Fwd: L knee

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: david merwin <magiciansm@gmail.com>
Date: Tue, 7 Feb 2012 11:08:34 -0500
Subject: L knee
To: Kenneth Polidan <kenpolidan@gmail.com>, Kirk Doug
<dgkirk52@gmail.com>, "Hughes, Doug" <doughughes@whcspc.com>

Been to orthopedist and had x-ray. Bad knee (right) very arthritic (no
surprise) good knee(left) minimal arthritis. MRI tomorrow morning. Back
to orthopedist 2/16. Likely diagnosis left torn medial meniscus. If a
bad/big tear no Alabama/Flo and schedule scoping. If minimal tear
Cortisone injection and see how I feel with option to go to Ala/Flo and
have scope on my return from Ala/Flo.

Just to keep you posted.
Dave

Sorry if I sent this twice but thought I sent it and then found it in my
"draft" file.

Blog 4/24/10 Now What?

As the pictures show,  we finished the ride today.    What they don't show is that we had to drag the bikes across a hundred yards of beach at Anastasia State Park  east of St Augustine to complete the ceremonial dipping of the wheels in the Atlantic.  Good thing all the 3100-odd miles in between here and the Pacific were paved!

I got a nasty surprise riding along the potato fields this morning--a bee stung me.   Apparently it alit between my inner thigh and the nose of the bike saddle and didn't take very kindly to my thigh slogging up and down in its personal space.  Anyway,  that's pretty close to some very tender territory so it sure got my attention.  And the spot that got stung rubbed the saddle the rest of the ride!  Ouch!

Only 45 flat miles to get here today,  plus around 10 more looking around.   St Augustine is the oldest town in the USA, and is quite a tourist destination--the town even more than the beach.   Think of the Village of Saugatuck multipled by fifty or so for the town,  and Oval Beach multiplied by 100 for the island, which is really a big, long, protective sandbar--accessed by a big drawbridge.  Art galleries, boutique stores and fancy restaurants line the narrow old brick streets,  and tour trains,  horse-and-buggies and rental scooters, vie for space with cars and motorcycles.   Bicycles are the fastest mode of transportation for sure,  even with loaded panniers.   We scrounged up a decent motel room on the edge of the historic district that overlooks the Matanzas River that flows between the town and the island.

How touristy is it?  A fake pirate ship plies the river carrying tourists.  It causes the drawbridge to rise every hour or so,  further congesting traffic on both sides.   And the occasional pirate or soldier wanders the street authentically dressed and with his musket shouldered.  There's a Harley-Davidson store on a pedestrian mall--no vehicles allowed.

How do I feel about having completed the trip?  Good question.   I'm proud.  My mind is much more prepared to keep going than my legs, so I guess I'm physically exhausted but not at all emotionally or psychologically used up,  which I think is mostly due to having a great partner to share the miles with.   If I had done the ride alone,  it would have been much harder.

A few days back I said that the journey is what matters, not the destination, and now that we have arrived,  the truth of this is even more apparent.   Over dinner,  Kathy and I were talking about where we might go next...but first we have to ride up to Jacksonville and catch a train home.

Doug

P. S.
Some random thoughts:  Haven't seen any real gators, and only two live snakes.  Southern squirrels are small with wimpy tails.   As a species,  egrets are doing just fine.  Too bad Spanish moss and azaleas don't grow up north.    Obesity is at least as big a problem in the south,  and it seems more people smoke here.   Southern roads are in much better shape than northern roads.  In general,  southern drivers are more polite to cyclists--except for the cretins driving wood-pulp hauling trucks. I would really like to know the percentage of people who undertake this ride that finish.   Besides this being harder than I imagined (and most of you know that Kathy and I are hard core,  seasoned riders),  so much has to go right--accidents,  illness, dogs horrible weather, mechanical problems etc.  could easily put a premature end to the fun.   It takes a lot of stamina to do this.   A good dose of luck too.

Day 42 Taking a dip at St Augustine Beach...we did it!

Day 42 Rode by scads of potato fields in St. Johns County.

Day 42 Gator Country!

Blog 4/23/10 Sampling the Local Flavors

I wrote yesterday's blog before we went to dinner with Kathy's childhood friends--David & Carol.  She lives near Gainesville and he lives in South Carolina,  By sheer chance he has also been biking a similar route across the country.  We've been chasing him the whole way and the only reason we caught him is that he has taken more days off.  Carol took us all to a wonderful vegetarian restaurant and amazingly our waiter (who overheard our conversation) told us he biked across the USA--on a more northerly route--last summer.  Small world!  But Gainesville is full of cyclists.  Never seen as many anywhere in the USA.

Our hosts at the B & B fed us quiche and 'southwest potatoes' for breakfast so we left well-fueled,  We spent the first 15 miles on a paved bike trail, mostly under a canopy of trees and Spanish moss. It added an easy 20 miles to the trip, but sure was worth it.  The rest of the ride was just OK--a bit of cross wind, a lot of sunshine, a kind of busy road with a kind of lousy shoulder
(by our now-elevated standards) that led us to our penultimate stop here in Palatka, FL, where the contents of our panniers have exploded--as they do every evening--on to the spare bed in our room at the Quality Inn on the banks of the St Johns River.  The river separates us from much smaller East Palatka, is about 1/2 a mile wide and could easily accommodate some mighty big boats judging by the height of the bridge we'll be riding over in the morning.  Palatka itself is noteworthy for having lots of nice murals on walls downtown.  It must also have a Wal-Mart somewhere since half the storefronts are empty.

After a relatively easy 60 miles today, we have a paltry 40 miles to St Augustine in the morning, though I'm sure we'll do a few extra looking around, riding up and down the beach, and generally reveling in reaching our goal.  Kathy wonders what emotions we'll feel.  I just expect a sense of accomplishment.  Riding the bike has become my job these last 6 weeks, and I--we--have ridden as well as we know how.  I can'r really imagine how we could have done it any faster--unless we got some tailwind.  We've only run into one guy who was making better time than we have.  Fred did it in half the time, which, as our energy has flagged these last few days, seems even more incredible than before.  Lots of people are taking a good bit longer.  Today we came across a couple from Missouri who are riding from St Augustine to Oregon.  They plan on four months since they are camping and have their 2- and 4-year olds in a trailer behind the bike he pedals. She hauls the camping gear.

Our trip won't be over tomorrow--we still have to get up to the Amtrak station forty miles north in Jacksonville, then it's a two-day train ride home--via Washington DC.  Our train leaves Monday afternoon.  Frankly I suspect these next few days will drag by pretty slowly for me.  Plenty of things to do at home... But we both just hate the way airlines treat people nowadays, so instead we'll have fun Monday morning finding our way to the Amtrak station and I'll cool my heels ( and rest my legs) in a sleeper car for a while.

Dinner choices were limited tonight, but I did find a 50s-style cafe.  We ordered some sweet-potato fries for an appetizer, and they were served with cinnamon-margarine!  The waitress promised a bowl of fresh fruit, but it looked--and tasted--canned.  When we brought this to her attention, she politely told us that is really was fresh fruit, they cut it up every morning, then the cook adds two cups (!) of sugar to it.  A similar application also adorned the cole slaw.  For dessert, I ordered a 'Buster Brown,' which the menu described as a brownie with ice cream and chocolate syrup.  It arrived with about half a can of Dream Whip on top, even hiding the marachino cherry.  As I scooped it all off, the waitress admonished me for scraping off 'the best part.'  After all this, maybe I'll have to break down and try some seafood--the real local cuisine!!

Our motel is overflowing with bass fishermen.  Tomorrow is Saturday and apparently there's a tournament here.  The parking lot is choked with lots of fancy big pick-ups and racy looking boats with enormous outboards on the back and trolling motors on the front.  Every one of these set-ups has to be worth over $100,000, and their owners, good ol' boys all, hang around in the parking lot and the lobby, smoking cigarettes and no doubt telling fish stories.  They're obviously having a great time.  So are we.  Must be these guys have done better in the stock market than we have, or maybe they figure they're going to die of lung cancer pretty soon anyway.  To each his own!!

Doug

Day 41 We are seriously out-numbered by tournament fishermen at our motel tonight.

Day 41 Doug singing his heart out at the City Diner in Palatka. The song...Desperado!

Day 41 Hawthorne Trail south of Gainesville

Blog--4/22/10 Southern Livin

We are at the Camellia Rose Inn,   B & B in the historic district of Gainesville, just east of downtown and just north of the Univ of Florida campus.

To say that life is good doesn't begin to cover matters sufficiently.   I'm sitting on an enornmous front porch,  glass of wine beside me,  listening to the fountain burble in the front yard,  looking out at the the big,  old trees that line the street with Spanish moss hanging down,  the picket fence along the sidewalk,  and the potted flowering plants hanging from overhead.   It's about 80, the sun's shining, and there's a gentle breeze.   Kathy might post a picture of the place if she gets tired of oohing and aahing.  Upstairs,  our room--with 14 foot ceilings--has a porch of its own and a shower with 5 shower heads!

This is a VERY bike-friendly community,  with bike lanes aplenty, and the locals pedal past my veranda regularly, many looking as tho they ride quite a few miles.

Hah! What do they know about big miles?  Not much,  I'm here to say.   On the other hand,  they could whip my sorry,  tired butt even if they left one leg on the couch.

We are definitely ready to spend a few, or maybe quite a few,  days off the bike.  And tho it sounds contrary, we are ready to ride a nice,  LIGHT racing bike again.   But both desires have to wait a bit.  We have about 95 miles to go.  We, plan to do it in two days to let the trip wind down mileage wise both psychologically and because we are getting tired.   We both notice that the first 50 miles or so go by very nicely every day but the miles seem to get a lot longer after that.

Another lovely ride today,  with purple wildflowers, tunnels of trees to ride under, and blessedly flat terrain.  Neither one of us can imagine doing this trip east to west and having all that climbing at the end.   At this point we see the ramp to a bridge over the freeway as a major obstacle!

A friend of Kathy's and his sister, who has a farm outside town,  will pick us up soon and we will go to a vegan restaurant for dinner.   Our hostess promises a southwestern quiche for breakfast.   No food problems for a while!  Another point about eating on the road as we have--if we were eating really good 'training table' food the whole trip,  we would be leaner,  and likely stronger, than we are.   Hard to imagine how much fat I have consumed via whole milk,  butter,  fake butter,  etc.  along the way.   And it is even worse, imagining how much trash we have created via fast food containers,  plastic forks,  bags...

Well,  I guess all this is just more reasons why a trip like this isn't for the faint of heart!  But it does detract a bit from the hey-buddy-you-earned-this feeling I enjoy sitting on the porch here in Gainesville as thirty or so bike-racer dudes buzz by heading out for their Thursday night group ride. I suppose they think they're tough.   We've learned a lot about toughness the last few weeks.

Doug

Blog--4/21/10 On the Banks of the Suwannee

After another 80 miles, thankfully with some gentle TAILWIND, we are very pleasantly billeted at the Telford Hotel in White Springs,  FL, on the banks on the Suwannee River,  the very river Stephen Foster immortalized in song.  And indeed it is very beautiful.   I hope the pictures Kathy posts give an idea.

Our hotel proprietors tell us that most of their guests are there to canoe or kayak, and it sure looks like fun to me.  I haven't said anything yet about the Spanish Moss, which hangs from most of the big old trees like some sort of beard and becomes more and more plentiful and charming as we go.   Again, Kathy's pictures should give an idea but cannot hope to give the full depth of beauty.  Sometimes we see it hanging from the power lines!

Today's ride was relatively uneventful, although from our point of view tailwind is a big event,  and more is forecast for tomorrow!

Unfortunately, White Springs had no decent restaurant options,  so we foraged in the convenience store.  Our dinner consisted of English muffins with cottage cheese, a pint of Newcastle ale,  potato chips, vegetable juice, cashews, popcorn,  and chocolate chip cookies. Lunch,  also at a convenience store,  was no better.   Good thing our breakfast at the B & B in Monticello this morning was fit for a king.

Speaking of food,  various people have wondered how eating vegetarian works out travelling thru all these small towns.   Breakfast is never a problem but convenience store eating is really limited for decent,  healthy food.   And often smaller restaurants have virtually nothing vegetarian.  So I have eaten 3 or 4 BLT sandwiches,  some slices of pepperoni pizza and some tuna here and there.  And I am pretty certain that the refried beans in the maybe two dozen Mexican restaurants we've tried have a good-sized dollop of lard in them.  What we really miss is high quality, well prepared food. When we get some,  like at breakfast this morning, we really eat it up.

2948 miles done,  around 180 to go,  which we plan to do in three days--all hopefully dry and wind-aided!

Doug

Day 39 Our hotel in White Springs

Day 39 Doug's dream house on the banks of the Suwannee River

Day 39 Doug by the Suwannee River

Day 38 Benito's Burritos in Tallahassee

Monticello b and b

Day 37 This is true for our trip, too!

Blog 4/20/10--Serendipity

We rolled out of Chatahootchee this morning through another lovely neighborhood, then rode great side roads most of the way to Tallahassee, stopping briefly for a smoothie and muffin in the town square of yet another town full of beautiful old homes, Quincy.  It's hard to believe how many mansions there are in these parts, and how big, beautiful and well-maintained they are.  The guy at the coffee shop in Quincy said that quite a few of them are owned by people who got rich years ago buying Coca Cola stock!!

 

Even though we hit Tallahassee around noon, traffic wasn't all that bad, and the route took us near Florida State University.  The atmosphere was very cool, much like Ann Arbor or East Lansing.  We stopped in a very laid back bike shop on the route to borrow a floor pump and the proprietor, Scott, pointed us to Benito's Burritos for lunch.  Once again, the wisdom of asking the locals--and of picking the right kind of local to ask--was born out.  Great grub, customers ranging from students to guys in suits, menu on a chalkboard (see Kathy's pic), and the building painted in various bright pastel colors.

 

The route took us on a 20 mile diversion after lunch.  We entered Tallahassee on US 90 and we finished the day 25 miles east in Monticello, also on US 90, but the route took us 45 miles to get here--first taking us10 miles due south on a railroad bed turned into a bike path, then down a bunch of nice country roads.  Along the way TWO remarkable things happened.  First, the wind swung around to the southwest, giving us some actual TAILWIND.  Second, this was very shortly followed by our first real rain of the entire trip.  We arrived in Monticello soaked and cold.  From the outside, the only motel in town brought back memories of the one in Simmisport we had to depart due to bugs and filth, so we went to a B & B we saw, but no one was home.  We saw a sign for another B & B, and at first no one was there either, then a big van drove up pulling a trailer full of kayaks.  It was a tour group and they had the entire B & B rented, but they knew the proprietor had another B & B, and before long not only were we set up in an otherwise empty big old home full of antique furniture eight blocks away, the tour guide had told us to come back at 7:00 and join them for dinner!!!!!

 

This is exactly the sort of thing that makes trips like this so wonderful--lucking into the most amazing good fortune.  Here we are, wet and cold, wondering where we'er going to stay, striking out our forst two tried, then we happen onto some great people who go out of their way to take wonderful care of us!  Other examples along the way that spring right to this tired mind include Ernie at Check Point Harley, the McCrackens in Los Cruces, St Francisville and Kate at DeFuniak Springs.  Tonight we had beer/wine, stromboli, salad, ziti, and peach pie--all on the house, so to speak, with 11 kayakers and their guides for company!!! 

 

One not so happy point I observe here in Flroida even more than the other deep-southern states is that in virtually every town the delineation between the haves and the haves-nots is so readily apparent--the houses are either lookiong fine or they are in really bad shape.  And I needn't go knock on the door to see whether the occupant's race has much to do with it.  This difference tends to be much less distinct in the country, but in town it is pretty hard to miss.

 

Despite the above, I still have to comment on just how many beautiful little towns we've ridden through here in the Florida panhandle.  I had no idea...I guess I thought all of Florida was populated by folks who moved down from up north, but no, these towns are full of people with deep and long southern heritages.

 

We've ridden about 2700 miles now in 5 and a half weeks and plan to make St Augustine Saturday.  I have to be the luckiest guy on earth to have a wife who not thinks doing this is a great idea, but rides at least as well and as strong as I do, puts up with me, and does our laundry every day.  We both agree that we would be unlikely to undertake a trip like this all alone, and that we are for sure having more fun than we would if were were hooked up with a group of riders. 

 

Doug

Day 36 Hotel DeFuniak

Day 36 We're on a local tour route...woo hoo!

Day 36 Beautiful, bucolic (after the 2 dozen stop signs) Blackwater Trail

Blog--4/19/10 "All Muscled Up"

That's what the lady at the roadside stand selling boiled peanuts said to explain to her 11ish year old daughter why we can bike across the country--cuz we are all muscled up.  Since it was 85 miles into the day and I felt pretty used up, weak and achy, it seemed a bit off the mark!

Another 90 miles, today, gently rolling mostly,  mild headwind all day.   Should have been a few less miles but I missed a turn and we rode about 3 miles before I figured it out and backtracked.  Spent most of the day on US 90.  We are holed up in Chatahoochee,  on Lake Seminole and a mile from the Georgia state line.   In general we find the FL panhandle to be full of nice towns and nice people,  and the standard of living is higher than MS or AL.  For sure the roads are better, too.

A commenter asks how we deal with common biking problems, like saddle sores and hot feet and numb hands.   Here's our bit old folk medicine:  hot foot is really an irritated nerve and to prevent it, we use shoes with very INflexible soles and mount the cleats so that the pedal axle is at least half an inch behind the ball of the foot.   Also,  I take my shoes off anytime we are going to be stopped a while.   Numb hands-- no cure,  we just use several hand positions and good cork bar tape.  The only handlebar for long rides are drop-style take bars,  since they offer more hand positions.   Sore crotch--we stand up a lot!  Curse the saddle!!  Don't be afraid to adjust the tilt.  Go buy another saddle, (I've had dozens over the years).  We both swear by Bag Balm to prevent chafing.   It's cheap and it works.  Saddle sore--there's more than one kind, but usually they are inflamed hair follicles or clogged pores.   Right after the ride,  when they are red and angry,  I shower and wash thoroughly (also the best preventative) then sterilize a needle with heat or alcohol and pop it.  I squeeze out all the blood and crud then rub antibiotic ointment into it. Do it ASAP after the ride to give max healing and things should be much better in the morning. Whew!!  Cleanliness is next to Godliness in the crotch department.  We get out of our shorts as soon as we can and wash them after every ride.

Another writer asks about costs.   Staying in motels or B & Bs, as we do,  lodging is the big cost,  $50 - $80 per day,  more in big cities, or tourist traps.  Camping would lower this dramatically,  but the added weight would make the trip take longer.   Food-wise,  we have changed our approach as the trip has progressed and we've tired of diner food.  We are buying more food in grocery stores.  Cereal,  fruit & milk and we are all set for breakfast even if the motel has no continental breakfast.  Most motel rooms have mini-fridges and microwaves and you can use the water glasses for bowls.   Grab some plastic knives,  forks and spoons and you have lots of choices,  especially in the frozen food section.

    We do generally stop around 30 miles in at a cafe,  if possible,  for a second breakfast.   Lunches are eclectic--convenience store stuff,  Mexican cafe or Subway are best bets,  but ALWAYS ask locals for suggestions.   We got a great lunch recommendation from a chatty mailman today in Marianna.  So we figure it is costing the two of us $100 to 125 per day, but camping and buying all food at grocery stores would keep it well under 50 per day.  Bike expenses have been nil--new tires and chains before we left and a couple of extra, innertubes.

Another commenter asks if I'm planning on writing a book about the trip.   Nope,  but if anyone knows of a publisher that might be interested in a bike-racing themes novel,  I have one ready to go.

Doug

Blog 4/18/10 Big Surprises

Yes, we had a couple of wonderful surprises today, but first, the numbers.  We rode about 90 miles today, from Pensacola to De Funiak Springs, FL.  Total mileage is 2683 for 36 days including four rest days.  More headwind today, but another beautiful day, pretty much a carbon copy of so many others.  The wind wasn't quite as strong as usual, a nice change.

Heading east out of Pensacola, we went through a beautiful old neighborhood full of great big magnolia trees and majestic, big houses with terrific porches.  We thought we were seeing the classiest homes in town until our route took us up some bluffs overlooking the Gulf east of town.  We're talking some of the biggest, fanciest homes we've ever seen here, some with Rolls Royces parked in front.  Who lives in them?

We spent the first 25 miles on US 90, which sounds pretty awful but really wasn't bad at all.  New pavement, nice bike lane, not too much traffic because it parallels I-10.  A bit after we stopped for our second breakfast in Pace, FL, the route turned on to a bike path which was really pretty (and well wind-protected) for 10 miles until we ended up on some very rural side roads for another 30 miles or so of totally bucolic riding with great pavement, and amazingly, no dogs either.  Gently rolling terrain, lots of woods, a few nice farms, and essentially no cars at all.  Really, riding doesn't get much nicer than on those roads.  But eventually the route stuck us back out on US 90 for the last 30 miles or so, though the good pavement and nice shoulder remained.

Our surprises began when we got to De Funiak Springs, which to me at least, is not a particularly preposessing name.  Ws knew there was a motel on the main road coming into town, and it looked pretty cool--50's styling, not a chain, well-manicured outside, what Kathy & I call a Mom & Pop motel--a favorite for us.  But Kathy's nose pulled us on into the middle of town where we found the DeFuniak Inn, which appeared closed, but upon closer inspection not only is open, it is beautiful, with a lovely lady named Kate running the place.  Antiques all over, stained galss window (it was originally a Masonic Hall) and 14 foot ceilings, even on the second floot!!!  AS it turned out, only the attached restaurant was closed ( on Sundays).

Kate told us we simply HAD to go for a walk around the lake just off the highway we'd come in on, and are we ever glad she did.  I fear to think that if we'd stayed at the other motel, we might have missed the south side of town entirely, which would have been a terrible shame because, quite frankly, I think it's even more beautiful than St. Francisville, the town on the Mississippi I was raving about a few days ago.

The story is that a Mr. DeFuniak, who owned the Pensacola and Atlantic Railroad, decided to organize a place for recreation, education and religion back in the 1880s or so, and he picked this spot next to a spring-fed lake--which his railroad conveniently ran right through--to set up a park-like camp.  It's a very nice maybe 20 or 30 acre spring fed lake right next to the meticulously restored train station.  There's a public walkway all the way around the lakeshore, then manicured woods around fifty yards across all the way around, then a street (Circle Drive) running all the way around the woods, and on the other side of the street one drop-dead georgeous post-bellum mansion after another.  Some are just huge.  Most are in great shape.  One big one is for sale.  Kate says it's $1.5 million--in a town of 4,000 souls, and believe me, it would take at least one person working full time to maintain it--probably more than one. Honestly, it's hard to find words to describe how beautiful it is right here.   It's two blocks off the highway and you'd never know if you didn't know to look.

Our hotel has four other cyclists in it tonight, two couples, one from Massachusetts riding from St. Augustine to Baton Rouge, and the other from Arizona doing the same route we are, but on a tandem and a bit more slowly.  They are all retired and roughly our age and it's nice to have a chance to talk with them.  We talk about whats gone right and what's gone wrong and how we've solved problems that come up. 

Seeing them reminds me of all the other people we've seen along the way--hardy souls every one, from Fred the triathlete who did the entire 3100 miles in fifteen days all alone, to the young newlyweds on a recumbent tandem carrying camping gear and their own vegan food so their bike weighed well over 100 lbs and who looked pretty beat up after 1200 miles even though they hadn't hit a single really hard climb yet (traveling east to west).  Any way you look at it, this is a big, big ride, and in some ways the hardest part is waking up each day realizing I have to go spend six or seven hours on the bike.  Somehow, after begin up and about a while, chowing down (and having the sun come up), my feelings turn to anticipation.  Once we're out there, Kathy & I still turn to each other and say something to the effect of "it's great to ba back on the bike again, isn't it?"

Doug

Blog--4/17/10 Let the Good TImes Roll!!!

From the lobby computer of the Marriot on the east side of Pensacola, FL:

 

By cross-country standards, today was practically a Recovery Ride--which back home means riding an hour or an hour and a half pretty slow to help the legs recover from a previous hard effort.  We rode about 85 miles from Bayou La Batre, AL to Pensacola, FL.  Another beautiful day, and for a change the wind decided to take it pretty easy, and also blow from the south rather from the east.

 

But what really helped make it an easy day was that other than riding over three bridges high enough for really, really big ships to fit under, I seriously doubt we climbed/descended more than ten feet total for the day!  Talk about flat--pan flat, flat as a pancake, pick your analogy.  After all the miles we've been doing, my legs let their feelings be known at the slightest hint of an incline, and they liked today a lot!!  Also, Alabama redeemed itself in the bike-lane department.  Once we cleared Bayou La Batre, we had dandy bike lanes just as smooth as a baby's behind all the way to Florida, and Florida did pretty well too.  It was almost as though the powers that be realized "Wow, we have a nationally known bike route coming through here!  We'd better make sure to lay down some good bike lanes."

 

After I wrote last night's blog, I learned that Bayou La Batre was severely decimated by Hurricane Katrina, a fact which wasn't really obvious coming in from the north side like we did yesterday.  But on the way out today we saw clear evidence of unrepaired damage, particularly closed businesses.  We also saw a few boats that had been tossed well inland--into swamp/reeds--then abandoned, left to rot away. 

 

But all that changed the moment we rode onto Dauphin Island, a delightful place full of brown pelicans, rich people, boulevards, palm and pine trees and quite a few (but not all) houses built on stilts.  Most of them are painted in bright pastel shades of pink, lavender, lime green, baby blue, even orange and yellow.  Some have hurricane shutters for the windows, some don't.  They look much prettier than the high rises, believe me!  We savored tasty morsels at a bakery, snapped a few pictures, then hopped on the ferry to ride across Mobile Bay.  Beautiful, calm ride, and we counted at least 10 oil derricks on the water, but thankfully no oil slicks. 

 

Back on land, we rode twenty beautiful miles to Gulf Shores, where we got a big surprise.  We were prepared for things to get more commercial as we neared Pensacola, but Gulf Shores is clearly a big, and I do mean BIG, destination for beach-bound kids of all ages.  Think Saugatuck or South Haven, then multiply by at least 100.  No kidding!!  Not just the beach, but also the shops, the high-rise condos, bars, restaurants, you name it.  But the nice, big bike lane continued, and after pausing for half an hour or so to gawk in utter amazement, we kept on rolling.  Unlike most beach areas, this one has beaches on both sides--the Gulf on one side of the road, and Mobile Bay then Perdido Bay on the other.

 

After about forty miles of beachfront development, we finally rolled into Florida, past more high rises and the big Naval Air Station and into the outskirts of Pensacola.  A few shipyards later, we came to the old, and I do mean OLD, downtown.  The signs claim Pensacola is the oldest settlement in the USA--settled in 1559!  This is a big tourist area, no doubt about it, and the motel prices are two or three times as much as we paid a couple of days ago.  Good thing it has a pool and hot-tub--and a decent computer!

 

One of the inevitable realizations of doing a ride like this is just how big this country of ours really is.  Oddly, that feeling was reinforced today by all those high-rise condos.  It's hard to believe there could be enough people well enough off to own one of these (and interested in doing so) in the whole USA.  Yet I know perfectly well there are dozens, or more probably hundreds, more of them further south in Florida.  Unbelievable!

 

We're in our last state now, with about 520 more miles to go, and about 2600 done. 

Day 35 Final frontier!

Day 35 Doug poses for the beach babes (much to his chagrin, all but one ignore him).

Day 35 Doug and the derrick.

Day 35 Hey - no pedaling for 3 miles!

Day 35 A new concept on Dauphin Island...cruise-in condos.

Day 35 No worries from these two vegetarians!

Day 35 Ready for the next Katrina.

Blog-4/16/10--Up Before the Sun

Our plan was to ride to Dauphin Island today, 120 miles, but we knew we could call it quits at Bayou Le Batre (BI-YO-LE-BAT-RE) at 100 miles, and that's what we did,  for a couple of reasons I will get to shortly.

We knew the wind would come up out of the east again,  and since we had a big day planned, we hit the road as soon as it was light--6:30.  The first 70 or so miles were in Mississippi and generally wooded.  With our early start,  deserted roads,  and trees blocking the early morning breezes,  we had a great morning.  Once again,  so many azaleas--we've seen hundreds of big,  beautiful,  bright pink and red bushes every day for around ten days now.

At around 75 miles we crossed into Alabama,  and our luck ran out.   Not with dogs,  with roads.   Busy roads.   Poorly paved roads.   Heavily traveled roads with no shoulder at all--or with the entire skinny shoulder turned into rumble strips.  And by then the wind was up too so the last 30 miles were no fun.

The last, 20 miles to Dauphin Island looked to be just as busy--and windier since we would be completely out in the open,  so we decided that if we hit the road early again tomorrow, both traffic and wind should be much lighter.

Can't quite see or smell the ocean yet,  but the bayou here is home for lots of fishing trawlers.  Our motel--the only one in town--is a little ways out,  so we had a nearly two mile walk to Pizza Hut, the first place we came to and hardly a first choice.  But along the way we saw several Vietnamese businesses, which reminded me that I read somewhere many Vietnamese refugees settled on the Gulf and that many are fishermen.

We are really looking forward to tomorrow,  and one look at the map shows why.   First we ride down the southwest edge, of Mobile Bay,  then we ride across an enormous bridge to Dauphin Island,  then we take a ferry ride across Mobile Bay,  then we ride, along the Gulf coast, for miles and miles, and cross into Florida.

Food consumption today: bowl of grits, bowl of raisen bran,  bowl of grape nuts, bowl of Kashi cereal, two pieces of toast,  two glasses Orange juice,  one muffin, a banana, yogurt,  half a big bag of chex,mix,  6 inch Subway sub, big Snickers bar, 2 quarts of powerade, small bag of peanuts,  5 pieces of pizza and 5 cinnamon/pizza dough sticks.

Hope to improve the diet tomorrow...

Doug

Day 34 A perfectly good, brand new shoulder ruined by rumble strips!

Day 34 Doug's short cut...yep, that's dirt.

Day 34 Another state line...woo hoo!

Day 34 A little ol' time religion

Day 34 Breakfast at Larue Baptist Church

Blog 4/15/10--Another Day, Another State

from the lobby of the Best Western Motel in Wiggins, MS.

 

Another beautiful day here.  50 this morning, 80 this afternoon, a stray cloud once in a while, and of course, a SE wind that started out light in the morning and became pretty strong by lunchtime--gusting between 15 and 25 or 30 mph all afternoon.  Still, with all the blue sky and mild temperatures, should I complain?  My shoes have barely gotten once wet the whole trip!  Of course I shouldn't whine about the wind, but I do anyway.  We've done the only thing we can--moved up our starting time in the mornings to as soon as it's light enough to be seen in order to get in as many miles as possible before the wind comes up.

 

As we rode back thru Franklinton, LA  from our motel this morning to get back on the route, we noticed something we apparently missed yesterday since the wind was blowing pretty hard when we got there--a really, really bad odor, which our noses connected with fertilizer--or fecal matter, one or the other.  We deduced it was coming from a large factory just north of downtown since it permeated the entire area.  The factory said Cargil on it, so I now have another reason to dislike huge factory-farm enterprises.

 

But the odor did hasten our exit from an otherwise nice, friendly town, and our route once again eschewed the larger, more direct highways in order to send us down barely used country roads--most of which had great pavement despite their very rural nature.  I suspect some of them exist only to aid in the loggers' decimation of the forests, pine trees apparently being the only thing the very sandy soil in southern Louisiana and Mississippi will support.

 

After 25 miles, we came to Bogalusa.  I expected a pretty, old southern town with a bunch of ante-bellum mansions.  Maybe they are there somewhere, but we didn't see them.  Instead we saw an enormous factory which I decided was a paper-pulp manufacturing facility.  It didn't smell all that good either, and I'm afraid that lingering odor followed our noses right to the state line just east of town.

 

Mississippi road commissions seem not to believe in road shoulders, which makes us glad our route again got us off the main highways as much as possible and on to deserted side roads.  I suspect that in all today we did an extra 25 miles zigging and zagging one way or another to stay off main highways as much as possible. 

 

We ended up in Wiggins, MS, a town of around 10,000 right on US 49.  It's actually north of our route about 5 miles, and in order to get here, we rode the five miles on US 49, which is practically a freeway but is graced with shoulders.  We'll be headed back south on it at daybreak tomorow morning with a goal of making it to the Gulf of Mexico at Dauphin Island, tho we may cut it short at Bayou Le Batre.  We ought to be taking a ferry across Mobile Bay and biking through Pennsacola FL Saturday.

 

So far, Mississippi is running very close to Louisiana in the dogs-giving-chase department, and one of our commenters asks our techniques for dealing with them.  In general, the best approach is to ride as silently as possible whenever canine critters might be around in order to be as far down the road as possible when they realize the game's afoot.  If we have a good enough head start, lots of them give up right away or only chase half-heartedly, or at worst, we tire them out before they catch up to us.  After that, we rely on a big, loud, bass voice--mine!!  The louder and lower the voice, the better.  I also do my best to be closer to the dogs than Kathy since I'm bigger and louder and hopefully more scary.  It's all worked so far, and a good thing too, since the next plan is rapid and fervent prayer!  Happily, we've had no problems in the much dreaded dog-chasing-and-it's-steeply-uphill category.  Presumably those dogs have already become fat and lazy munching on other bicylists!  Kathy thinks we ought to use the dogs as sprint-interval workouts, and I'm not surprised since she always beats me in those anyway, she doesn't have to be faster than the dog--just faster than me!!  Besides, I find it's hard to sprint and yell really loud and pray simultaneously.

 

A final few words today about our legs.  The first couple of weeks they felt pretty bad--such a huge increase in mileage, all that climbing, etc. But whether they've adapted of we've gotten used to it, or the pain generators are all worn out, the legs don't hurt so much anymore (the end of the mountains and Texas Hill Country may have something to do with it too).  But what we do find is that any time we try to accelerate very hard--from a dog or a stop light with cars behind us, for example, we get an immediate burning--what cyclists everywhere refer to as the lactic-acid burn.  It aches like crazy for a couple of seconds but then goes away.   Other than that, our legs feel okay in the morning and get pretty darn tired somewhere around 50 or 60 miles every day.  I guess maybe we shouldn't be too surprised about that.

 

Doug

Blog 4/14/10--Lessons

From the Liberty Inn, Franklinton, LA, via Droid

Repetition is the key to learning,  they say.  We, were reminded of a couple of lessons along our 90ish mile slog from beautiful St.  Francisville to Franklinton today.

First,  those, gals we caught up with yesterday really do have it good.   We stopped at a grocery store 15 miles into the ride to buy some food for the day,  and when we came out,  their support van/trailer was set up in the parking lot with a table full of goodies all set up--for them but not for us, I divined from the way their support crew eyed us scroungers.

Second lesson--Dad isn't always right.  He assured me, the other day, that Louisiana is flat as can be.   Not true in these parts.   We rode across the Tunica hills, or at least, some of them,  for at least forty miles.   They aren't all that steep or long,  and they're puny compared to Texas hill country,  but they are most definitely out there and create lots of additional work, especially with our ubiquitous headwind.   But the forests do make a dandy windbreak sometimes--except where they've been clearcut, which is often the case.  This is serious lumbering country.   They do replant, but saplings just don't block much breeze.

We lucked into a bicycling dentist when we got to Franklinton,  Rob Brown,  who told us the name of the Tunica hills and added that we've not seen the last of them.   Rob pointed us to the best motel and yet another great Mexican restaurant too.   And he told us that Louisiana just enacted a law requiring motorists to give cyclists at least three feet of clearance when passing.   I hereby challenge my own bickering Michigan legislature to do likewise.   Fat chance...

The last lesson of the day is the most important by far.   Our route took us through what I have to say is the poorest town of the entire trip,  Tangipahoa.   Even tho no dogs--or people--threatened us at all, our initial emotional response was to be scared and want to get outa town ASAP.   But the lesson was to remember that there is no real corelation between poverty and our personal safety as cyclists passing thru.   In fact,  that kind of fear is,  IMHO, the result of propaganda slickly--and slyly--fed to us by the government and especially the mass media in order to foster a generally fearful and therefore malleable populace that will cowtow when told what to do and, when to do it.  Better to believe in the basic goodness and brotherly love of one's fellow man,  especially where, as here,  churches easily outnumber bars 10, even 20 to 1.  Come to think of it,  there wasn't a bar in that town.

Doug.

Day 32 This conviently placed assortment of snacks is missing on our unsupported tour!

Day 32 It took us 4 1/2 weeks to catch up with these wild women!

Day 31 Doug's futile attempt to loose the biker tan

Day 31 Courtyard of our B&B

Day 31 Kathy dwarfed by Doug's favorite tree in St. Francisville

Day 31 Amazing grounds of the Grace Episcopal Church in St. Francisville

Day 31 In full bloom

Day 31 Doug's hang-out

Blog 4/13/10 Hanging Out In St. Francisville

From the St. Francisville, LA public Library:

 

This is an unbelievably beautiful little--and old--town on the Mississippi River.  Apparently we timed things just right bacause the azaleas are in full bloom, and they are three weeks late this year, I'm told.  Enormous bushes of bright pink and red blooms everywhere one looks.  All the trees are completely leafed out, lots of rose 'bushes' (some should be called 'trees' they're so big) around, and big, beautiful live oaks with spanish moss hanging all over them--some of the gnarliest and coolest trees I've ever seen, with branches splitting off the trunk fifteen or twenty feet off the ground, curving down to touch the earth, then twisting back up into the sky.  While there must be prettier places than this, I can't recall seeing any just now.

 

There's an ante-bellum Grace Episcopal Church that, together with its grounds/cemetary, simply has to be seen to be believed.  I'm not a religious fellow, but between the exterior of the building, the stained glass, the greenery, the flowers and some of the most entertaining tombstones ever, well, it's pretty awe inspiring. 

 

All in all, the town is so pretty we decided to spend our fourth rest day of the trip here.   Besides, we actually accomplished one of our goals here--we caught up with a women-only fully supported tour that left San Diego a week ahead of us.  We've been hearing about them all along, and have been getting input about how far ahead of us they are.  Yesterday afternoon, the gal at a convenience store told us they were only two hours ahead, so we knew then we had them in our sights!  We checked out of our motel this morning to spend today at the B & B where half of them are staying--right in the middle of town, so Kathy has the chance to talk to some biking-oriented women instead of putting up with me 24/7.  Apparently these women are quite pampered, at least by our standards.  A van/trailer hauls their stuff and they have a chef who cooks their meals!  They also have a term they use--EFI.  Some are EFI people and some of them aren't.  Kathy & I are EFI people because we have no way to bail out early on any given day, so, like some of them, we are doing Every Fu.....  Inch!!

 

Speaking of B & Bs, I just have to take a minute to compare the two we've stayed at on the trip.  Check Point Harley was a group of bunkhouses on a ranch in Texas--wide open spaces, cows mooing to you, donkeys braying, pigs oinking, acres to roam, and Harley-Davidson bedspreads--along with Ernie, as all-around wonderful guy as I ever met.  The St Francisville B & B is a big old wooden frameed southern mansion with extra rooms built on the back, giant oaks, spanish moss, azaleas, swimming pool and beautiful antiques everywhere you look. The two could hardly be more different, yet both are busting with hospitality and it's hard to say which we enjoy more.

 

In the fauna department, two critters bear mentioning.  Armadillos.  They aren't well-equipped to deal with cars, and seem to come out about the same as turtles.  I figured we'd be done with them at the Texas/Louisiana border, but they're still with us half way across the state.  And skunks.  There are lots of them here--or at least there were.  Just about as many dead skunks as dead squirells--and that's a lot.  Also, I thought we'd be done with cactuses by now, but prickly pears are still with us as are lots of yuccas.  So we have both western and eastern plant life here, and though we're past the Thicket National Preserve, the woods are still so thick I'd be afraid that if I ventured in I might never find my way out.

 

A final note about the people here.  They are the friendliest yet, and that's really saying something.  Almost everyone is friendly, but people here take their time and want to know all about the trip.  One man told us of a study that found that while Louisiana may be one of the pooorest states, it ranks highest of all in hapiness of its residents.  And right now, that includes the two of us!  Maybe that incredible sweet-tea they drink has something to do with it.

 

Doug

Blog 4/12/10 Zowee!

Quite a day today,  far different than we had planned,  even tho our plans were pretty loose.

I called the city clerk for Melville, the town by the ferry we weren't sure was working.   She said the ferry was fixed,  but only ran from four to nine pm.   Since it was only a fifty mile ride to get there,  it looked like an easy day--until we learned the first eight miles on the other side aren't paved! We thought long and hard about trying it anyway, but finally decided that out running dogs would be tough on dirt.

So we set out on the 35 mile trip north to the closest bridge over the Atchafalaya River at Simmesport.  Since we had seventy miles in by then and it's more than forty more to the next motels in St Francisville, we decided to hole up in the only motel in Simmesport,  along with another couple we happened upon outside town.   The motel was a strange looking place,  also housing a pizza joint and a U-Haul franchise.  We checked in,  but shortly thereafter we checked back out.   To say that neither AAA nor Good Houskeeping would bestow their seal of approval on the place is a bit of an understatement.   For sure the cockroaches and several other species, of bugs DID approve.   Our options were limited,  and so was the daylight.   We time-trialed as best as two seriously overtrained tourists with forty plus pound bikes could the forty miles to St Francisville,  where we got to take a real ferry ride across the Mississippi.

We got to see a lovely sunset over the river,  and what little we saw of the town looks stunningly beautiful.   We will explore tomorrow,  but by the time we found a motel it was pitch black and we were two nervous, cranky cyclists.   No restaurants nearby,  so we talked the hostess into letting us raid the breakfast bar early.

We rode 114 miles,  starting at 8:00 am and ending at 8:00 pm.   But there was so much time wasted along the way that we still averaged close to 17 mph even with our now-dependable headwind.

A couple of parting thoughts today about dogs--occasioned by the fact that we have been chased by more dogs in about 300 miles of Louisiana than the rest of the trip combined.  There's one rule that never fails--only houses that appear to have nothing much worth protecting house dogs that chase.  The more squalid the place,  the scarier the dog.   Some big dogs keep little dogs around whose job it is to alert the sleeping, big,  scary dog of our approach in time for Thor to regain consciousness and give chase.   Over the years it is perfectly clear that the deep south--that is,  the southeast US,  is by far the worst for dogs.   At least we get a little sprinting practice,  and in this part of the world,  no hills pop up to slow us down and make us easy pickings for Fido.

Very satisfying to get across the Mississippi today,  an epic ride with some great roads and beautiful scenery,  but this particular ride still has a few bugs to get worked out of it.

Doug

Day 30 Sunset on the Mississippi