Jonathan Dixon

I'm staying at this state park called Jonathan Dixon - a real proper name, I got there and the man said he was 'full up', and I'd have to sauntering on. But, sauntering on to where? I did not know, the next 200 km are Miami and surrounding areas, no official camp sites and probably few opportunities for stealth camping - plus it was getting late and I was tried. I asked again and he turn from a sour park ranger to a pretty friendly guy, you said he'd put me on an emergency site, said he had done some tripping and touring. There seemed like a lot of available sites when I got settled and took a look around. Primarily a RV park again.



It is gusty, and all my stuff keeps blowing away. It's more than a little frustrating to take out a shirt or a map and have it blow away into the dark. There is ecological burning going in the park, so there is a hazing of smoke and grit that the wind whips-up. I have to set up my hammock on the ground, as there aren't any good trees for it.



In addition to the natural beauty, there are some outsized-oversized industrial sites on the road; like this nuclear power plant.

The beach

I write by moonlight (later to be transcribed onto a laptop). I own a beach. Just for a night, but that's plenty. It's about a million miles long and all mine. I had to jump a fence and ignore a no trespassing sign. I'm stealing a beach.



I rode about 120 km today. I'm short of my 200km. I could have ridden a little more, but was tired from the night before. It was cold to say the least. I wore most of my clothes to bed and was still cold, and didn't sleep too well.

The nexus of the universe

St. Augustine to Miami in four days. That's the plan, maybe I shouldn't put it in writing. I think it's about 600 km. I did 106 km today, I'm planning two 200 km days in a row. It's not really a plan. Say I peddle an average of 22 km/h, which is possible, that mean it's about 9 ½ hours of riding per day. That's not too ridiculous. I have peddled 12 hours in a day and gotten about 100 km, biking into a head wind with a sore ankle. I think I did my 106 km in about 5 to 6 hours today. I might never be able to sit down again after biking so much. I'm going to switch the angle of my seat and hopefully move the area of pressure, letting one area rejuvenate while another area gets subjected to the meat tenderizer I'll be getting a Brook's saddle when I get home. I'm also planning on building up my own set of wheels, and maybe getting a bob.

I ate one serving of fruit today. Everything else was beige, brown or white in colour. On the road you feel like eating a meal every two hours or so, that also happens to be length of time it takes to find a adequately cheap restaurant on route. So, about ten minutes after eating, you've got to start scoping for the next place.

Today when I woke up I had lost all momentum. I was as anxious as the first day. There was an English guy in my hostel room, who had been driving around Florida, and I considered asking him for a ride to Orlando in an effort to cut 300 km off my trip. But, before I ask he said he was spending another day in St. Augustine, so that option was off the table. Not more than half an hour on my bike, and I switch my plan from riding to Naples, to riding to Key West and taking the ferry up to Fort Myers adding another 200 miles. It was just a fantastic ride today. I had a back wind like nothing else, I was going for stretches at about 35 km/h.

That hostel in Saint Augustine was a dive. It was suppose to be a backpacker hostel, but it also seemed to be a place of last resort too. One guy showed up, obviously recently punched in the face. He was drunk or somehow unhinged. I asked him his story and he said he had his Phd in Physiotherapy before he started to cry. He didn't have any cash so couldn't stay. But, he had a car, what's up with that? Sleep in your car, that's not too rough.

The owner was depressed and depressing and the place was filthy too. For some reason I thought the guy who owned the place was suppose to be a one-legged pirate, but this guy had both his legs.

There were some good guests there, in terms of the other cyclists. The retiree cyclist were cool. I suspect they were a little jealous of the unique places and stealth camping that myself and the other young cyclists were doing on route.

They had some cool bike too. Good gear, and had put a lot miles on it, and were planning on putting on a lot more.

My heel is still not back. I've put the cleat back in the shoe, and it was feeling fine today taped up. But, I'd like not to tape it up. A couple of days ago I developed a couple of blisters under the tape. But, I think they've progressed beyond the blister stage, I just call them 'sores' now. They're not that bad. I was putting polysporen on them. But, switched up just to Vaseline. I'll use polysporen if they look like they're getting infected.

Yesterday before leaving Saint Augustine, I went to ride about the town. And discovered my back wheel was out of true; on closer inspection I had a broken spoke. I thought I knew nothing about wheels, but I guess I knew enough to worry about these wheels. I don't know how to replace a spoke, and/or true a wheel. Things I need to learn. I took the wheel into a shop and got it fixed. I'm not sure how good a job the guy did, how tight should spokes be?

The day we hit the coast

Since I got a motel room last night, I decided to milk it for its worth and didn't get out of my king-sized bed until about 9 am. Giving me enough time to pack and be on my way before the 11 am check-out.

I let the motel room, because there were no places to camp; just swamp and box stores. The guy gave it to me at 50% of the already discounted price.

To find my motel, I varied from the red-ribbon on my ACA map, and had some trouble finding the ribbon again in the morning. This detour put on about 20 km and an hour of messin' around. I just generally wanted to get where I was going, I wasn't in the mood for residential neighborhood sight-seeing. Later the landscape was wonderful, and the wind frustrating. I rode most of the day into a headwind which got my spirits down. Essentially, my mood is directly related to how fast I'm going. Traveling at 15 km/h and I'm not feeling too hot, traveling at 25 km/h and I'm feeling fantastic.

The bike culture on the coast is amazing. Those low-rider bicycles are popular down here; I like individualized bikes. And the sport cyclists were out in force.

There is one main road and it had a bike lane. A gentleman in his late fifties passed me, and I took the opportunity to ask if I could draft him. He said sure, and I stuck with him for about 2 hours (he was on his before dinner 45 mile ride on a hybrid). It was awesome, I went from struggling at 17 km/h to riding at 23 km/h. The guy was stoic, but it's hard to carry on a conversation riding like we were. I did find out he was planning to ride the Northern Tier this summer.

I'm still riding with my ankle taped. So, earlier in the day I dropped my seat, so I could get more power out of my sore leg without moving my foot. Before my seat was too high for me to ride with my hands on the drops , but now since my seat was lower when I was following this guy I rode with my hands on the drops the entire way. By the time he turned around to head home, my hands were stiff and bruised. You put a lot more weight forward when you ride low. I missed all the landscape and everything, I just focused on his back wheel. It was hypnotizing.

I got Saint Augustine. It was suppose the be a haven. I checked into a place called the Pirate Haus, and ran into Joe in the street. He had met up with Ricky and Alison; who are keeping there own blog at - http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/4765

Ricky is a bike mechanic, and Alison had hiked both the Appalachian and the Pacific Coast Trails. They knew how to travel light. The two of them had half the stuff I had - the math works out to a quarter of the stuff per person.



Yeah, I can't crop any photos on the road.