all day, so thanks Marina!
After that it was a quick and easy ride over some rolling hills to Laguna Beach, which provided a close call with, yep, a Range Rover pulling out and a driver who looked far too young to drive. I was pretty keen to make speedy progress from then on so pedalled on through Newport and Huntington Beach, ending up at Sunset Beach, where I spent the next full day prepping for the following days and chatting to Jack from Maine, who was bitten by a Brown Recluse Spider and was hospitalised for a week as they tried to reduce the swelling on his face. Damn.
Day 125: Sunset Beach to Pasadena, CA (38 miles)
Laguna Beach had been busy traffic-wise, but it was nothing compared to Los Angeles, in particular the stretch from Long Beach to Monterey Park. By ‘eck, it’s certainly a driving city and they don’t make it easy for cycling. Stop and start at traffic lights, in and out of buses, keep your wits about you and move your eyes like a madman. What was quite weird was that happened for a good twenty or so miles, and then just stopped. That’s the grid nature of the LA street plan at play I suppose. From then on it was quiet suburbia, and there were even some really nice cycle lanes.
Day 126: Pasadena, CA
Had an amazing day on the set of a new pilot with Ruben Fleischer, director of films such as Gangster Squad and Zombieland (plus some killer shorts), and loads of other talented folks. There’ll be more on this in future posts, but it was a great day with great people. Ruben’s testament to the fact that paths are changing, in large part due to the web – and you don’t need to follow the route that has classically been instilled in us. Moving away from a metaphor, what I mean is he didn’t go to film school. He started making stuff, working his way up from the bottom and was damn persistent. It’s a lesson that anyone can apply to anything. It worked, clearly, because now he directs films with some chap named Gosling in them. I was keen to explore his route and his battles with ‘the struggle’, and his response was super inspiring and took him back to the early days. Here’s a very brief transcript before I get chance to sit down and edit the content from the day.:
“When I was struggling, and I was so stressed and freaking out, and I felt like I was just muscling everything through, everything was through the force of will, and nothing was given to me, I had to fight for every single thing. I was broke and I was, like, just bummed and frustrated, and so ambitious, but it doesn’t happen overnight. So many people that were more veteran than me, were just like ‘Dude, just cherish these moments, because it’s never going to be like this again, and you’re doing cool shit, just appreciate everything that you’re doing in the moment, because whether you make it or not, you’re doing it. You’re trying, you’re having fun, you’re making stuff that you believe in. Cherish it, and try not to get so caught up on the future, and just appreciate the present.’ And that’s a really hard thing to say when you’re so focused on the destination, but it was great advice and I probably didn’t take it. At all. But now looking back, I look back on those times of finding it, and the struggle, so fondly.”
Day 127: Pasadena, CA
Still buzzing from yesterday, today was spent sorting out the next couple of days. To sum up it basically involved coffee and typing (hardly makes for exciting writing). Stayed with the wonderful, and amazingly hospitable Tracy and Arthur in the Pasadena suburbs. They’re avid cyclists and had a lot of stories to tell: from The Great Divide to Japan – their bikes have taken them to loads of places, and there’s loads more on the list. They cook a mean dinner too!
The next two days will be more LA, and then on Wednesday the journey begins to pick up pace once more. How do you cycle again?
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):
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.
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.
—
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.
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!
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:
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!
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!
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.
— 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!
It’s been a few days since the last blog, so this may turn into a fairly long post – sorry! (But it does involve alligators so all’s good). No interview video in this one and only phone snaps unfortunately but there’ll be plenty more video and photos soon.
Day 22 & 23 – Charleston (commuting miles – not many)
Charleston – it’s a cracking little place. Decided to stay longer than planned for a couple of reasons: 1) It’s ace and a day isn’t enough, and 2) I have an inflammed 5th metatarsal – yep. (Thanks to pals at The Body Rehab for the new lingo and the help!). Apparently this is fairly common when wearing cycling shoes for sustained periods, and can be remedied by standing on a golf ball and scrunching the underside of your foot.
Back to Charleston. There’s plenty to see and do, and it’s very accommodating to cyclists. There’s a lot of ’em wheeling about. All very welcoming, too. One of the downsides to this nomad-like style of living is being too focused on the travelling and missing stuff, so it was enjoyable to stay somewhere long enough to see the difference between night and day, literally. After walking over the bridge in the dark in the last post, I cycled over it a couple of times over these two days. And with an un-loaded bike. Holy smokes – what a difference a lightweight bike makes. You get used to a weighted bike and carrying a load, and then when you remove the weight, it’s feels like NASA’s new rocket. Twitchy and bizarre. Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge life on a weekend is thriving – there’s Marty McFly’s being pulled along on skateboards by dogs, about a million runners and ample cyclists out to get some fresh air.
To sum up the two days, it was typical-tourist really, exploring & chatting to / getting showed around by the locals (Whaddup’ Gabby, Bryan et al!). Good times which involved eating an incredibly unhealthy amount of chicken – always a bonus. I really recommend visiting Charleston if you get chance. Here’s three phone snaps for good measure – bikes, arty and sights:
Day 24 – Charleston – St John’s, SC (31 miles)
After a couple of days of not much cycling and chicken to act as fuel, it was time to head on, with another new state line within a couple of days riding distance. Those little dotted lines provide a boost of motivation.
This project’s now involved over three weeks of cycling, and the tyres on the bike seemed to be a little softer and riding felt more sluggish, so being in Charleston, a cycling hub, what better place to visit a local bike shop and borrow a track pump. Using Affordabike’s pump, I put some air in the front tyre. And then… PSSSSSSSS. Oops, too much. Split inner tube. It was always going to happen, so was good to get puncture #1 out of the way on a stunning day, rather than in the depths of a snowstorm.
After a quick fix the bike was running smoothly again, with much less rolling resitance – although there’s a chance that’s just a placebo effect. After cycling out of the city – the most hassle-free leaving-a-city-on-a-bike process so far – I was soon on the Savannah Highway. By this point it was getting on for 3ish, but I was keen on getting plenty more miles in, so ploughed on for a couple more hours.
As the sun was dropping, and the light was awesome, there was a couple of drivers who screamed past really close. All my lights were on, it couldn’t have been clearer that there was a cyclist on the road. You can be a safe as you like but an unattentive driver is just that. Then there was a sign… No literally, a sign that told of a State Park. I couldn’t hack cycling on a shoulder-less road after those close calls so took the sign as a ‘sign’ and got off that damn Highway, ending up camping behind the St John’s Fire Department just a mile-or-so off the road. It’s quite enjoyable stealth camping with prior approval (thanks St John’s!). Means you can use a headtorch and see what you’re doing which is novel.
The morning after:
Day 25 – St John’s – Hardeeville, SC (68 miles)
Early start and an opportunity to get some early miles in to avoid a similar situation to yesterday evening. The same road that caused frustration mere hours ago, now almost totally quiet, cars travelling by few and far between, the drivers usually decent enough to offer a full lane passing distance.
It’s hot, and it’s the first time on the trip experiencing salt sweats. Not pretty – maybe it’s the Charleston chicken. Imagine a salty waterfall riding a bike and it’d be a close fit. Eventually the route went through Beaufort, where there’s a big US Marine Corps Air Field. On the way there’d been several low flying F-18’s, performing crazy manoeuvres in sets of three, so that explains it.
I ended up in Hardeeville at around 10pm after a great night ride, with quiet roads and wide shoulders. It needed to be a fairly big day to time the next day, and ‘Alligator Alley’ up right. “Son you don’t wanna ride through there after dark – you’ll miss it”.
Day 26 – Hardeeville, SC – Savannah, GA (22 miles)
I’ve been looking forward to this day for a while, for a few reasons. Savannah’s been recommended several times, the route involves cycling through Alligator Alley and it means reaching a new state – Georgia. Visible progress on the map which is encouraging.
(Click on image to open full panorama)
Shortly after leaving Hardeeville, was a turn off onto the infamous ‘Alligator Alley’, which cuts right through the Savannah National Wildlife Refuge, and is so called because from March – October, there’s loads of Alligators hanging out. In December, they’re usually only seen on hot days, like today, c’mon! It’s a short-ish ride, of around 6 miles, through swamp and forest, prime location for wildlife such as deer, wild hogs, a bunch of birds including eagles, and more.
I cycled ridiculously slowly keeping an eye on the water and banks around, hoping to catch a glimpse of a ‘gator. And after travelling about 3 miles, there it was in the creek. Excuse this description, but – so rad. There is an alligator in this photo if you look closely (bear in mind the photo is named ‘crap_alligator_photo’). Couldn’t get closer and travelling light means not carrying a telephoto lens and maxing out the zoom on my phone. But anyway there it was, probably only around 5ft long but an alligator nonetheless. Alligator Alley delivered!
Soon after, crossing the State Line into Georgia, it was a simple and generally flat few miles into Savannah. The next post will be about time spent in Savannah. Here’s a bridge into Savannah and a rough route from Charleston. Looking forward to continuing down the coast to near Brunswick in the next couple of days.
