The breakfast room...
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
This morning at the breakfast table I met the only other person staying at the inn. Her name is Jennifer and she's been here for four days.
Jennifer is originally from Quincy, and says that it hasn't changed a bit since the pre-1960s, much less since she graduated about twenty years ago. She's here for a funeral - one of her best friend's father died. Part of her perception of the lack of change is the fact that she heard a racist joke at the funeral. It didn't go over well with her and she said she "stared lasers at the guy." She let me know she voted for Obama within the first sixty seconds of our introductions. When Stuart came into the room it was less than sixty seconds before he knew.
Stuart didn't vote for Obama, and when he told his reasons why, she got very quiet and the conversation died rapidly.
Currently, she's living in Reston, Virginia, and really likes it. Coming back is difficult for her. I partly gathered this by the fact that yesterday when Stuart first showed me the large decanter of cognac it was half full. Later, at bedtime, it was almost completely empty. Of course, coming to Quincy may not be the only emotionally difficult thing for her. She could also have stressors in Virginia which cause her to drink heavily, such as turning off the alarm clock in the morning or running out of toothpaste.
I didn't take her picture because I didn't think she'd appreciate it. After all, it WAS morning, and she did look a little hungover.
Also during breakfast, before the conversation turned political, I learned that this area had a lot of money until the 1970s. It thrived during the tobacco industry's heyday by growing "shade tobacco." When a farmer grows shade tobacco, he covers the field with cheesecloth so the plants grow in a diffuse light. This prevents the leaves from developing veins and they can then be used for wrapping cigars.
I left Quincy about 9:00 and took Highway 90 instead of the ACA route, trimmming yet another two or three miles off the total to Jacksonville. There wasn't a shoulder for the first four or five miles, but it was a divided four lane highway.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
At Midway I got on I-10. I only needed to be on it for about 6-8 miles until it crossed Highway 90 again. I didn't really want to ride on the interstate, but I thought traveling through Tallahassee on 90 would be worse. I-10 at least has a wide shoulder. In some places bicyclists aren't allowed on the interstate, so I checked carefully before entering... no sign. Once on it, I rode hard. I wanted to get off the interstate as soon as possible.
Apparently, the Florida State Police wanted me off even sooner than that.
After about four miles a state trooper stopped his car in front of me, got out and stood behind his car waiting for me to pull up. His hands were clasped in front of him, one on top of the other, just below his waist. His legs were spread slightly wider than his shoulders.
No mirrored sunglasses - that's a good sign. Maybe I won't be stuck in the slammer with Bubba after all.
I thought about taking a picture but didn't want to reach into my handlebar bag while I'm heading straight for a guy with a gun.
He looked like he was about 22, with short reddish-blonde hair and only a hint of a Southern accent. When he told me I wasn't allowed on the interstate it sounded like he was reading from a textbook, "This is a limited access byway. Pedestrians and pedicycles (he actually used that word) are prohibited. You will need to take the next exit, after which you may take any road." He also said, "We've received several calls about you." Probably the same people who saw me running toward the railroad tracks in Texas.
Before leaving he thanked me, and called me "Sir."
I took the next exit, pulled over and got out my new computer to look at a map of Tallahassee. (I stopped at a convenience store and could've simply gone inside to look at a map, but I used the computer because I COULD) Scrutinizing the map, I saw that there were no roads parallel to I-10. All of the roads leave the downtown area like spokes on a wagon wheel. The only way I'll able to get to Highway 90 now is if I ride all the way downtown.
So, I'll ride downtown.
Just before I left a guy walked out of the convenience store, lit a cigarette, and asked where I started. He told me he was trying to get to Fort Myers, where a buddy of his might have a job for him. He also said that he was traveling even lighter than me, then pointed to the rolled-up blanket near the door. "I was in the park the other day, sleeping, and when I woke up, someone had taken all my stuff. I had a tent and clothes and about 280 bucks." I told him that really sucked. "Yeah, I had about five bucks left after that, so I used it to get drunk. I was pretty wasted when they rolled me in the park."
I kept waiting for him to ask me for some money but he never did. He just walked away with a "Take care, L'il Bro." Fifteen seconds later he was talking to someone else, and thirty seconds after that I saw him climbing into the passenger seat of the guy's truck and heading north.
When I got back on the bike and started pedaling south down Monroe Street toward downtown I realized how much safer it was on I-10. Monroe is an awful road with no shoulder and a lot more traffic than there was on the interstate. This is one of the better sections of the road - one where I at least felt safe enough to pull over and snap a picture.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
I negotiated my way to 90 and turned east. It was about lunch time so I pulled in to a random breakfast/lunch place. After I stopped, I noticed another touring bike leaning against the side of the building. That's REALLY coincidental - I'm not on the ACA route. And what kind of idiot would be riding on this road anyway???
I went in and sat down next to a young Asian guy. His English was very halting, and he had to look up basic words on a regular basis. Communicating was slow going, and we used a lot of hand gestures.
Over the next hour I learned that he's from Japan. His name is Akira Matsuoka. He's 22 years old and will be graduating from college in April 2009 with a degree in International Politics (I think). He already has a job lined up with an oil company and will be working in either Singapore or Houston. He added that in Japan most people who finish college don't work in their fields of study. (Or at least that's what I THINK he said, and it wasn't in those words.) He flew into Jacksonville four days ago and plans to bicycle to San Diego.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
I wondered how in the world he was going to make it all the way across the country not being able to speak English very well, or understand it.
Then I learned that he's doing it without the benefit of the ACA maps. He'd never even heard of the Adventure Cycling Association... he just bought a map of the Southeastern United States and was working his way across. (Not even a Florida map, just the Southeastern USA) I REALLY wondered how he was going to make it without speaking the language, and with a poor set of maps.
Then I learned that he doesn't have a tent, and has been sleeping outside. OH MY GOD!! When I asked him how he manages to do that, he said, "I endure."
Okay Klaus, this guy is making you and me look like 12-year-old girls. Soft.
Our waiter, Marcus, bought our lunch today. He said that since we're biking all the way across the country, it's the least he can do. Erin, also pictured, was a waitress.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
Interestingly, Akira met Joe and Robin a few days ago. Small world.
I gave him six of my seven ACA maps, keeping the one I'm using now. I won't be needing them, and I know he could sure use them.
Eventually, it was time to get back on the road. I thought of his inability to speak English, the mountains we had crossed which were cold then and will by now have snow on them, of his lack of gear... I hated leaving - I felt like I was abandoning him to his fate. The guy doesn't know ANYthing.
He reminds me of a guy I know who took a trip in 1982. It was his first trip, too, and he didn't know anything, either. If you want to see where he went, just look at the red dots on the top right of this page.
We said our goodbyes and I asked him to email me when he got a chance.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
I saw my first alligator today. It was about a foot long and about five inches wide. Unfortunately, it was only about the height of three sheets of typing paper, and had tire marks on its back.
Highway 90 wasn't a great place to ride. No shoulders and too many cars.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
I got back on the ACA route in Monticello. Adventure Cycling has done a lot of research on these routes. When I get off the route, it's almost always a bad road... no shoulder, lots of traffic, etc. Back on the route, I had everything but a tailwind. Hmmmm, maybe I should write to them....
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
This is a picture of a house which has been overgrown with kudzu, a "pest weed." Kudzu was brought into the US from Japan. The Soil Conservation Service encouraged farmers to plant it in order to help prevent erosion. Climate conditions are perfect for it in the south and, since it has no natural predators, it began growing rampantly.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
Lost cropland and controlling the growth costs about 500 million dollars annually.
Uhhh, I don't know... I just took the picture.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
As I was riding into Greenville, my stop for the night, a guy started chasing me and yelling for me to stop. He had been standing in a crowd with four or five other guys on the other side of the street. The one sprinting towards me was a black guy of about twenty, and his pants were hanging so low that apparently the only way he could keep them up was by holding them up by the crotch.
He asked me where I started, where I was going, then asked for some water from my water bottle. "Mmmm, that's DAMN fine water." I got the bottle back, took a drink and agreed. He asked for another drink and repeated his comment on the fine quality of the water. I concurred. We're quite the converstionalists. Then he asked me for money. When I said no, our stimulating intellectual conversation ended and he took off.
Two blocks later I pulled my bicycle onto the porch of the only place to stay in Greenville. Thirty seconds later it was raining.
In other parts of the country, when there's a twenty percent chance of rain it means that, given the current weather conditions, it's rained two times in the last ten. I'm starting to learn that in Florida, a twenty chance of rain means it's going to rain twenty percent of the day.
The only place to stay in Greenville is the Grace Manor Inn, a Bed & Breakfast.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
I don't know if it's because I'm on a bike, because people feel sorry for the dumb guy, or if it's just the off season, but I've been getting discounted rates at almost every place I've stayed.
At the inn, I was surprised to find Hewes, Susan, and Paul. Yesterday was a short day for them, having pedaled from Quincy to Tallahassee. They followed the ACA route today, taking them a roundabout sixty miles to get here.
We had a nice supper together, cooked by our host, Brenda Graham.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
Brenda is originally from Kentucky. She got tired of corporate life and decided to "retire" to South Carolina or Florida. After doing some online research, she found this place. When she drove down and saw it, she immediately fell in love with it. She and her husband bought it four years ago. She was all set to live happily ever after.
Two years after they bought it, her husband died.
Since then, she's been running it on her own... the repairs, the billing, the cooking, the whiny visitors. It's been a lot of work, an ENORMOUS amount for one person, but so far she still loves it. She likes the pace of living in a small town, and the townspeople have adopted her.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
I'll be riding with Hewes, Susan, and Paul tomorrow so I went to bed early knowing they'll want to leave early.
I drifted off wondering where Akira was sleeping tonight.
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| From mark on a bike 08 3 |
66.69 miles
13.3 average
29.7 maximum
4:58:57 time
2599.7 total
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