Gator Country Hell Week Day 3: Fog Gets In Your Eyes

Some folks think that long-distance cyclists live in a fog. While there may be some truth to the sentiment, it was also positively true this morning that all of us were not only living in a fog, but also riding in one.

We awoke to chilly temps in the 40s, along with a dense fog that had settled in just before dawn. Fog is not at all uncommon during Florida's brief bouts of winter. Even though a front had slid through yesterday drying things out, "dry" is a relative term here.
And so we rode in the fog.

The sun was strong and started to heat the air quickly, but the fog persisted until shortly after 9:00am, meaning much of the distance to the first sag was spent peering over misted eyewear looking for obstacles and vehicles.

Shortly before that sag, though, the sun broke through with one final shout of victory, sending the fog to the stratosphere. Blue skies and 70s quickly became the order of the day, with light and variable winds doing nothing but occasionally cooling our warm bodies.

The route was amazingly traffic-free most of the day. Shortly after pedalling through historic downtown Avon Park we lost sight of civilization, the fog our only companion. The windy country lanes were ideal for cycling, and once the fog broke, we could see the beauty on each side of the road. Lakes and streams dotted the central Florida landscape.

About 40 minutes after sag #1 we pedalled along idyllic Lake Wales (in the city with the same name), passing the historic site of the lunch stop on the old Day 6 route. The lake was still up from all the hurricane activity. We rode past many stately lakeside mansions, and then along the old road leading south out of town. Quaint old motor inns speckled the city streets of Lake Wales, harkening to a long-gone era of far simpler (and much slower) auto travel.

Lake Wales also presented us with the first real hills of the tour, and were a welcome change of pace for all. Scenic Bok Tower stood to our right as we entered town, overlooking much of Polk County from its high perch. The rolling hills south of town were covered in orange groves, the smell from the nearby juice factory lending to the authenticity of the moment.

South of town the terrain flattened out once again, and we headed deeper into citrus country. Lunch awaited at an abandoned country store near Lake Buffum, where Bena, Todd, and Kip met us on bike (they'll be with us through Day 6).

After more oranges than most of us have seen in a lifetime, we quickly transitioned to phosphate mining west of Fort Meade. More lonely roads awaited us, each one flatter than the one before. Occasional reclaimed mine pits on both sides of the road lay as testimony to the many years of mining in the area, but it seemed as if no one was working the mines today. Maybe it was the holidays, but no one seemed too concerned, as the riding was great. We had the roads to ourselves.

Sag #2 was just north of Brewster, a "town" that could be missed if you happened to blink at the wrong moment. From there we headed westward toward Nichols, and then north toward Plant City, day's end.

About 15 miles from the finish we left the mines for good and moved into the winter strawberry capital of the US. Plant City is the source for most strawberries in the US this time of year, and the vines on both sides of the road were filled with the luscious red berries.

The final push into town included a few miles of lightly travelled rural roads outside of PC, and then a about 5 miles of easy in-town travel to our lodging. All told we rode 109 miles, and winter became but a distant, foggy memory.

Kind of like this morning.

Dr "Strawberry Fields Forever" Gerlich