Month: April 2018

I felt it was time we talked. That is, some of you may be curious as to how I’m doing this, day in and day out. This happens entirely on an elegantly designed self-propelled vehicle weighed down by some equipment. Today, we’ll just cover two items; the bike and where to go.

The Bike and Me

I’m about 145 lbs and carrying about 50-lbs of stuff in 5 separate bags that is everything in the world to me while I’m out here. It was my decision to also include camping equipment and cameras – things I think make the trip more memorable at the expense of their weight.

The bike itself is 22 lbs and is a custom-built Seven Cycles model called the Expat S. The frame is titanium, the fork is carbon and the handle bars and wheels are aluminum. Most of the 50 lb weight I’m carrying is distributed in the rear of the bike on a strong aluminum rack system. There are two Iberia pannier bags that hang on the sides and one commuter case on top of the rack. I’ve upgraded my tires since starting this trip in the Keys to super-durable Continental Touring 37c tires – probably the best technical move I’ve made on this trip.

One pannier contains two plastic shopping bags – one bag has my cycling clothes and the other all my casual clothes. Each has a minimal amount of clothes for 2 or 3 days. The other pannier has camping equipment and some backup cycling tools and parts.

The commuter case that sits in top of the rack contains all my electronics and camera gear. Also, it carries my money, ID, energy food, toiletries and few other things. It’s also great to use for going shopping or going into town as a place I can stash stuff.

There’s also a top-tube bar bag in the middle of the bike with a basic cycling repair kit for flats, wrenches and a cable and lock system to secure the bike when I leave it in public. Hanging off the handle bars in front is my ultra-light 2-man tent, weighing in at about 5 lbs.

Riding this type of bike, fully loaded, is a new experience. It is very easy to tip to a side and bring the bike and me quickly to the ground. I learned that quickly the first few days. This usually happens when stopping or starting to roll. Once you get the bike rolling its an amazingly solid balance and even tank-like when going down the highway. I’ve learned that even in wind, it usually holds a steady course. Of course, working the margins of a shoulder or even a traffic lane requires concentration and a steady hand. Quick turns must be avoided. One more thing. Don’t try pedaling standing up – you’ll quickly throw yourself off-balance.

It takes me an hour or more each morning to repack and examine the bike before I set out, between 6:00 to 8:00 a.m. depending on what’s ahead.

In Google I Trust…sometimes

The night before I usually examine the route I’m going to take. For me, the route should be about 60 miles which is my current daily target. That will vary each day depending on the route, the lodging options and how I’m feeling. The specific route is a variation of what Google thinks are bicycle routes to a destination. Just go to http://maps.google.com and you will see between any directional points one and usually more routes suggested. That route becomes my compass for the day.

Right now I view the directions I choose and set out, often with Google maps audio instructions on when to turn, just like you might in a car. One problem at the moment is I do not have earphones so hearing the exact turn is difficult most of the time. Also, know that Google’s verbal instructions are often wrong or lead you to places you wish you never saw – such as deserted gravel roads…

The last problem using the Google maps technique is that it eats up smartphone power like crazy. Within 3 to 4 hours my iPhone 7 is on 10% power warning, at which point I hook up one of my two backup power supplies – an absolute must for this ride In fact, I’m using a solar panel backup for one of the supplies.

In any case, it works as long as you know it takes some fine tweaking. For some out there, you might be wondering why not use a proven course someone else has laid out, like the East Coast Greenway or a GPX Strava/Garmin route? My two points here are that marked trails usually based on maximum safety and community-minded factors that make them inefficient if you want to cover as many miles as as you can in the shortest period of time. And, choosing the best digital route take too long to figure out. For a long distance challenge, the best method is still ad hoc using at least some of the quick and effective wisdom that Google maps offers.

That said, I wasted a couple extra hours yesterday thinking I was following the right course and then realizing that I was going in the wrong direction. But, eventually, the miles go on, I get closer to home and the cycling sausage is made.

I was on my way from Jacksonville, NC at a nicely antique-decorated Airbnb home that was eerily quiet, although the owner (I think) was next door. It was a non-contact stay, although by now I wanted more human contact and to meet people along the way. Jacksonville was a skeleton of a city mostly acting as a convenient transition point for visitors to the Marine’s Camp LeJeune nearby.

While Rt 24 or 17 took me out of Jacksonville, I was surprised to find a bike path following the same roads and decided this might be a safer and more enjoyable way to get to Moorehead City.

Maybe it was the fact that my rigged bike looked like a rolling nuclear device or maybe with the new gray scruffy beard that they realized I was too old to be a recruit. In any case, three big Marines were quickly upon me as I easily rolled past the Camp LeJeune gate. No kidding.

I feebly explained that the LeJeune bikeway just kept going into the base. Then I tried to blame it on Google. It looked suspicious. Thank God they did not inspect my bags. They are not a pleasant site right now.

Anyway, I backtracked and began my trek on a big wide smooth highway. Camp LeJeune is enormous and well guarded. Although I can say that at least for 1 day I was either a weird recruit or terror on wheels.

True confession. Some bridges scare me these days. It wasn’t always that way. But maybe I was always in awe of the idea. This time I am faced with the challenge almost daily of engaging with them.

It’s complicated because they can be both challenging and satisfying. I mean crossing over anything that spans two bodies is worthy of respect. Being in my own funk these days and in the south, my mind kept  coming back to James Brown, “The Godfather of Soul.”

He’s famous for the line “Take me to the bridge.” Of course, who knows what he was talking about exactly? But the Google consensus is that he was doing a musical shift to his horn section bridging the way the song was going. I keep thinking of him sliding across the floor and his guttural “Hey” with horns blasting and then the music stops and all goes back to the rythum.

Well I’ve had my share of heart stopping bridges where I try to remember James while I plow on. The Seven Mile bridge with 4 ft narrow shoulder for 7 miles.

The bridge Broad River Bridge near Beaufort which is over 500 feet high and nearly 2 miles long was a monster at the end of a 60-mile day.

But Charleston threw some new challenges out to me today.

I was staying on James Island just below Charleston. It had a fairly small draw bridge  with metal grating that needed to be crossed to get off the island then another similar draw bridge with all the traffic fury of the Rt 17 morning rush. These bridges are tricky in normal conditions, but can be extremely slippery after the rain we had the day before. I decided to get off the bike and walk it, except there was no place to walk tbe bike. So, I had to piss off a lot rush hour drivers. Harrowing? Yes.

Then, soon after ending up in the city of Charleston I made my way thru to the “Big Bridge” aka Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge, which I knew nothing about. It’s a 2.7 mile span peaking around 500 feet with a commanding view of Charleston. Viewing this from the bike from afar at 7:00 am led me to an “Oh s__t!” moment. But, as I got closer I found that it was designed with protection for cyclist and pedestrians! Sweet Baby Jesus, there was nothing to fear and much to admire and awe. It might just be the most beautiful bridge I have ever crossed!

Today, I hear there are two bridges here in Georgetown to cross as I start my way to Myrtle Beach. I cringe a bit but Joseph, my Airbnb host, says you can always walk it. He’s right and I just might do that and Georgetown is a much more chill place. At least I’ll get it over in the morning and lose that anxiety for the rest of the day.

Let the spirit of James “Take me to the Bridge” Bump, bump, bump, bump, bump.

The Rolling Stones said it well…

Say a prayer for the common foot soldier
Spare a thought for his back breaking work
Say a prayer for his wife and his children
Who burn the fires and who still till the earth

I’m guessing that most of us give little thought to everyone around us unless we faced with meeting and greeting others.

If there’s one thing this trip has taught me is that we are all connected with great and interesting people. Maybe its my daily riding outfit or just being in places where others are strangers too. Its renewed my faith in our brother and sisterhood. Here’s just a bunch since I started:

Singers at the bar…

Rockabilly band at Sunset Pier in Key West

Singer at Hogfish Bar in Key West

Fishing as a way of life… The bridge pier is so high and the fish so big, most can’t be brought up. But its all about fishing.

Ferry as a lifestyle. Katherine is retired but crosses the St James River to help care for invalid women for her church. Her husband retired from military as so many around here do.

Sandra and Ed vacation here in Florida to visit kids who have moved to the area. They are from Vermont.

John and Joan rolled into Charleston in their deluxe RV. They retired to Tucson but prefer roaming the country. Warm areas in the winter, cool areas in the summer. Their original home base was Connecticut.

Where do you turn on a Sunday morning for some energy and good vibes? Your local roadside produce stand. This guy gave me a Red Navel orange and would not take any money for it. Pay it forward…

Here’s Carl (aka “Port Arthur”) a former trombonist who looks like he now admintsters wisdom to locals and travelers near Charleston. Everyone seems to know Carl.

Then there were some “trail angels” right before Charleston where the road made me weary. Min and Carl pointed out a real bike path that let me ride 6 miles to town and saved my ass.

All hail the good people out there.

It’s a day off to explore. Four solid days of riding and its time to see some sites right here in the heart of the old South.

Staying here about 10 miles south of the city, I was advised to leave the bike home and catch an Uber. It’s the way to travel when I can’t bike or walk there. We all better get used to it. For about $20 all it takes is a couple taps on the phone and magically a friendly driver appears. Oh so nice and easy, especially when there’s no haggling on price and the money magically transfers without shelling any currency. All of life should be that easy. Love them or hate them, Uber has changed everything.

In about 20 minutes I’m transported to a busy and vibrant city I barely remember 40 years ago when I last visited. All the tourists visit the Moon River and Historic Districts among many others. Fortunately, it’s an easy city to explore in about 1 X 1 miles broken up into square blocks and filled with square parks’ large and small building and old homes and, of course, tree-lined streets.

I arrived around 11:00 a.m and headed for the river front area where shops line the old port area on two to four levels above the water. This leads to the main historic area with all its business and tourists. The high-end stores and typical quality franchises are here (Starbucks, Hyatt, etc.). The riverboat and trolley tours are popular but I chose hoofing it in town.

My only slight problem is I am traveling with only 2 pair of shoes, i.e., a pair of sandals and my cycling shoes. At least my shoe planning paid off as I equipped my bike for Shimano SPD pedals which allow a shoe with an embedded cleat so that I can walk around flat, without a protruding big cleat. My typical road bike shoe uses the Look pedal system which is worthless for walking around casually. So I was able to cover a couple of the districts in town in a few hours.

Since I did not have much time and just a few recommendations, I hunted down what I could find. There was “Vic’s” located on the 4th level at the river front which Nikki had told me was a great place to hang out for a relatively cheap lunch with a view. Since budgeting and simple was my line of thinking, I passed.

All Hail the Great Dive Bar!

Then there was Pinkie Master’s which has a strange reputation as one of the great “dive bars” and relecting the real vibe of Savannah. So, thanks to Google I mapped it out and took about 1/2 mile walk away from the tourists and toward the center of town. There it was looking its part, although hardly in a bad part of town.

So, part of the legend of Pinkie Master’s is that it was always a political watering hole where the big and small folk could meet and drink – probably the most popular sport from what I hear in this town. The exact location changed over time with its ups and downs. It’s truely a very small bar filled with memorabilia.

One of the great stories is of Jimmy Carter hanging out here and with the local pols. He has his own plaque on the wall and is famous for giving a speech standing up on the bar. He wrote this to the owner after they acknowledged his contributions to Georgia.

“I will always remember the times I had in your establishment,” Carter wrote. “When I ran for governor, Pinkie himself was one of my most important supporters. And when I was back in Savannah as President of the United States, I will never forget standing on the bar to say thank you.”

The bar has that old dark comfortable feeling with doors open and reminds me of the old small NYC Village bars like the Bitter End or the Dugout, but maybe even smaller. I order a beer and ask about food. The bar keep says no food here, but I can order something next door and bring it in. So, after a couple beers and listening to the Stones and Hendricks, I ask him to watch my stuff at the bar and I go next door and order a California King sandwich basically a huge turkey club on foccacia. He says he’ll deliver it next door at Pinkie’s when ready. Beautiful. Great, a sandwich personally delivered to your favorite bar, next door. This is living large!

I lingered long enough to finish lunch, have another beer and take a few pics then walked to the Hyatt and called for an Uber. Before you know it I was magically transported to the condo ready to plan out the next couple days.

Heavy rain is in the forecast for Monday.

If I can get myself to Beaufort SC then the next day to Charleston I can at least wait out the rain in a comfortable city like Savannah. At least that’s the plan for now.

When Maj. Gen.William Tecumseh Sherman of the Union Army began his famous march from Atlanta to the sea it ended with the capture of the port of Savannah. His forces followed a “scorched earth” policy. I think they still hate Yankees about that. I intended to use the “leave not a trace” policy with my approach.

Yesterday, I came from the sleepy city of Brunswick and rolled in nicely to a new condo development right outside Savannah. It’s my home for a couple of days. While I don’t feel tired at all, I had planned to spend an extra day in key places. Savannah was one of them. This will also give me an opportunity to recharge and plan ahead instead of the daily plan of where I’m going to stay the next.

The day started out weird. Just as I was going to bed the night before I suddenly remembered my checking out at Win-Dixie with a few items and then selecting to get back $40 cash on my debit card. But I knew immediately that I had not taken the money and rushed out. I would imagine everyone has done this at one time or another. For me and my cheapo scheme, $40 cash is a big loss. It’s about 1/2 of my self-imposed daily budget.

So, I left Brunswick at about 7:00 a.m. just in time to get to the store opening to desperately argue my case. By then, I had no receipt and only a strange remembrance of the amount of the transaction $58.19 and the time I was there. Lucky for me the store manager went straight to work and viewed the video tape for the day (they did not cash out the station) and gave me the $40! Good Lawd Almighty! I’ve been saved! It was a good omen for the rest of the day.

After leaving the congestion of any populated area the road once again opens up and bike traveling gets easier. Shoulders appear and by the middle of the day there are times where minutes go by where no vehicles are in sight. Today, I was blessed with a bit of a tailwind.

My strategy is to get a quick breakfast or at least coffee by 8 and then roll on until about 10 and find a diner or something like it for a big breakfast to get me through until the finish (estimated 2-3 p.m.). But, without know what’s ahead, even short-term plans need adjusting.

I stumbled upon a minor roadside attraction – the Smallest Church in America. More about that at another time….

There was not many signs of commerce along the way so I realized I needed to just create something and pulled into a gas station (all of which now sell food to make a living and gas as a loss leader) and buy something to eat with Gatorade to re-hydrate (mid-80s today).

Here at the Red Rooster station I got into a discussion with a friendly guy asking me where I’m going. (I pause here to acknowledge that I’m looking very strange here in biking gear in the middle of Georgia!) He says “Oh wow, I used to live in Atlantic City and I was a dealer at the Revel…until I got laid off. My cousin said to come here until I figured out what to do next. And, I’m still here.” He added, “Now I know. I’m going to buy my own business so I don’t have to work for anyone else. A wise person told me you can’t get rich working for someone. You have to do it on your own.” Ah, the wisdom of the road! I didn’t want to crush his dream and totally agreed.

So, off I went without a full breakfast and adjusting to the idea of a full lunch. The body was now begging for something more. After 5 hours of riding, just about noon, I finally came upon a town big enough to have a place to eat called Midway. And, there was Captain Joe’s, a popular small restaurant that was perfect for a great Shrimp Po-Boy with the best sweet potato fries I ever had.

I still had 25 miles to go and traffic and civilization began to interrupt as I neared Savannah. Soon I was at my destination and arrived around 3:30 after waiting on a freight train crossing for 1/2 hour.

The night’s stay and the next would be in a new condo unit in Savannah’s Georgetown suburb shared with a couple of guys. It’s 10 miles south of the city’s center and an Uber ride away. I’ve conquered the South…at least for now.