Of Covered Malls and Bridges

In southern Indiana, a place I called home for 8 years while plodding through graduate school and a long-term teaching gig at IU, there are 91 remaining covered bridges dotting the countryside. These relics from the past are quaint (if not rickety), and serve as a constant reminder of how things were done in the past.

Today there are hundreds of covered shopping malls dotting the retail landscape of the US. And I'm beginning to wonder if they will soon become relics and reminders of a bygone era.

Retailing is a dynamic concept, an ever-evolving means of bringing the goods to us. The result is that there are new spans that reflect the latest in engineering and technology.

And there are covered bridges.

The enclosed mall as we know it may very well be on the verge of becoming a covered bridge. While covered malls have been popular in the US since the 1960s, customer tastes have changed and retail formats have evolved.

To wit: The latest trends are the "lifestyle center" and "town center" formats. Both are exceptionally pedestrian friendly and open-air. The former is typified by centers with two or more "anchors" and then adjacent rows of strip centers with boutiques, specialty stores, and restaurants. Parking is in little rows along the front sides of these shops, allowing customers to park curbside near their destination.

The latter take the idea one step farther and eliminate the parking between the shops, making for long strips of stores that face one another much like a downtown shopping district, with a concrete commons area between them. Outdoor cafes, park benches, and fountains dot the area, creating an atmosphere that beckons people to come and stay awhile.

Last November an Alabama developer announced plans to build a lifestyle center called The Shoppes at Southpointe along I-27 at the Hollywood Road exit. The site plans shows a tapestry of shops, parking, and pedestrians in an interesting maze of development on 100 acres.

Owners of enclosed shopping malls have lots to fear, in spite of what the management at Amarillo's Westgate Mall says. The elements are not to be feared as much as they would like, and shoppers are yearning for a fresh shopping experience that doesn't have the stuffy, stale, claustrophobic feel of a jet airliner.

So fearful of these new centers are these mall owners that some are buckling and doing whatever they can to create hybrid malls that try to appeal to customers who might want to head for greener pastures.

For example, the Edison Mall in Fort Myers FL is converting one wing to a lifestyle center, essentially flipping some stores so that they are accessible from the outside of the mall. Mall developer Westfield is busy converting 25 of its 68 US properties into hybrids that feature a lifestyle section. Their Westfield Shoppingtown Mall in Brandon FL just announced a 150,000 sq. ft. addition that will feature a Dick's Sporting Goods along with trendy shops and upscale restaurants.

While there is still much local debate over whether Amarillo can support its older mall, Southpointe and a new "power center" to replace Western Plaza, there is no doubt that change is on the horizon for shoppers. And Westgate Mall management needs to pull its head from the sand and face the music.

Because we don't need any covered bridges in Amarillo.

Dr "Mall Shook Up" Gerlich

Hell Freezes Over

The denizens of Hell are searching for overcoats and ear muffs. Ice scrapers are nowhere to be found, and the local discounter is all sold out of space heaters.

In a meteorological event never witnessed before, Hell has frozen over.

Oh yeah...and the Canyon City Commissioners are, by virtue of a technicality, allowing a specific-use permit to be granted to Big Earl's Bar-B-Q and Taco House.

To sell alcohol.

Surely the devil himself is shivering. I thought I'd never see the day. In fact, if Hollywood were to ever produce a sequel to Footloose, I would hope they'd shoot it here because nothing would have to be changed to suit the story line.

A new chapter in the history of our fair city is about to be written. The Commissioners, through fluke or whatever, failed to rule against Big Earl's because they deadlocked 2-2. Another Commissioner was absent, which could have swayed the vote one way or the other. His absence meant that a tie vote was in essence a vote of approval.

Last week the city's Planning and Zoning Commission had recommended this permit 4-3, and it would have taken a majority vote from the Commissioners to overturn it.

And so a sick daughter that caused a Commissioner to be absent from this milestone meeting is responsible for alcohol being served in Canyon TX.

Never mind that the Commissioners also denied a similar request (for the fourth time) to the Eagle Diner down on the square. The Commissioners acted predictably on this one, citing the proximity to the courthouse and First Baptist's Ministry Center. Let's make sure we allow religion to decide these secular civic matters.

A third alcohol request (oh my gosh, this city's going to the dogs!) was tabled because it is actually outside the domain of the city. The fate of Buffalo Southwest Cafe, which would be located on University land between the two new motels on East Fourth Avenue, must be considered by the A&M Board of Regents. It, too, would sell alcohol.

In all cases, a restaurant serving booze would have to be set up as a "private club," which is an euphemism for "hooray, we get to sell some beer!" There would be memberships, bylaws, and whatnot for these very important social groups, but really all it means is that they can sell what they want.

And Canyon residents and WT students can finally get a beer in town.

Good for us all, I say. Having grown up in Chicago, I was surrounded by taverns and liquor stores. You know what? It was no big deal. You were as likely to see the parish priest at a tavern as you were a family having Sunday dinner. The tavern is (and was) a community hall, a place where people gathered to talk, watch TV, debate politics, and have a drink or meal. And I think we could use a few more places like that.

I host a cycling camp each June in southwest Wisconsin, a place where the European influence runs deep. Each little town has several old taverns, even when there isn't a convenience store for miles. We stop in these taverns while on our long rides, buying Cokes, water, burgers, and even a beer or three. Visiting with the locals is often the highlight of the day as we get to taste a slice of their life.

So after 17 years of living on the High Plains, I still have problems with the prevailing mindset. Here's what I think: Those who would keep people from buying a drink are sorely deficient in one hugely important human trait: R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

That's right. Respect. It pains me greatly to see my fellow Christians (perhaps in name only) denying respect to their fellow man and woman. These people expect everyone else to bow to their ways of life. It would be like the Amish demanding we all get rid of electricity because they think it is sinful.

It's the same missing respect that caused a bunch of local dim bulbs to complain to local NBC affiliate KAMR-TV about the show The Book of Daniel. KAMR caved in and removed the show, thereby denying all other viewers access to this show.

I watched the inaugural episode of the show, and I agree that it stunk. But who am I to try to keep others from watching it? Sure, the highly dysfunctional Episcopalian priest's family was a stretch, but I saw nothing wrong with casting Jesus as a contemporary. For many modern Christians who carry Jesus around in their back pocket as if he were a good luck charm or something, this shouldn't be an issue. In fact, I thought the way they depicted Jesus was right on target.

Two thousand years ago the first recorded miracle of Jesus' ministry was his turning water to wine at the wedding feast in Cana. And not just one bottle, mind you. He made between 100-120 gallons of the stuff. Holy cabernet! And he made the best wine of the evening, stunning the host of the feast.

Maybe, just maybe, Jesus has come to Canyon and turned our dusty, dirty water to wine and beer. Sacrilegious? I don't think so. There's a huge difference between imbibing and drunkenness. Jesus understood the importance of relationship, and didn't get hung up on the legalism the Pharisees lived for. Jesus knew that the legalists were missing the point. It's hard to be in right relationship with the Father when you're not in right relationship with His people.

Now that Canyon's Pharisees have been dealt a swift blow, maybe we can see the point once more. There is one thing I've wanted to do ever since I came here. And that's be able to share conversation with students over a beer. I saw this all the time at Indiana U, where profs and students would gather at Nick's Tavern (no, not mine!) for a cold one.

Come get me when Big Earl's opens. I'll buy the first round.

And we'll take up a donation for snow shovels in Hell.

Dr "Get Over It" Gerlich

Googling For Gold

In the short time that I have been blogging I have written about Google four times. There is no other company online or even within our culture right now that is more ubiquitous than Google. The company started by Larry Page and Sergey Brin has become our lifeline.

So this essay makes installment Number Five.

Last Thursday it was announced that Google was under pressure from the Justice Department to release search queries that were being made. This is being done in the interest of national security.

And Google politely declined. After all, their corporate motto is "Do No Evil." They contend that the information is not only private in terms of its users, but also proprietary in terms of the company.

Which begs the question of what exactly Google knows about you. And the answer is pretty simple: A lot.

As it turns out, while Microsoft was scrutinized a few years ago for controlling your computer, Google was quietly finding its way into your machine. The result is that Google knows just about everything about you.

If you have a Gmail account, your mail is stored on their server until you delete it. Google "crawls" your mail to try to match keywords for its advertisers, resulting in those text ads you see alongside your mail.

If you use Google's personalized homepage option, you invite the company to track even more about you, such as your interest areas.

And by just simply using Google as a search engine, your every move is still being compiled. It takes only one mouseclick to access your complete Google searching history. Thanks to a cookie placed on your machine, you are identified (at least your machine is) every time you place a query.

Have something to hide? Better be careful, or at least learn how to delete certain things from your Google history.

Author John Battelle, in The Search: How Google and Its Rivals Rewrote the Rules of Business and Transformed Our Culture, says that Google represents the "database of our intentions." If we are searching for something, it must be important to us.

Google reveals a lot of these things in its Zeitgeist page. The very pulse of our culture is measured by Google, reflecting what is important to us at a certain time (Joe Pichler was the top query a week ago).

The movie Hoodwinked is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. The premise is that there is more to a story than meets the eye. "Before you judge a book by its cover, you've got to flip through the pages," as the investigator says.

Which explains why the Justice Department wants to flip through the pages of Google.

I applaud Google's resistance, even though Yahoo! and MSN have already abided by the feds' requests. There has to be some degree of privacy in our searches, and in this post-911 era there is just a little too much fear and hysteria for me to feel comfortable.

It's one thing that Google even collects all this information. It's quite another when the government steps in and demands that Google fork it over. After all, we choose to use Google in the first place. If we don't want our search queires, email, preferences, etc., being indexed by them, then we don't have to use their services.

But to have your information (however anonymously the government may say it would be parsed) eavesdropped upon by the government is something none of us bargained for.

I have nothing to hide, but that doesn't mean I want to live and work in a transparent environment.

Dr "Google Yourself" Gerlich

Middle Ground

I've spent my whole life in the heartland of America. I grew up listening to midwest bands like Styx, REO Speedwagon, Chicago, and Cheap Trick, and then while at grad school at Indiana U, became a big fan of local rocker John "Cougar" Mellencamp.

Midwest blood runs through my veins, and its songs are still earworms inside my head. For the life of me, I could never quite figure out why people ever became enamored of either coast. Unless you have gobs of money, the coasts are expensive, crowded, and decidedly unfriendly.

And so I was pleasantly surprised to read here that more and more folks are leaving their oh-so-trendy coastal digs for the simple life of the midwest.

Where land and houses are still cheap. Where the air is clean, a trip across town doesn't take three hours, and Mellencamp's "Little Pink Houses" is more than just a song but still a way of life.

I don't think the movement toward the middle is limited to just the geographically-defined Midwest, but also includes the Great Plains states, ranging from Texas all the way north. I don't think it will be long before west coasters "discover" Amarillo is but 17 hours from LA on I-40 and I-15, or a quick hop and a jump on Southwest via jet.

Compared to LA, Amarillo must seem like a fire sale bargain. My friends there bemoan their cracker-box homes that run over $750,000 for 1000 sq. ft. I laugh and tell them it takes me six hours to run the tractor over my lawn, and that I could easily put a few dozen of their suburban cubes on my land.

Just last Sunday we visited friends in Florida who, when they found out we are "only five hours from the Rockies," stood there with jaws wide open wishing they had the same proximity as do we. Never mind that there's not a whole lot of anything else between here and the Rockies.

With travel of all forms relatively easy and still, believe it or not, cheap, it really doesn't much matter where one lives these days. Technology allows us to work from anywhere (I'll actually be on the road several times this semester, but you'll never know it). Why not live where money stretches a lot farther?

And so we will likely continue to see growth in our nation's heartland. Cities like Amarillo, Oklahoma City, Kansas City, Omaha, Des Moines, and others will not exactly be bursting at the seams, but they will see spikes in their population. And the local cultures will be infused with new ideas along with these new people.

Life is good here in the middle. We can see both ways to the east and west, but at the same time appreciate the somewhat slower pace of life (and inflation).

Now let's not tell everyone, OK?

Dr "Middle of the Road" Gerlich

Behold The Burger Meister

USAmerican icon McDonald's is the epitome of what it means to be an American. International consumers around the globe flock to McDonald's in their country as if they were not just eating lunch but also somehow tasting a few morsels of American culture.

While in China four years ago I noticed people flocking to McDonald's to buy a Big Mac meal (sandwich, fries, Coke) for 17 RMB (about $2.15US), which while cheap by US standards, represented a huge portion of most Chinese worker's weekly wages.

Maybe it was the thought of eating under the golden arches in the shadow of a smiling plastic Ronald McDonald statue that allowed people to temporarily escape their sitz im lieben (life setting). Maybe it was just a nice departure from years on end of noodles, rice, and vegetables.

Or maybe they just wanted to get fat like us.

Meanwhile, back in the US, sales at McDonald's were starting to head south. In fact, by March 2003 McD's stock price had tanked at historic lows. This caused the company to awaken from its slumber and try to figure out what was going wrong. And so it started doing what many would consider to be the antithesis of McDonald's and its burger-laden menu: it started adding more salads and chicken items. In summer 2005 it launched a fruit salad (pears, grapes, apples, with a low-fat yogurt dip). It has added white-meat chicken sandwiches. Campbell's Soup is available as a side dish.

And they even made an adult Happy Meal that came with a pedometer.

By early 2006 sales had rebounded, and the stock price has tripled. Execs are happy, because people are coming back to the Golden Arches.

Credit is given to the new menu items (click here for the article) for reviving sales. But ironically, the company contends that burgers are still its mainstay. In fact, any casual observer would be hard-pressed to find others buying these healthier items. McD's confesses that the "80-20" applies to them: 80% of sales are accounted for by 20% of the product items.

In which case, that means burgers and fries.

So how could all those healthier new items be padding the bottom line?

Easy. Those new items broaden the appeal of a restaurant like McDonald's. Imagine yourself in a group trying decide where to eat. If there's one health freak in the bunch, their diet can trump anything. And there's often one in every group.

I speak from experience. I've been the resident health freak among my peeps for many years, and since my friends are respectful, they try to accommodate me as best they can. Which means we don't go to most fast food places, BBQs, or steak joints. Unless they have something healthy on the menu.

Thus, the new healthier items allows McD's to appease the resident health freak, and allow the whole group to dine. The result is that the rest of the group orders what they would normally buy (burgers and fries), while the healthier items are available for those who are cautious.

Great marketing!

While I am still not impressed with the healthier items McD's has offered, I do salute them for waking up and recognizing that the health freak is the one driving the car, so to speak. Satisfy him or her, and the whole group can eat there.

McDonald's has certainly seen its share of troubles lately. Morgan Spurlock's Super Size Me didn't help any. But the corporate giant has turned on a dime and is moving in the right direction. If they keep improving, maybe I'll even give my nod of approval and stop by.

As for those Chinese tripping over themselves to get a Big Mac, I can only hope they realize the folly of their ways. Their native menu is so much healthier than McDonald's. They just don't realize the magnitude of their trade.

For two bucks they can do a lot better.

Dr "Health Freak" Gerlich

At A Distance?

A funny thing happened on the way to the electronic classroom.

In spite of our initial plans, analysis, and whatnot, students who live as close as a few hundred yards of a classroom are taking online classes. We never saw it coming.

Back in 1997, when WTAMU was first developing WTOnline (and I was preparing to be the second online prof in the fall semester), we figured that online courses would be a great way to help students who live in Dalhart, Borger, Pampa, and the extreme outlying areas, as well as perhaps recruit new students from downstate or elsewhere.

And we accomplished that with no problem.

But a few years ago we began noticing a chance in the geodemographics of our online students. In addition to students who were truly at a distance, we observed hordes of students (hmmm, imagine an electronic horde...) from within a 25-mile radius signing up as well.

We didn't know what to think.

Having been in this thing for nine years, I think I finally have it figured out. Online classes are not as much about distance learning as they are lifestyle learning. It's not just distance that separates students from classrooms, but also complicated 21C lifestyles that find people trying to cram 28 hours worth of activities into 24.

While some within the university community are still aghast at the notion of students in dorms taking online classes, I'd like to point out that convenience is of paramount importance to all of us. Life is seldom compartmentalized into the traditional 8-5 time capsule that once characterized the American living pattern.

Instead, life is 24-7. Research I have done with colleagues has shown our online students to be working 20-40 hours per week, which doesn't leave a lot of time for attending class. But if you can take a class or three online, suddenly things look better. You can get an education, work hard to pay for it, and be better off in the long run.

The irony is that at universities across the nation (including WT), traditional campus courses are also morphing into pseudo-online classes themselves. My MKT3342-01 and MKT4344-01 courses may be "on the land," but they also use the WTOnline system as the primary means of delivery for content, communication, and testing. We just happen to meet for class as well.

A recent report at FoxNews.com bears this out. There is an incredible blurring of college classes going on right now, with the old-fashioned traditional campus class with only live prof-student interaction becoming a dinosaur.

Faculty and administrators who bemoan online classes had also better tread carefully. If a university is to remain customer-centric it must abide by the needs, wants, and whims of its students. To speak poorly of online classes is tantamount to saying that one of your products stinks.

And that's just not smart marketing.

The universities that will prosper in the future will offer a broad array of both online and hybrid campus courses, and will promote both as being high-quality means of receiving an education. Faculty who understand the technology as well as their discipline can leverage both to create learning communities that can do far more than the classroom of old.

Rather than being well-preserved reflections of the past, universities and faculty must be reflections of the future. After all, we're not supposed to be navigating through the rearview mirror with our foot on the brake.

No, we should be looking through the windshield and flooring it.

Dr "Farsighted" Gerlich

Make Room For China

When we were in China in February 2002 to adopt our youngest daughter, Bailee, I did not see many private cars being driven. We visited three good-sized cities (Shanghai, Changsha, and Guangzhou), but most of the cars I saw were little red Chinese-built Volkswagen Santanas used as taxis.

Every once in a while I would spy a Buick or Audi (also made in China) driven by one of the few elite, but nearly everyone else rode clunky 80-pound bikes.

Much has changed in China in four years. According to Thomas Friedman, author of The World Is Flat, Beijing alone is witnessing 1000 new cars on its streets each and every day.

In other words, China is fast-forwarding from pedal power to automotive muscle, skipping scooters and motorcycles entirely, and doing it in the blink of an eye.

So it should come as no surprise that Chinese automobile manufacturers are springing up. While the Buick and Volkswagen factories in Shanghai may havehelped pave the first few meters of highway, the Chinese are taking over and working 'round the clock to catch up with the west.

And I mean that literally.

At the North American International Auto Show in Detroit, the Chinese made their presence known. In all likelihood, it sent shivers up and down the spines of USA's Big Three automakers headquartered right down the block.The Geely (pronounced Jee-ly) entered the show with little fanfare, and had only a simple booth with a rather basic four-door sedan. The car itself is nothing to write home about, as we've already had a pretty hefty does of boring econoboxes ever since the late-1970s.

No, the news was that this car, to be introduced in the US in 2008, will come in at under $10,000. Can you say unemployment?

Geely has been making cars in China since 1997, but its presence was a non-event. Until now. Suddenly it is grabbing headlines across the nation as the industry braces itself for the next Asian invasion.

The Japanese did it in the 60s and 70s. The Koreans did it in the 80s and 90s. And now the Chinese are going to do it in the 00s. Holy egg foo yung, Batman. Henry Ford must be turning in his grave. Maybe they should put seat belts in those things.

And that's not all. Malcolm Bricklin, the importer who brought us the Yugo in the 80s (we'll try to forgive this one) plans to import the Chinese-made Chery in 2007. The Chery will cost around $20,000 and compete with the likes of BMW and Mercedes Benz.

At a time when imports now comprise about 35% of all US auto sales, and Toyota is poised to topple General Motors within a year as the world's largest car manufacturer, news of these coming imports is rightfully sending shockwaves throughout the industry. And not only must the Big Three be worried, but also the Japanese and Korens who have built market share and factories in the US. If what the Chinese have done with every other product category they have entered is evidence, the Geely and Chery will forever change the face of how America drives.

Critics scoff that the Chinese will have quality control problems, the result of a low price and lack of experience building cars. But these critics do not understand how the Chinese have been overcoming these issues in every other product category they have touched. Their economy is developing at mach speed, and they do not need 100 years to mature like the Americans.

There is no denying that China's presence in our economy is far bigger than anyone would ever have dreamt even ten years ago. It will soon be our largest trading partner. The output of this emerging powerhouse is seen in every American household, and is not limited to just cheap toys and trinkets (e.g., Best Buy now sells Konka's 15-inch LCD television for a mere $212).

Wake up, everyone. China is moving in, and this time it's on four wheels. I say bring it on. Competition is good, and maybe the US auto industry will be forced to reinvent itself.

Dr "Where Can I Buy One?" Gerlich

Ho! Ho! Hold That Mouse!

My kids will never know what it was like.

Growing up in the digital era means that many things are done differently than when I was growing up. Way different.For example, in the "old days," Christmas shopping meant donning a pile of winter clothes and venturing out into snow and traffic and the crowded masses to fight through a merchant's wares. It mattered not if you were busy or had trouble finding what you wanted. You simply had to press on and keep looking until the job was done.

But things started changing in 1994 when the commercialization of the internet occurred. Suddenly the dotcom era was upon us, and URLs quickly transitioned from trendy handles for nerd-friendly firms to the calling card of every serious business. In July 1995 Amazon.com was born, the brainchild of Jeff Bezos, an investment analyst from Boston who packed up his wife and dog and drove to Seattle to start the online bookseller in his garage.

And Christmas shopping was forever changed.

Starting with a trickle, e-commerce has become a river nearly as wide as the name of its biggest player. This last Christmas e-commerce sales hit $30 billion, and that's not including airline tickets, hotel reservations, and rental cars. The jump was significant (about 30%) from last year's sales. Online sales now account for 27% of all holiday purchases, with catalogs garnering 5%. This leaves BAM (brick-and-mortar) stores with 68% of the kitty, down some 10% in the last three years. (Click here for the full report.)

I was a major contributor to that total, with over $2000 in online purchases made during the six-week Christmas selling period. Granted, not all of it was for gifts (unless you count me as both giver and recipient), but that matters not. The loot ranged from a new camera to his-and-her GPS units, digital video editing gear, DVDs, t-shirts, and a few other trinkets. Between UPS, DHL, and FedEx, delivery couriers wore parallel grooves in my driveway last month.

And I did it all from the comfort of my living room.

I stayed warm near the fireplace while offline customers braved Amarillo's cold spell the first half of the month, sipping hot apple cider and gleefully clicking away in my sweats. No traffic snarls. No unruly kids (or adults). No lines at the checkout.

But best of all, I had access to more goods than Amarillo could ever begin to offer.The shops I patronized were located literally coast to coast, meaning that I not not only saved lots of time shopping online, but also lots of gas money. And that's money you can then use to make your gift-giving go a little farther.

As for my kids, they will never endure the hardships we baby boomers suffered through years ago when our parents dragged us out in our latest winter garb to do battle with all the other eager shoppers browsing the shelves of the bazaars on Main Street USA. Our daughters already have an indentation in their right hand from too many hours gripping a mouse. I suspect when they are a little older and get their first Visa spending card they will follow their old man's trail of mouse clicks to whatever river has an online store named for it.

And they'll laugh when I tell them how, when I was a kid, we used to spend days and even weeks trying to complete our Christmas shopping.

"Sure, Dad," one will sneer. "And I'll bet you walked a mile to school each way through snow up to your waist. Uphill both directions, right?"

"Whatever you say, kiddo. Want some hot apple cider?"

Dr "Denial River" Gerlich

Gator Country Hell Week Day 8: The End Is Near...Or Is It The Beginning?

Our lives are like books, consisting of many chapters that comprise our comings and goings, the things we did, the things we didn't do, the twists and turns, the ups and the downs. Donald Miller said in Across Painted Deserts (2005) that when the Author is nearing the end of the story of our life, it will be like holding a book with the bulk of the pages in our left hand, and only a few pages of end notes in the right.

I like to think that when the Author of my book is finished, there will be hundreds of pages of great reading to the left, yet an equal number of blank, unwritten pages to the right. It's just that the ink ran out.

And so we all finished a chapter of our lives today as Gator Country Hell Week #9 came to a close. Always a bittersweet occasion for me, it feels so good to reach my destination, yet sad that the journey has drawn to a close.

Today's route is one that brings philosophical closure for me. The ribbon of cracked old pavement known today as Old State Route 8 stretches my imagination to envision a time in Florida predating federal highways like US 27 running parallel. The lonely Dietjens Dairy Road near Venus, with its numerous abandoned houses, conjures thoughts of what it must have been like to be a farmer during the Depression.

The sagging shell of the building that once housed the Venus store, where 9 years ago I sat in the enclosed porch and enjoyed a Coke while chatting with the elderly store matron, stands as testament to changing times. And the broken windows of the abandoned Palmdale Store fail to do justice to a building that once served weary travelers on the way to Miami.

We went way back...back in time, and back to where we started but one week ago.

The final 49 miles of our route are also the first 49 miles we rode last Wednesday. During those miles I reflected on the people I had spent the last 8 days with, most of whom were total strangers to me before we started. It was fitting to end our journey the way we started it, rewinding the tape, yet able to see it at the same time.

In these 8 days we went from a ragtag group of riders from all over the country, and came back a cohesive team having completed our singular purpose. The 49 miles went by way too fast, fleeting last moments with a flock of new friends about to scatter in the wind like the seeds in the cottonball of last week's dandelion.

I could tell at breakfast this morning that this day was different. There wasn't as much sense of urgency to get started. There were photos being taken. There was joking.

And there was a prevailing mood of camaraderie that knew it was about to come to a screeching halt.

As we rode the final 15 miles along the bike paths of Fort Myers, we kidded around and took more pictures. We rode slower. We savored the moment.

But more importantly, we congratulated one another for writing the final sentence of a chapter and putting the little dot at the end. With a fistful of pages in our left hand, we also clung to a bundle of blank pages in our right hand, ready to start writing more tomorrow.

On second thought, no, that wasn't a little dot at the end of that final sentence. Make that an exclamation point. A big, tall exclamation point. We made it! And the journey was good!

Dr "Chapter and Verse" Gerlich

Gator Country Hell Week Day 7: Wheels In The Wind

"Hey Nick, do you think it's gonna rain today?"

"Nah. It's supposed to clear up. I wouldn't worry about it."

Famous last words, right? Of course. Right from the start it looked like it would rain. The Weather Channel even showed a shower near Winter Haven to our east. But it was supposed to be sunny, just like the six days prior.

At least that's what we thought.

At 7:30 it was a balmy (and steamy) 73 degrees, with low clouds moving in quickly from the southwest. It was almost too dark for sunglasses, but we wore them anyway in a nod toward optimism.

As we headed out of Bartow to the south, we quickly realized this would be a wet day in more ways than one, for the dampness made our Lycra jerseys and shorts cling to our bodies. Sunscreen only caused the sweat to cascade down our legs like Niagara Falls.

The first 20 miles of our route today was actually a repeat of the last 20 miles of Day 1 on the old route, heading south through Fort Meade and across the Peace River. The gusty southwest wind kept our speed in check as we headed west to Bowling Green for the first sag stop.

The wind increased and the clouds built as we dug in to rural central Florida, rolling through Fort Green, Ona, and Limestone. Lunch was only a few miles away, and we were all ready for a break, having ridden 36 miles since the sag. And most of that was straight into the wind.

And then we noticed the squall line moving in from the west. No sooner had we said "Hey, it looks like it's going to rain," than it let loose with a torrent of liquid sunshine.

But it only lasted a few minutes, and after lunch at the Cracker Barrel (well, not really, it just seemed that way), we picked up the windshift and rode a glorious tailwind much of the way to Lake Placid. At times the tailwind was almost too generous, with our speeds topping 30 mph on some long, flat stretches.

One interesting thing about the new Gator Week route is the amount of utterly deserted country roads we travel. Many are like a time warp down some distant pre-tourist, pre-retirement center era. Today, for example, we crossed two old plank bridges, reminiscent of a distant bygone era.

And yet we were never more than 50 miles from beaches and high rise hotels.

The 50 miles from lunch to Lake Placid went by in a heartbeat, thanks to the generous wind. And no one complained, for today's route was the longest of the tour, topping out at about 115 miles. The four mile stretch along Lake June Road was a gorgeous finish to our ride as we entered Lake Placid from the north and west.

Following our ride we had a group cookout in the parking lot behind the Ramada Inn. It was one last time for everyone to be together before the finish tomorrow in Fort Myers, where some folks will head home immediately after the ride.

And while it did manage to rain for a few minutes today, it did not ruin our parade. Besides, I was right. Kind of, anyway.

It did clear up.

Dr "Ridin' The Storm Out" Gerlich

Gator Country Hell Week Day 6: The Answer Is Blowin' In The Wind

"Any chance we'll get a tailwind today?"

This was the question du jour, and each time I heard it, the answer was the same.

"No."

Once again, though, it was hard to find anything to complain about. Sure, the wind blew at 15-20 most of the day out of the southwest. Yes, our route stairstepped west-south-west for about 105 miles from Winter Garden to Bartow. And never mind the hilly orange grove region between Haines City and Lake Wales.

Yes, it was a tough day, but today was the warmest day of the tour yet. Starting with a morning low of 64, and quickly rising into the 80s, there was little need for the "Shed Clothes" box because we rolled out in summer attire.

Retracing the last few miles of Day 5's route, we quickly exited the Orlando area and made our way back to Clermont, where we took the obligatory touristy route past stately old homes lining the hilly side streets. After crossing Highway 50, we zoomed down the ridge and circled yet another lake before heading back out into the country.

The first sag stop was on Rt 33 after 28 miles, providing a chance to refuel before another 10-mile segment on the Van Fleet State Trail. The wind steadily picked up by mid-morning, but it just didn't seem to dampen spirits. The stroll west on Green Pond Road was like going back into 1950s rural Florida.

And then we got on the path where we could mentally unplug from reality.

Lunch was served picnic-style at the southern terminus of the trail, and after a quick brain check, we resumed our travel on roads. By 11:30 the wind had increased to the point that no one was moving as fast as they had been just a couple of hours earlier. It was a struggle to get to Haines City, where the downtown section gave a quick chance for a breather.

But then a mile east of town, the route turned due south into rolling hills and Mr. Wind. It was without doubt the toughest stretch of the tour thus far. The scenic beauty of endless citrus groves was lost on us as we kept our heads low over the handlebars.

Just north of Lake Wales and nearly in the shadow of Bok Tower, Becky and Mark set up the afternoon sag. With 75 miles behind us, we were all feeling more like we'd done well over 100. But the day was far from over, with a long, flat 50K to Bartow. Aside from a 3-mile section near Wahneta, it was nothing but headwinds and heat.

The final leg of the route slipped through Eagle Lake and onto Old Bartow-Eagle Lake Road, a frequently cycled lane in Polk County. Finally the stop light at US 98 came into view, signalling the motel was only a block away. And the end came not a moment too soon, as everyone was pretty whipped by the time they dismounted.

By some strange occurrence it seems that everyone's suncreen decided to quit working today. Perhaps it was the wind. Maybe it was our skin saying "I've had enough of this paleness."

Whatever it was, our group just looked a lot darker this afternoon than they did this morning.
Of course, a good tan will just make our tales all that more believable when we go home.

Tailwinds, no. But tan lines, yes. Wind and 80s trumps calm and cold every day of the week.

Dr "Farmer Tan" Gerlich

Gator Country Hell Week Day 5: Peas Baby Please?

It is a southern tradition to serve blackeyed peas on New Year's Day. But with the way the weather has been going, we decided to skip southern tradition. It just doesn't get much better than this, so what else could we ask for?

Today's route wiggled through central Florida from near Brooksville to Winter Garden, a suburb or Orlando. By car it's only about 40 miles from motel to motel, but we managed to put on about 111 miles (including the Sugarloaf Mountain option).

The day began with 23 miles on the Withlacoochee State Trail. This year's tour is the bike path tour, with about 100 miles charted over 8 different path systems throughout the state. The other 725 miles are on primarily lightly-travelled rural roads.

The trail today was calm and still, with almost enough humidity in the air to produce fog. But brilliant sunshine quickly put a nix on that, and the air quickly warmed on its way to 80 degrees by early afternoon.

The complexion of the tour has changed somewhat the last few days. Yesterday marked the first day for Glenn from Indiana, while Kristy and Jesse ended their half-tour option in Brooksville. Tomorrow Glenn, Kip, Bena, and Todd will wrap up their half-tour, and we'll be left with 22 riders for the final two days. Kip's brother, Elwood (aka Tim), is along in his truck taking in the scenery and lending a hand with baggage shuttling.

After we jumped off the path in Inverness we headed east on the recently-finished 4-lane segment of Rt 44, complete with a nice bike lane. We then flip-flopped between east and south, rolling through Lake Panasoffkee and Bushnell on the way to lunch at the abandoned fruit stand in Center Hill.

It is after Center Hill that the terrain starts to make a quick change to rolling hills. The first hill is on Simon Brown Road, with each successive road bringing more hills. They were a welcome change from over 400 miles of flat land thus far.

It's easy to understand why the area around Clermont is considered some of the finest for cycling in all of Florida. The alternating hills-and-lakes beneath the crystal blue sky are eye candy for winter-weary riders, and so the 28 miles from lunch to the afternoon sag in Minneola went by in a flash.

Becky and Mark had smoothies waiting for us at Sag #2, a perfect complement for the warmest day of the tour thus far. It was tempting to just sit in the grass and guzzle these frozen concoctions, but we still had 20 (or 26 if you took the bonus option) miles to go, including some short, steep hills on Grassy Lake Road.

This year Sugarloaf Mountain was not a requirement, this time providing a nice 6-mile bonus for those who still had a few little strength remaining. This steep hills ascends all the way to about 300 feet above sea level, which is almost above timber line in these parts.

After the bonus and regular routes rejoined, the road then led to Ferndale and Montverde, where some of us stopped for a brief unofficial third sag. The remaining 10 miles into town are fairly straightforward, with only a slight hint of orlando traffic. We had a short section on the West Orange Trail, with the remainder on quaint (and quiet) tree-shrouded city streets.

And so we ended Day 5 on another high note. While California is drowning in rainfall and Oklahoma and Texas are burning down, life is good here in Central Florida. Sunshine and 80-degrees on New Year's Day is an offer I just can't refuse.

All the blackeyed peas in the world couldn't top this.

Dr "Minding My Peas and Cues" Gerlich