Okay, so it really wasn't that bad at all. It was actually pretty damn awesome. And empowering. That's what I love about biking, though -- you can go anywhere. As long as your legs are willing to pedal and your mind is down for the ride, you can go anywhere.
Prep for the ride was a little less than ideal. (By a little I mean a lot, and by a lot I mean four-hours-of-Freaks-and-Geeks-three-hours-of-sleep a lot.) Thursday (departure: Friday) was absolutely insane with three final exams and packing. And Wednesday some Fine Print stuff blew up, which absolutely drained me of energy and good feels. My awesome co-editor Sam knew it was killin' me and was so sweet to surprise me at my house with flowers and a bar of excellent dark chocolate, and a proposal to repair everything. I knew I would've just let that fester inside me through my ride, and I wasn't sure what I could do to fix it immediately, but Sam saved the day and well, yeah, thank you incredibly girlfran.
After all my exams were done Thursday, I darted to Earth Origins (nearby natural foods store) five minutes before closing because I needed some nuts. I was just having a conversation with a friend about grocery checkout lines, and he was saying it's funny to see what people buy in the last few minutes before closing because you know these are essentials to them. Like, they need these things otherwise why would they be darting to the store? Well, tonight I needed one pound of almonds and cashews. Desperately. I was convinced they were essentials for the ride. (Spoiler alert: I hauled those all the way to Sarasota not eating but maybe seven of 'em.)
Then Bre + I went over to our friends' place and straight up vegetated and Freaked-and-Geeked. It was good. But then all of a sudden it was 1:21 am and I reminded both myself and Bre that I was indeed to start my 200-mile bike ride tomorrow. True. Okay. Home. Then I managed to spend two hours getting together my life for the next few weeks of break, and then finally hit the hay around 3:00 am.
PACKING LIST
exercise tights/pants (1)
biking shorts (2)
lightweight long underwear + tshirt for sleeping
underwear (1)
socks (3)
protein bars (an excessive 6)
nuts (an excessive 1 lb.)
lightweight 1-person tent
sleeping bag in stuff sack
taser; pepper spray
printed maps
mini first aid ki
disposable camera
phone, charger, earbuds
duct tape
BC powder
aspirin
air-activated heat pads
mini bike repair kit + spare tubes (2)
I woke up to deluge of texts from friends alerting me of Beyoncé's new album that she surprised the world with overnight. HOW COULD SHE DO THIS TO ME? I HAD NO TIME TO DOWNLOAD IT BEFORE MY TOUR AND I WAS TO SPEND THE NEXT LORD-KNOWS-HOW-MANY MILES RIDING IN INSATIABLE CURIOSITY. I had no choice but to distract myself from this sad reality with an epic breakfast instead. Bre champed it out with me for at 8:00 am feast at Bagels&Noodles, which essentially was just tempeh, eggs and Cholula set to the soundtrack of my apprehensive rambles. "I should've definitely slept more last night." "Shit, am I even ready for this?" "Should I be stretching right now?" "What if it rains?" "I should've gotten that solar phone charger, huh?" (I should've gotten the solar phone charger.)
The Breakfast to End All Breakfasts
To be honest, though, I think all the flusteredness I was verbally and physically (via arm flailing and frequent contractions into the fetal position) expressing was out of obligation. I almost felt as if I was too calm about this whole thing and maybe it's actually a bigger deal that I was telling myself it is. Like, the days and weeks and however-longs leading up to the tour, I'd felt entirely collected. I'm pretty confident in my ability to do things and I know my body's capability and my mind's capability, so I was like, yo I got this. Plus, 200 miles is really not that long at all and I'm in Florida and it's unseasonably warm for winter. I GOT THIS.
Way into the country roads I shifted over to some good ol' Avett Brothers. In particular, Gleam I and II, and Emotionalism. And I think those albums were meant to be listened to with a mountainscape, a babbling brook of some configuration, or a herd of cows staring at you like this:
After awhile my phone battery drained to an unstable low, so the rest of my ride that day (4ish hours) was in silence. As was the next day's. Silence was perfectly enjoyable, too. (Although mind you I was still going nuts about Bey.) And more than perfectly enjoyable was the Pub sub that was my first day's lunch.
My first night I spent at Fort Cooper State Park after a 77-mile day. I was super excited to get all cocooned up in my sleeping bag and pass out, but it wasn't so easy. A couple weeks ago my mother called me all concerned about the trip and my safety -- the usual things one might worry about if her daughter were biking through rural Florida. After quickly convincing her that coming with me was every shade of a bad idea ("Mom, it would take literally a week longer" seemed to drive my point home), we settled on her meeting me at Ft. Cooper for that first night. She was stuck in traffic on the way up (Bike:1, Car: 0), so I just set up camp and waited for her. The ranger at the main entrance gave me convoluted directions to the primitive campsite, which was "down the road about a mile, take a right, then you'll see the Invasive Plant Management office and a gate; the gate'll say RESTRICTED ACCESS, but just reach around and unlock it anyway. Go past the mobile home on your left -- that's mine -- and take a left before the end of the road. But don't go all the way to the end to that house. You'll see a sign pointing you to the camping. Follow that." After veering a left at the sign, I walked a little while trying to distinguish each naturally tree-free space from a possible designated camping area. Finally, I got so lazy and so tired, I just decided to interpret "primitive" very liberally and set up camp in a random area just off the main path. Huddled in my tiny tent, writing by flashlight, I had been texting my mom on and off for fifteen-ish minutes. My phone had been at 1% for at least the past hour, so I knew it was gonna be dead soon; I tried to be very direct and specific with my instructions. I knew she was in the vicinity, but she was having trouble finding the right gate. "Lost" was the last text I received from her before my phone was completely out.
Well, shit, now I've got to go find her lest she think I died or whatever else mothers worry about. So I left my tent, phone and flashlight in hand, to search her out. I get to the main gate and passing road and I see a very slow moving car to my left. It looks like it's stop-and-go, so I thought, hey maybe this is someone looking for a certain address; hey maybe this is Nina. The car drives slowly by me as I recognize it as my mother's Subaru. I yell "Nina! Nina! NINA." I flicker and wave my flashlight like a lunatic. Nope, she forges onward. (For those of you reading who know my dear mother, you're probably laughing because this is very Nina of her to do.) From a distance her brake lights looked as if she'd maybe recognized me and paused to think, or perhaps she was still searching for gate entrances. Whatever she was doing, I'd convinced myself I could catch up with her so I began sprinting. I must've run a mile before realizing regardless of how frequently she braked, I wouldn't be able to catch her. So I plodded back to the Invasive Plant Management building, shining my light at the occasional oncoming car just in case Nina'd finally realized the maniacal flickering ten minutes ago was indeed her daughter.
Passing the Invasive Plant Management building on my way to the gate, I thought, hey I bet there's an outlet on the outside of that. I crawled under the wire fence and beelined for a tiny green LED light I noticed in the middle of the wall facing me.
AN OUTLET = ELECTRICITY = PHONE ON = MOTHER = SLEEP.
Excited, I darted back to my tent, grabbed my charger, and did an about-face back to Invasive Plant Mgmt. And on the way there I run into a pair of headlights aimlessly bobbing down the campsite dirt road. Heyyyy, Nina. I hop in her car, inhale the stir fry she brought me, explain to her why I'm so sweaty, hop back out, crawl into tent, go to sleep.
And that was the most trouble I ran into during my entire trip.
The next morning I only had to ride on country roads for a short while before hitting the Florida Trail -- awesome, smooth, shaded, traffic-free, worry-free cyclist/pedestrian trail.
Florida Trail
After a few miles I passed Ruth's Country Kitchen right off the trail. Why yes I did want to chow down on epic eggs, toast and coffee while charging my phone. Thanks, Ruth.
It was a small but packed little place, and very horse-clad. Waiting for my food I counted about 42 horses in my 360 view. The decor ranged from sticker decals to small statues to rustic wooden plaques that read "In our house we just HORSE around," HORSE typographically embellished to ensure no one missed the pun.
The Breakfast to End the Breakfast that Ended All Breakfasts
After prolonging my breakfast and coffee refills to nearly an hour's stay with still zero charge picked up by my phone, I hit the trail again. I had all my directions on printed maps, so all I really wanted my phone for was for emergencies and keeping folks updated along the way. But no worries -- a couple miles later it decided to revive itself.
I'd have to say this second day was my favorite. Though it was the hilliest and windiest, I spent a significant stretch of my 63-mile ride on the Florida/Withlacoochee trail, which was beautiful. Down a ways, an older guy on a recumbent rode up next to me with an abrupt "Where ya goin'? Where ya comin' from?" I later came to know him as Kim and we rode together for about 7 miles. He was burning some serious rubber and was even pushing my pace, an average 11.5-12 mph, up to 13-14 mph. He's an avid cyclist himself; the most he's ever done in a day (albeit on recumbent) was 270 miles. Two-hundred and seventy miles.
TWO. HUNDRED. AND. SEVENTY. MILES. IN. ONE. DAY.
This dwarfed my entire trip and gave me motivation well beyond the seven miles we rode together. It was nice to have someone to talk to. His job is basically to travel around Florida and film bike trails and review them. He also owns some laser engraving shop that moves huge orders through Amazon. You know, like things that say your name, "MOM," "DAD," "I ♥ something-or-other." I asked him what the strangest order he's gotten was and he recalled for a period of time there being tons and tons of "I ♥ Jenni" orders. Tons. And then he said in the earlier years of business, he used to get a lot of "I ♥ Bob, Katherine, etc." orders. Now he's seeing stuff like "I ♥ Dick." "Filled a couple the other day for 'I ♥ Nipples.'" He concluded that conversation with his observation of the changing times. Yes, indeed. He asked me about my life, what I'm studying, what I want to do, etc. When I'd told him a decent dosage of what all I'm interested in, things I want to do, places I want to go, he told me, "Hey, don't get married. And don't have any kids. And just do it all." Duly noted, with a few grains of salt. But, YEAH GO BEING SINGLE.
Here's more from the Withlacoochee Trail:
And the rest of the way to Tampa looked a little like this:
My friend Elizabeth picked me up in north Tampa so I wouldn't have to weave my way through the ugly city to her house in South Tampa. We ended up meeting in the parking lot of a Boston Market, and about a mile out from there, I was so excited I wasn't even tired. I was biking so fast. And while legs of the trip were otherwise filled with wildly miscellaneous thought, entertaining hypothetical situations, things future, and things past, I swear for that last leg my brain was just rattling around an infinitely scrolling marquee of:ELIZABETHELIZABETHELIZABETHELIZABETHELIZABETH.
And then as soon as we met up and she mentioned something about pumpkin sage mac+cheese leftovers at her house I was all:
MACNCHEESEMACNCHEESEMACNCHEESEMACNCHEESE.
The original plan was for me to sleep at her place and bolt down to Sarasota first thing in the morning, but then my mother told me she was in South Tampa for a workshop and she wanted to pick me up to bring me to my godmother's Christmas party that night. A sort of family tradition, this was the last year I'd be able to attend, so I obliged and waited for her at Elizabeth's. The couple hours I was at her house, though, I'm pretty sure we just ate, ate and ate, and then proceeded to lay prostrate on her cool tile floor. That was the best. Morales Family, thank you for welcoming me into your cozy home and your impeccably stocked fridge. Highlight of the feast was the portabella we sautéed -- it was literally larger than my face.
Though I will always consider Sarasota home, my mother moved to a tiny lil' town called Wimauma (between Sarasota and Tampa) after I'd headed off to college. This is where the party was, too, so we drove down there, which cut about 20 miles from my next day's ride. Worked out just as well because I'd gotten a call on Friday so politely reminding me my "2:00 hair appointment on Sunday. See you then!" Sure, Aveda, see you then. This was a hair appointment Nina had apparently made me. Very considerate of her, but that meant I was going to have to haul ass down there to make it in time. I was originally planning on arriving around 4:00 pm. But anyways, everything worked out a-ok in the end, so not going to dive into detail there.
It was actually hugely luxurious to be able to stop at home on the way down to Sarasota. I was able to free myself of my tent and sleeping bag, and with that weight gone I felt like I was flying. Starting from Wimauma, I only had 50 miles to the end. Oh! And also hugely luxurious was being able to download the new Beyoncé ; I waited till I hit the road to start listening. It was hard to control myself. I was already two days behind the rest of the world. *melodramatic sigh*
So, okay: Sunday morning now. Day Three. Last day. A family friend at the Christmas party recommended those PowerGel energy pack things, which I'd always been skeptical of, but she swore by them and gave me two to try out. It had been raining all morning but finally stopped around 9 and I was on my way around 9:30 am. Scooted off just past the edge of the road's shoulder, I plugged in my earbuds and teased the gel pack. As I expected, the viscous clear slime oozed out and suctioned back in. It was what I imagined cellulite would look like if it were outside the body, just like chillin on a table or something.
Ew. Ok sorry that was absolutely disgusting.
Anyway, gulped that down and started Beyoncé . I was going so, so fast and feeling so, so good. My average speed for that day's ride was around 16 mph and I attribute that to a few things: 1) Bey 2) The fact that I had to be in Sarasota by 2:00 3) PowerGel 4) lightened load having ditched my sleeping bag and tent, and 5) pure excitement.
Going over the bridge into Bradenton was thrilling. (Yes, "Bradenton" and "thrilling" were just used in the same sentence.)
Going through Bradenton, however, not so much. I spent 4-5 miles on sidewalk dodging odd puddles of street sludge, utility poles, and meandering pedestrians who actually belonged on the sidewalk. Plus Bradenton itself is a scenic atrocity. It's dilapidated strip mall after strip mall, car dealerships piled atop Bob Evans...it's depressing.
Sarasota County welcomed me with a generous bike lane on US-41 and I had lanes for the rest of the ride after that. Luxury. A+.
Biking through downtown -- an area very familiar and nostalgic to me -- was amazing. I knew exactly where I was and wouldn't have rather been anywhere else. But as it happened, my hair appointment was in 15 minutes so I put on a hustle and biked a little faster. And dang am I proud to say I made it just in time. Five minutes early, actually.
I sat down in the salon chair and I was just real straight up with Jaqueline: "Hey, I'm really sorry my hair might be sweaty. I mean, it is sweaty. Sorry. I was just biking a long way and I had to come directly here."
She was super chill about it and found my story pretty amusing once I explained everything to her. I let down my hair from the bun it was in and got really self-conscious when I realized it was still wet from this morning's shower. She probably assumed it was sweat; I made sure she knew it wasn't. But ok, having someone lather up your hair and give your scalp a solid massage is definitely one of the best ways to end a ride.
And the next hour was awesome. One of my best friends, T.T., was leaving for vacation in China that day and according to my original itinerary, I'd miss her. But now that I'd gotten into town earlier, hey, maybe she was still around. I texted her and told her to come to the salon if she hadn't left town yet. She and her family were just on their way out, as it turned out, and she said she'd swing by. A couple minutes later, her face poked its way into my mirror's view. HOW COOL. We hugged a few times, I smooched her face hard, and I think I was too overwhelmed with emotions to actually form any sentences, but there were words said. I don't recall any of 'em though. An I-love-you, maybe? Oh yeah, and I reminded her to stretch on the plane. Good, good.
So ten minutes after T.T. peaced, I was spun around in the chair to see one of my absolute favorite teachers from high school checking out at the counter. I quickly morphed out of Grudge mode, clearing all the hair from my face so Roma might recognize me. Yup. There she was the beautiful, most wonderful Roma Jagdish. She was so surprised, came over and we chatted a bit. And because I was only in town for a day, we decided to grab coffee right after my hair was done. We tried our best to catch each other up on the past three years in the hour or so we talked. I missed her so much. When things like this happen (and when I run into my other favorite high school in the middle of Maine during a spontaneous weekend getaway from NYC, Summer 2013), I can't help but think there's some kind of orbit effect in place with the people you care about. I believe if you really care about someone and genuinely want to keep them close to you, you will. There's a magnetic attraction that pulls you back together somehow. Sounds New-Agey, I know. But hey.
Ok also check out how hilarious this picture is (hilarious in the way girls who wear make-up to the gym are hilarious). I stopped by my mom's friends' place and they snapped the pic:
As if I weren't feeling on top of the world enough already, I stopped by Sunni Bunni (local frozen yogurt place I used to way-too-frequent in high school) for some refueling and as soon as I sat down with my yogurt, "Love On Top" came on. DANG. That day couldn't have gotten any better, until it did.
Jillian herself wasn't home for break yet, but her family was all there. Original plans were to surprise my mother for her birthday that day by taking her out to a nice dinner, but she requested to reschedule for the following day. She my momma and my birthday girl, so that was all fine by me. And again, let me clarify why I insisted on riding to Sarasota even though my home is now technically in Wimauma. I rode to Sarasota because I wanted to ride home. And I will always consider Sarasota my home. My memories live here and they will never relocate.
It was awesome to see Jill's family again. I get really excitable when I'm around her, her mom, dad, brother, and sister. And dog (shout out to Hunter living the real blind dachshund struggle). They're all super. That evening I kept trying to relax, lay down, do something so mundane as check my email, but I just couldn't! I could not stay still. I'd sit for thirty seconds then find myself up and pacing around again. Maybe I just had excess energy/happy. Something like that. I didn't mind.
The next morning Mike, Jill's brother, and I went for a bike ride on the absolutely gorgeous day that the 16th was. I was incredibly fortunate to have such benevolent weather my entire trip, come to think of it. We're in a super mild winter as it is, but I didn't even get caught in a drop of rain. Also no flats or bike trouble. Lucked out hard.
And that pretty much wraps it up. My first tour, short as it was, went as smoothly as it possibly could've. I'm still hanging out with residual good feels from it. It was incredible and so easy; honestly, every time I hear something along the lines of "Whoa I can't believe you did that!" I'm like, yo it's not hard you can do it, too. More mental strength than physical, I'd say. Maybe you want to try it out sometime? Or, shoot, just hop on your bike and pedal around anyways. Endorphins. Good stuff.
And hang with me just a sec 'cause I want to thank/re-thank a few folks before ending this novella of a post. Thank you ma for not worrying too much. Mayer family -- y'all rock. Elizabeth + fam, thank you much. Maureen, David, John -- thanks again for your gifts. I definitely could not have done this or any trip without the panniers, handlebar bag or toolkit. Thanks Eric for the dollas to buy myself a helmet. Thanks to my girl Bre for the send-off and love for the road, and to everyone else for their support. And to Ali, a new friend who sat with me and gave me some solid advice for the ride, and touring in general; Good luck biking The Great Divide this summer, girlfran. Also thank you everyone who drove by me and gave me a little extra wiggle room. Pretty sure I dedicated a personal thank-you-thought to every car that did throughout the ride.
Shout out to my left pinky finger, too. Pinched a nerve while riding and it's been numb 'n tingly ever since. 7 days and still going strong, baby.