Gator Blog: Day 4 The 2006-2007 Tour

"That'll be $6 to share your meal."

So said the waiter last night at the Red Rose Tea Room at the Ramada Inn in Plant City.

So Lauren D. (Boulder) and Todd S. (Lexington) ponied up the extra money to share a large plate of spaghetti. Swank restaurant notwithstanding, I suppose it's easy to get just a little sarcastic over unwarranted charges.

Little did the poor server know that he would become the butt of all our jokes today.

"Hey Todd, you wanna split a burrito? That'll be six bucks."

And so the jokes continued as we pedaled from Plant City, around Lakeland, and then onto the fabulous Van Fleet State Trail, a wide paved multi-use path running north-south through the Green Swamp in the middle of the state.

From the sounds of things early in the morning, everyone was looking forward to an easy day. But just put a bunch of cyclists together, and in no time flat someone throws down the gauntlet.

And so we were off once more, sweat dripping off our brows, sun continuing its bronzing effect on our exposed skin.

This being a Sunday, traffic was virtually nil (except around churches...but more on that later). We all made great time around Lakeland, took our first break at the intersection with US 98, and then headed east on Rock Ridge Road for the bike path.

The path itself was awesome. It's so nice to unplug and just ride without a thought (except for keeping an eye out for gators, snakes, and giant tortoises, that is). Ten miles of pure cycling bliss...that's what it was, and with a tailwind on that section, no one complained.

The route today actually is a bit strange, as it has all four directions in it (thus guaranteeing some headwind stretches), but ulimately dives north and west toward the intersection of FL Rt 50 and I-75 east of Brooksville. A "short" day (97.5 miles) had everyone thinking "easy day." It's amazing how anything even minutely less than 100 is seen as "just another ride."

But I digress.

Shortly after exiting the bike path we had our second provider of joke fodder in 24 hours. Last year the crew had set up lunch on the spacious lawn of a rural Missionary Baptist Church. But this year our Day 4 landed on Sunday, meaning the building was filled with parishioners.

The crew had everything set up on the far side of the acreage of this church, when all of a sudden two men carrying huge Bibles (with the big gold letters on it) came out to evict them.

In the Name of the Lord, I presume.

I know...we were just dropping in, we were all sweaty, and we hadn't asked permission. But the swift eviction these men handed down just did not speak well of the Christian name this church professed.

So the crew packed everything up and drove down the road to an orange grove a short distance hence, whereupon they fixed burritos. And there was no charge for sharing.

Between the $6 jokes and numerous putdowns of our rural "Christian" friends, we rode on...down quaint Tuscanooga Road, through Center Point, and on to Webster for the afternoon rest stop.

Where the love bugs were out in force.

Nothing like a bunch of smelly cyclists to stir up a swarm of pesky insects. I suppose that was all well and good, because they caused us to not linger long. And so we were off for the final leg, a series of quick turns that took us up and over I-75, past the Florida National Cemetery, and over the Withlacoochee River.

And then the final punch home: 9 miles on the Withlacoochee State Trail, yet another of Florida's incredible bike paths. More or less shielded from the wind by dense forest, we made quick time of it and arrived at our destination earlier than we have yet on this trip.

Four days...408 miles...abundant sunshine. We wouldn't split it with you for $6, or $6000. You'll just have to come experience it for yourself next year.

Nick "Happy 2007!" Gerlich

Gator Blog: Day 3 The 2006-2007 Tour

They say that three time's a charm. Well, we've had three great days in a row on Gator Hell Week, and right now everyone is saying the weatherman is charming.

Chalk up another victory for the local Chambers of Commerce, for sunshine and 80s in December is what they love to see. It draws tourists to the Sunshine State. You can almost hear the kaching of cash registers statewide growing fat with money.

Of course, none of us are growing fat, for we are melting away the pounds. The longest day thus far, Day 3 took us 109 miles from near Avon Park to Plant City, now a suburb of Tampa. And let's not forget the benefits of a tailwind, for we had one much of the day.

I am particulaly fond of many of the roads we used on today's routes, especially the sections in and around Lake Wales. I've been cycling there since 1984. My father-in-law still lives nearby, so through the years I've been able to get to intimately know those roads.

Mile after mile of orange groves make for splendid lonely cycling. The hills around town help your pulse elevate a tad. And the scenic loop around the actual Lake Wales affords refreshing scenery.

The Garmin GPS topped 220 feet twice today, once on the north edge of Lake Wales (near Bok Tower), and then again after lunch on the ridge atop which sits Lake Hendry Road. Al Gore may prophesy global warming and rising oceans, but it's going to take a lot of warming (and melting) to ever wipe out this part of the state.

In a rather abrupt land-usage change, as soon as we rolled through Fort Meade we left behind the citrus-rich rolling hills and traded them in for phophate strip mining. Huge chemical companies there operate massive machinery to extract this mineral that will more than likely wind up as fertilizer on our lawns. The numerous lakes along the afternoon route had a surreal
manmade quality to them, which is bcause they are. Reclaimed and replanted, the old mine pits become new homes for the abundant waterfowl in the region.

And no doubt alligators.

As abruptly as we transitioned into phosphate country, we left it behind and experienced strawberry fields forever nar Plant City. The winter strawberry capital of North America is right here, and my parents obliged us by delivering six quarts of the luscious berries. If only we could transport some of that overpowering scent and take it with us for the rest of the week!

The weatherman forecasts warm weather continuing for the remainder of the trip, but with chances for scattered showers on Tuesday and Wednesday next week. While no one wants to ride in the rain, a warm rain still trumps a cold one any day of the week.

And with the red arms and legs that many of us are sporting right now, a few clouds might not be a bad idea.

Gator Blog: Day 2 The 2006-2007 Tour

Very few people have actually seen Lake Okeechobee. At 12 feet above sea level, it is one of the largest inland seas in North America. But there is a 30-foot-tall dike surrounding the lake, rendering it invisible from all nearby roadways.

Except that the State of Florida has slowly been building a paved bikeway atop that dike that will one day stretch for over 100 miles.

Today we started our ride from Clewiston by climbing on top of the dike and riding the path for 15 miles to Moore Haven, and in the process got to catch a glimpse of the lake. In spite of several hurricanes in recent years, the lake is still beneath historic levels, and thus does not extend all the way to the dike.

That paved path set the tone for the rest of the day, for we had nice shoulders on all highways thereafter. Riding was simple (there were only a handful of turns today), and the sunshine and warmth were abundant. Were it not for the calendar to remind us, it felt like summer.

Some 98 miles later, our route finished in Avon Park. Along the way we "climbed" to the central Florida highlands, all the way to 148 feet above sea level. The tailwind that pushed us most of the last 40 miles made that little climb a piece of cake.

Earlier in the day our route took us through the Brighton Seminole Indian Reservation, complete with casinos. The only thing that separates the Brighton Seminoles from Las Vegas would be about 125,000 tourists, for it seemed that no one was interested in gambling...or even being in the neighborhood for that matter.

Which was all fine and dandy with us, because we took over the roads and held sway over the turkey vultures interested in whatever happened to lay along the roadside.

Today we got to see some of the old Gator route, except today we were headed in the opposite direction. Some of the "repeat offenders" on the ride quickly had a deja vu experience as we stopped once again in quaint little Lorida, Florida, for our afternoon sag. We then followed Arbuckle Road into Sebring, and followed the new parkway over to US 27 for the final three
miles to our night's lodging outside of Avon Park.

Even though this is the second day into the trip, everyone rode much faster today than on yesterday's opener. I think it was the absence of headwind. Overall, everyone's time was about an hour faster today. And that winter tan is coming along quite nicely, thank you. Sunscreen notwithstanding, we are beginning to look like Floridians. Our goofy trademark cyclist tanlines are returning to their normal summer boldness.

And given what's happening with that big winter storm out west, I think that's something we're all thrilled to be seeing.

Nick "Weather Is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful" Gerlich

Gator Blog: Day 1 The 2006-2007 Tour

Sometimes it just ain't fair for a few folks to enjoy all the good weather, while the rest of the nation deals with snow up to their eyeballs, cold weather, ice, and wind.

I'm talking about Florida, of course, and Gator Country Hell Week. Now celebrating its 10th annual rendition, GCHW rolled out of Fort Myers this morning and headed east on extremely flat roads, bound for Clewiston. A total of 20 riders are on the tour, with some here for the whole ride, and others in for 4 or 5 days. All told, the route covers 8 days, 800 miles, and all the great cycling that exists between Fort Myers and Orlando.

While there was a moderate head wind all day, there was really little to grumble about because temperarures topped out in the low-80s. Brilliant sunshine guaranteed that everyone got a good start on the coveted winter suntan.

The route today was about as flat as flat gets. We never exceeded 40 feet above sea level. We all had to remember to stand up on the pedals periodically just to stretch a little; otherwise, it was one pedal revolution after another, while our eyes watched for gators in the paralel ditches (Jen S. from Chicago did spot one, but I have to wonder how many spotted us that we did not see).

A rest stop in Lehigh Acres and lunch in Labelle took us to the halfway point, with two crossings of the Caloosahatchie River (a whopping 6 feet above sea level). Afterward we moved on to extremely remote south Florida, being passed occasionally by trucks loaded with either oranges or cut sugar cane. The smell of burning cane filled the air, giving our olfactory system something new to ponder. Quiet, lightly-traveled roads ofered us a chance to see the interior of Florida that most tourists don't even know exists.

A rest stop in the Middle of Nowhere gave us one last chance to fill bottles before the final push to Clewiston. The wind machine kept us in check, and eventually wore most of us down considerably. The final 7 miles on US 27 were a little tedious simply because we wanted to be done with the wind, yet we were all loving the weather so much no one dared complain.

The Hell Week Mother Ship (motorhome and cargo trailer) met us at day's end, whereupon we broke out assorted beverages. The iPod boombox blared Jimmy Buffett music, distinctly appropriate for this tropical climate. And while nearly everyone finished before 5, it mattered not, because as Buffett proclaims, it's five o'clock somewhere. And so we celebrated, refueled, and got ready for another warm day of cycling in Florida.

That's fair enough in my book.

Nick "Wish I Could Bottle Up This Weather" Gerlich