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