Day Four; Folkston to Odum Georgia - 87.37 miles, average speed 12.1 mph

Left Folkston (Relax Inn, formerly Days Inn) at 7:35. Had slept well and long. Felt mildly ill, but this passed after eating leftover pizza and drinking nearly frozen Pepsi. The mini-refrigerator was extremely efficient.

Had to ask directions from sheriff’s deputy directing school traffic but was soon on track. The prescribed route uses all rural roads and some are extremely rural to the point that if I fell over it might be hours or days, even, before anyone passed by to notice me. Fortunately, most of the pavement was well maintained, so making time was easy until the weather changed. Thunderstorms in the area sent headwinds and crosswinds solely to frustrate me.

Twenty miles northeast of Folkston I stopped at a store that was at least one step back in time. The intersection of County Road 252 and Old 259 had no name. Whether the name on a sign hanging from the building was the name of the business was questionable. Ponderosa did not fit and I did not ask. The lady behind the counter regaled me with questions I could answer and answers to questions I did not ask. On Thursday nights the Ponderosa also serves ribs and I bet they’re damn good.

As I ate my iced honey bun and drank my YooHoo I wondered about the clientele of this place in the middle of somewhere Georgia. 

The most interesting thing I saw in these many woodland miles was recently killed wild hog. It was large enough to make me wonder what hit it and did not end up in the ditch. It was a big, fierce looking animal. Dead on the road is about the only way I ever want to see another wild hog

Atkinson, Hortense and Patterson were not significantly more impressive the area around the Ponderosa and the weather was worse. Light, sometimes drizzling rain dampened my clothes but not my spirit. I did decide I had enough of woods by the time I reached the agricultural area between Patterson and Odum. Soon got tired of fields of cotton, too.

I covered more than 80 miles again and did so without great difficulty. Tired, yes. Worn out, no. I become saddle sore about 50 miles into the ride, in part because of bad timing for one of those irritating sore spots that appeared before I departed. I think zinc oxide will ultimately dry it and reduce that part of the saddle soreness. The Brooks B-17 works as it is supposed to. So does the bike and the tires. And the bags. The pilot remains the weakest part.

So, here I am in Odum , Georgia, without a place to stay. Three people suggested the Recreation Area. A lady inside the hall associated with the area said she saw me as she drove into town and had she known then I could have pitched my tent in her yard. Wonder if she would have fed me, too?! She offered that if I stayed around tomorrow I could join the group for whom she had rented the hall and she’d have good food then.

One of the frequent things people say about touring is that you meet interesting and helpful people. That is certainly true so far. From the Italian families to the working class hero at the local store who called a friend to try to locate another campground to the lady in the rec hall, everyone has been at least interesting.

Tomorrow? It’s less than 80 miles to Statesboro. Why not?

Day One; G'ville to St. Augustine - 86.9 miles, average speed 12.6 mph

Left later than intended (745), but within my planned window. Stopped at work, which was on the way out of town and said goodbyes. I've dealt with all the internal issues related to leaving my job to someone else. I prepared as much as possible and have to trust that things will work out. The nature of this Adventure is such that I cannot dwell on what might happen anywhere except on the road.

Before leaving G'ville, I stopped at Winn-Dixie and bought the sunscreen I had forgotten yesterday. Later, I'd be glad of the decision. I also picked up a handful of Larabars because I had packed my supply deeper than I wished to dig. Added a tin on wintergreen Altoids for their diversionary quality.

From G'ville to Palatka was typical Florida except for a few tedious hills. The final several miles really sucked, though; hot, featureless, straight and a headwind. It's been my observation about headwinds in Florida. No matter which way one rides, eventually there'll be a headwind. Pallatka turned out to be 50 miles distant and while that had been my maximum distance previously, I did not intend to stop before reaching St. Augustine, another 35 miles.

I ate two Larabars, drank a lot of water, even stopped at a convenience store for more water and some Gatorade, but over the final miles before reaching Palatka I could only think about double cheese burgers Well, I never intended to make this a fine food adventure. I bought two. Loved 'em. And had refills of Coke and suffered not a moment of remorse. I did have an extended moment of anxiety when two men in my age range left and headed to their cars. They wore jeans. Neither had an ass. Will this happen to me? Is there a treatment or is it terminal?

Soon after leaving McDonalds I encountered one of Florida's "mountains."

This one climbs over the St. Johns River. 5 mph up. 30 mph down.

I opted to diverge from Adventure Cycling's route which would have me zigging and zagging my way to The Ancient City. Having driven 207 I knew it has an adequate paved shoulder. Using it would reduce the distance by 5 to 7 miles. It was a tough 35 miles. Headwind. Heat. Tired. And a diversion.

The bike path to nowhere.

 About 10 miles from St. Augustine a bike path appeared along the 207 right-of-way. I doffed my helmet and took it. When it crossed to the other side of 207 an continued to follow the right-of-way I stayed on it. When I reached a point where it seemed to vanish at the horizon was concerned. A single road crossed it after 3 miles. When I met an oncoming walker and asked about getting to my destination he told me the trail was a dead a few miles ahead. I needed to backtrack only a few hundred years and eventually reached the Pirate Haus.

I admit to being damn tired, but managed too get bike and gear to the top of the stairs of The Pirate Haus. After sitting numbly for awhile I showered, got some expensive pizza and a lot of Pepsi and am now ready to call it a night. Tomorrow will be a significantly shorter ride likely in the 55 mile range. It will also be the first tent night. Today convinced me I can do this thing.
 

The BETA Ride

I finally loaded the bike with all or nearly all my gear and went for a ride. The anxiety I felt about handling a fully loaded bike disappeared quickly. The obvious handling differences relate to slower steering as expected. The feeling is like automobile oversteer. I adjusted in a few miles. The remarkable thing was how different the overall ride felt. I was able to understand what has been said about the the flexibility of steel frames. Where the lightly loaded bike has been stiff, sending the shock of bumps to my hands, fully loaded it does not. Guess that's part of what makes it a touring bike.

I packed food, cooking supplies, maintenance and repair items and first aid items in the front panniers. Right rear holds a few civilian clothes and one very large non-cycling shoes. The need for clothes to accommodate a few days off the road and possibly chilly mornings made this part of preparation difficult and shoes were the toughest decision. One of my Nike old man mall walker shoes (sans Velcro) fit in the bottom of the rear bags as if custom made for the purpose. Two light T-shirts, one one pants, some socks and underwear comprise the basics. A mixed fiber outdoorsy long (roll-up) sleeve shirt will serve multiple purposes. Never a fashion plate, my civilian wardrobe is probably adequate. Atop the civilian clothes are campsite accessories; rope, gossamer plastic sheet, deck of cards, book, extension cord and a few other relevant items.

On the other shoe in the left rear pannier is daily clothes, toilet items, and my netbook. The clothing and microfibre towels should provide excellent support and crush protection. Both rear panniers can hold a bit more. I hope there are not too many tings I haven't thought of, though I suspect that one of the things the first tour teaches is the difference between wants and needs and how to distinguish the two.

I bungee cord a dry bag holding tent, ground cloth, sleeping bag and sleeping pad too the rear rack and will probably add a used but usable original equipment Continental touring tire.

The handlebar bag holds my rain cape, spare gloves, multi-tool, batteries, camera and other miscellaneous items. I'll carry a day supply of Lara Bars and other food items. My cell phone, wallet and such will ride there along with the maps.I didn't purchase the Ortlieb map case so I will carry the maps in waterproof zip bags along with a small notebook and pen. This, too, is going to be a catch-all and it not overfull, yet.

One of the obvious things to carry in open pannier space is spare water. I don't think I can carry too much water since temperatures are going to moderate very little until my return. Most people question my timing for the trip because of the 90 degree plus temperature. It's all about hydration and pacing. I didn't decide to do this a week ago, I've been riding in heat for years and have learned the value of water. Experience counts.

It gets more exciting each day. The remaining thing to do is be as certain as possible of "Where" and "How far." Motels are sparse in Coastal Georgia and South Carolina. It is also that way between the Outer Banks and Richmond. Then there is the return route. I will depending a lot on Google Maps and all the other online mapping options. I guess if I didn't want to face challenges I could stay home.

Goals and Reality

I have cycled more than 5000 miles since acquiring my Safari in April 2011. None of it has been in touring mode and the longest distance I have covered was 55 miles. There’s no doubt the Safari can make the tour. I am the weakest element.

A week ago I loaded front and rear panniers with about 25 pounds worth of 24 ounce water bottles, all of it unsprung weight. This part of Florida lacks significant hills, but the few short, moderate climbs hinted at the effort that will be required on the Skyline Drive. I was easily able to keep pace with the road bike riders I accompanied on rolling terrain at 15 to 20 mph. For the whole trip or 45 miles I averaged 14+ which is better than I anticipated.

While studying individual segments of the Adventure Cycling East Coast Route I began to accept that 100 miles per day might be unreasonable. Mileage is going to be dependent upon the logistics of finding food, water and shelter. It’s probably more logical to aim at smaller chunks of distance during the first week then increasing the mileage as I become more physically able. Highly relevant in this reasoning is Coastal Georgia’s lack of towns and the towns I will encounter are usually small and lacking significant resources. This changes as the route eases into South Carolina.

Estimates of my ability to handle 75 to 100 mile days may change as I work at extending my range locally. Cedar Key is 55 miles away. If I’m unable to make it a one day round trip at least I’ll be in a place I enjoy.

Loading my front panniers reminded me that I won’t be on a grocery run when they’re loaded for touring. Steering response is slower, but I soon adapted to it, in part, I’m sure, because of the Safari’s geometry. It’s further evidence that the bike can handle the trip. The rest is up to me.

Water you doing?

There are three things that seasoned tourists recommend taking more; clothing, food and water. Of the three I am most aware that it is hard to have too much water, especially in central Florida in the summer.

When I joined the Holie Pokies (cause that's what it's all about) for my first group ride I rode more than fifty miles for the first time. I carried three 24 ounce water bottles in cages and a fourth bottle in a pannier. I needed all I had. Thirty years ago when I was still capable or running, I learned the value of hydration in advance of hot weather training, so I always drink a lot of water and other fluids. Riding the 22 or so miles with the group was easy as their average speed seldom exceeded thirteen miles per hour. Riding the fifteen miles back home from their meeting place was not so easy.

Since then I have upped my mileage so I can cover fifty miles without undue stress. Four water bottle cages allow me to carry three 24 ounce bottles and one 16 ounce bottle. I drink all of it and often a fourth 24 ounce stashed in one of the panniers. As I increase my base mileage I will carry more than one extra bottle at the rate of 24 ounces per 10 to 20 miles, at least.

There is a second less obvious element to water. When I rode the final fifteen miles home after doing the Hokie Pokie, I found the final bottle of sun-warmed water was a link to a practical reality. I believed I could make the final 15 miles, but it was only when I lifted the bottle and took another mouthful of water that I knew I could. I was really tired!

Maybe it's too much like some kind of cosmic consciousness to revere my water bottles, but, damn I am glad to have lots of them. I like to pause in my cadence, savor the warm stuff and take a moment to relax. That something basic and simple can contribute positively to my bicycle adventure reaffirms the value of doing something basic and simple to improve me and my world.