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