December 31, 2018, a great day spent with friends

  Waking up at 8:00 is definitely not my style but my body and mind thanked the goddess of sleep.  Bob and Mary get up at the crack of ugly so I felt embarrassed having mistakenly over slept.  Mary  was quietly putting together a breakfast meant for the gods.  Like, how do I rate such royal treatment? With breakfast finished,  Bob and I headed for the bike shop where I had a handlebar stem extender put on to help alleviate the hand numbing problem plaguing my rides. The creaking back wheel is still an issue; none of us can figure out. I pray the problem doesn’t develop into something serious when I am in the south nowhere.
       After buying ingredients for my modified version of the dark and stormy rum drink (a classic sailor’s post race drink), Mary made up another meal which hit the mark.  Seriously, I am getting spoiled.  Later, as advertised, Bob and I drove his Tonka toy Suzuki down to the marina where we shipped out for a sail.  A good wind, fun boat to sail and I was able to coach Bob in sailing technique. I remember being in the same position years ago when I purchased my Herreshoff.  After years of not sailing, it can be daunting if not intimidating to climb aboard and proficiently sail your own boat. After a fun sail, we secured the boat back on its trailer, stored it away at the marina and headed for home.
         Mary was at it again, amazing. Appearing to doing it effortlessly, she prepared another culinary delight. I couldn’t even wash dishes.  I  need counseling. As the night progress, the neighborhood New Year’s Eve fireworks commenced.  Bob and Mary’s two HUGE Newfoundland dogs don’t do well with explosives; my family dogs having had the same problem. And these dogs, at one pounds each, think they are laps dogs!  After some doggy downers came to the rescue, the three of humans in room talked about our families. Along the way, I managed to FaceTime with Cyrus and Julia wishing them a happy new year.  Dessert of apple turnovers and ice cream was the last event of the day, capping off a truly fun day. Bob and Mary have redefined Warmshowers.org.  I will have to up my game when I get home.  Lights out well before midnight. Here is to a health and happy new year.

Long hot day with a happy ending

    Slept well in the tent, surrounded by other tents for a change. Climbed out of the tent around 6:40, dried off the dew, packed up and depart by 8:40. Misty as with all the previous mornings but the sun broke out early along either the heat. From Mims to south of Melbourne Beach, I covered fifty-five miles and arrived at 14:53. The heat and directness if the sun had me pouring down the H2O and slathering on another layer sunscreen.  The spoke issue seems to have mostly resolved itself but needs some additional  tweeking. Probably new rims are in order for my Vietnam trip but just get me through this trip. Hot and tired with my rear end feeling a bit tender, I arrived at Bob and Mary Pinizzotto’s House, Warmshowers members. They took me in and immediately set to work bringing me back to life with vitamin drinks, strawberries, beer and homemade cookies. My room and bath is absolutely the best. After cleaning up, Bob and I climbed aboard his Suzuki Geo Buggy, a true classic, and rode over to one of the coolest old Florida laidback marinas out there. It reminded me of Fort Trumbull marina but far more atmosphere. The second stop was to see the neighbor club house situated just above the beach, a divine location.  Preparation were being made for New Year’s Eve. Mentioning to Bob about where I should head for tomorrow and the fact that it was New Year’s Eve, he suggested I stay another day. What a fabulous offer.  Not only have Bob and Mary taken me in and treated me with such kindness but now I am spending New Year’s with them.  How cool is that but to top things off,  Mary made a superb dinner, red wine included.  We hung out for a couple hours talking about there doings and mine. A good time was had by all. No less, they even ran a load through of my clothes. Tomorrow, Bob and I may go for a sail in his nineteen foot sloop. Hospitality doesn’t get much better than this.  Warmshowers.org is a great organization.

Best day yet

       After checking into motel, other than television, there is not much to do but sleep.  Living in a box is a miserable way to see the world.   With ten hours of sleep, I sprang out of bed and slammed my body and mind into gear.  Packed up and was on my way by 7:25, foggy gray misty morning as I pedaled down past the high rise jungle of ocean drive, Ormond Beach. Stopping at Burger King, I bought a dish of eggs, sausage, pancakes and OJ.  Back on the road in twenty minutes,  I had clear riding with litttle traffic and no wind. The legs and body are adjusting and I managed fifty carefree miles, ending up in Mims at a KOA camp ground. With fifteen miles to go, the sun appeared and the humidity settled in, Florida as I know it to be. Ten miles before Mims I picked up lunch at a convenience  store and struck a conversation with a nice guy on a KTM motorcycle (owns several hot bikes, having owned a motorcycle store), seventy-five years old. We had the same outlook on life, get out there and see the world, no time to waste.
      Once settled in, tent up, everything off the bike,  I removed the back wheel and tightened up the spokes. Erik LaFrambious has been my ‘pro from Dover’on getting my bicycle tuned up for my trip. Over the phone, I gave him the run down on this creeping sound I was hearing from the back wheel. Progressively getting louder, eventually I narrowed it down to the spokes. To precluded any other possible reasons for the creaking, Erik suggested I remove the back wheel and check for anything loose in the wheel hug. Nothing wrong there so I painstaking tightened each spoke one quarter turn.  The creaking sound seems to have gone. Tomorrow will be the test with all the gear loaded on.
     Tomorrow I head for Melbourne where I have a Warmshowers host putting me up.  From what I was told by a passed by at the campsite, from here south I am entering the subtropics. The temperatures are predicted to be in the low eighties. Now for the full summer attire and plenty of sunscreen.

After eighty miles the legs are adjusting

   Off at 8:30 from Jack Edwards’ house, he laid out breakfast before he left before I woke.  Amazing similarities, hope he stays in touch. The first two hours on the road my legs were complaining. The wind was unmercifully, slowing me down way below ten mph. With thirty miles behind I stopped at Flagler beach. After consuming a vitamin drink, chicken salad sandwich and some dark chocolate, I pushed off from a rundown convenience store where no one spoke English. The wind moderated and my legs started getting in the groove.  It was my arms and constant repositioning of my hands on the bars, to fight off numbness, that wore me down.  If I find a good bicycle shop, I hope to buy a bar extender to raising my torso up and reduce my weight on the bars.

     After forty-five miles I rolled into Ormond Beach, a big town with ocean high rises mile after mile. My search for an inexpensive Airbnb or Warmshowers host proved fruitless. I checked a firehouse along the way. A central firehouse closed up, what gives with that?  At a McDonald’s, I hooked up to WiFi and started surfing for a place to stay. Called two churches but got the answering machine. Forget the community on the weekdays, it is just for the Sunday show of being “saved”.  A couple, a bit younger than I, walked in and were enthusiastic about my bike outside. With a little local knowledge, they assured me that there were several inexpensive motels down the road a few miles. With no other option, I had to check into a room on the water. A clean room, bed and bathroom forty-five dollars was the best I could fine. The ocean patio with a spectacular view made it a good deal.  The surf and wind were both up making the patio the perfect setting.  The receptionist was a piece of work, who grew up in South Boston, came out and shot the breeze with me as a rescue crew on the endless beach was trying to find a person who supposably drowned. 

    Tomorrow, I ride to Mimi and either score a Warmshowers place or a KOA campsite near the Kennedy center.  Hopefully the wind won’t be cranked up; it would be nice to keep the bike moving at ten to twelve mph.

First day on the road

       Anxiety builds as the time approaches to get pedaling.  Breaking out of the comfort zone can be fraught with second guessing, do I have it in me and so forth. To not get out of my comfort zone is the beginning of slow death, a boring unfulfilling way to spend the last year’s of my life.  Today, thirty-five days on the road, the wind and light rain hitting me from the southeast.  A bit of soarness in the arms, legs and arse but nothing I haven’t experienced before.
       My Warmshowers host, Jack Edwards, and I hit it off.  Perhaps a bit older than me but our similarities are remarkable.  After seeing historic St Augustine and all it excessive cheap tourism with thousands of people swarming the narrow streets, I escaped back to Jack’s place along with a six of double IPA.  Jack cooked s pasta dish to die for.  We polished off the six pack and talked about our extensive bike odyssey’s and how important it was to keep doing them.  Jack is selling his house to head for some part of the world out of the ordinary.  Whether it be Thailand or Malaysia, he is in search of the exotic that so any of us crave.
    Tomorrow, Daytona Beach beckons.  Everything is booked so I hope one of the three Warmshowers contacts comes through.  There is a campsite tens miles out of my way if everything else fails. Of course, I could also stealth camp but there are alligators down here!

Iiftoff from Providence

        Christmas Eve at Catherine Pratt’s house , just the two of us hanging out in her kitchen having wine, beer, salad, pizza and brownies and  cream for dessert.  It was good to be with a friend given that Cyrus and Julia are on the west coast working Christmas Day. Headed for home around ten. With my pre-trip anxiety getting the barter of me, I awoke at 1:45 and fitfully struggled to fall asleep again. 5:45 came early but I hit the floor knowing Brian Bergeron was picking me up at 6:40. He is a great kid, at nineteen he has it together. We made to TF Green traffic free. I checked in my two monster bags containing my bike and panniers. It is a site to see me wheeling all my gear through the terminal, taking up a good six feet. The looks I get are that of anazement; who is this bald grey haired guy dragging all this gear along. I have yet to meet anyone like me in all my trips. Young guys and girls,yes; a sixty-nine year old guy, never.
        Trying to figure out how to schlep my gear twenty-three miles from the Jacksonville airport to my Airbnb in downtown had me guessing.  Saving the day, my Airbnb host picked me up.  I had agreed to help her out by switching rooms so she returned the favor, on top of permitting me to storing my luggage while I am on the road. As well, her other guest cooked up a killer dinner to thank me for helping him out by changing rooms. Bonfire in the backyard fire pit along with a few cold brews, real nice. Hit the sack around 10:30 and slept like I was dead.
       Day two I assembled the bike and rode around the outskirts of Jacksonville getting the  feel of Florida traffic and climate; it was encouraging to see plenty of bike lanes. Stopped for lunch along the way, All systems are go for the bike and now to chill out before I head for St Augustine tomorrow where I have a warmershowers biker host waiting for me.

Liftoff Christmas morning

The bags are pack, bills paid, plants watered, presents sent and loose ends tied.  Everything is A Ok for departure.  Providence to Jacksonville, Airbnb for two nights, assemble the bike and head for coast, A1A south.  550 miles to Key West, no hills and hopefully no headwinds.  It always takes a little bit of psyching myself up for any of my trips.  Breaking out of my comfort zone is the toughest part of any of my trips.  Once in the road, I enter a world alien to most people. Free of the fish bowl of life, I am on my own.  I wish I could leave now.