A Ride from San Diego to Jacksonville Beach, Florida Spring 2018
Part One - San Diego to Phoenix –
Sitting there on Evan’s comfy couch in La Jolla just after Christmas I was struck with the strange thought of riding across the desert to Phoenix. I had brought my bike on this visit to San Diego and had just returned from a ride up the coast on the PCT and the thought of returning home to the cold and my tendency to want to sit on the couch and watch basketball all winter began to gnaw on me.
So, I began with a call-out to my friends who I might be able to cajole into riding with me. Alas, I had no takers.
Ocean Beach Pier 7:00 am
A lone fisherman form Bellingham, WA was there on the rock jetty to witness the takeoff and to snap a start picture of me. The weather was overcast and grey, but warm enough to break a sweat as I followed the bike trail through Fashion Valley along the San Diego River. I knew it was going to be a long slow all-day climb from the ocean up to 4000 feet at the top of the mountains east of San Diego…and I was in no hurry.
Leaving the jetty at Ocean Beach, CA
The climb out of Alpine was tough, and I was feeling my age and the fact that I hadn’t ridden my bike in months prior to coming to San Diego after Christmas. I made it over three peaks over 4000 up from sea level the first day. My winter legs were not very happy with me.
My goal was to get Jacumba Hot Springs and take a hot soak at the hotel there. I pulled in a little after dark, at 4:30 after doing 85 miles and I realized then that a very real issue with riding in late December, early January was going to be the short number of daylight hours I had to ride. But alas, the springs at the rustic hotel were closed for remodeling and I had to settle for a hot shower in my room.
The Adventure Cycling Route out of San Diego….and across the first desert
My intentions were good, and I got up about 7:00 and headed to the restaurant café for an early and hearty breakfast. But at this elevation near 4000 feet, and this time of year, the temperature in Jacumba Hot Springs was just above freezing. After realizing how cold it was I took my time eating and left the hotel about 8:30 with all of my clothes on that I owned. I knew that the long ride down to the valley floor was long, and at this temperature was going to be chilly.
To ride down the mountain pass you have to get onto Interstate 8 for a while, but since I was going 50mph I just rode in the right lane and only was passed by a few cars going down the long hill. At the bottom I stopped to take off a lot of clothes and returned to my small and lonely Highway 98 (think Route 66 but just along the Mexican border). Route 98 took me straight through to Calexico and on to Yuma where I was planning on staying with my friend Dennis’s mother-in-law at her winter escape trailer park.
My first experience at riding below sea level
The third day I had to ride on Interstate 8 quite a bit and made it to Gila Springs. Not much to say about that…pretty much rolling hills and flats. And getting off I-8 in Dateland I experienced my first flat of the trip. I was stopping anyway, but didn’t plan on fixing my tire during my rest stop.
The fourth day I arrived at my friend Mark’s parent’s house in north Phoenix and after a quick shower they took me to dinner and then to the airport for my flight back to San Diego. The four days I spent riding through the California desert was much more enjoyable than I thought it was going to be.
Part 2: Mid February – Lonely Desert Riding AZ, NM and West Texas
After a month and a half off, I've resumed my winter bike ride from San Diego to Florida. After flying to Phoenix I Ubered up to where my bike was patiently waiting in my friend’s garage. After a quick hello and goodbye I hurried out of town to the SE following many trails that follow along the myriad of canals that snake through Phoenix. The weather was in the 70s and I was really starting to see why so many people spend winters there. To me, Arizona is all beach and no ocean, which lessens its appeal to me.
I had arranged a stay at a Warm Showers host for the night in Apache Junction and it took me until dark to get there. The days were a bit longer than when I had arrived in Phoenix a month and half earlier, but still it was getting dark about 4:30. The next morning after about 10 miles of flat, it was pretty much a long steady and steep climb from Apache junction through the Superstition Mountains to Superior, Arizona. Again, my winter legs were barking loudly at me when I arrived in Globe late in the afternoon. I didn’t remember my legs ever feeling this tired in my entire life. The last few hills into Globe were done at a snails pace and getting off the bike and walking into the Itchy Inn Globe was a major effort.
Yesterday I rode thru all sixty miles of the San Carlos Apache Indian reservation. Not much out there except cactus and I'm guessing they were all very skinny Indians based on what there was to eat in this desert. These hills are still the home of the Fakowee Indians, which are a band of the Apache... They weren't very good navigators and got lost and wandered around the desert for hundreds of years. In the 1800s the white man found them and named them the Fakowee because all they always kept saying "where the fakowee?" HA!
Been on the road a total of eight days now (four before Phoenix and four after). I'll get to Texas tomorrow. Rode thru absolutely desolate desert the last couple days...119 miles yesterday, and 130 today and went thru only two towns all day. I had a really nice old-fashioned hotel in Columbus after arriving long after dark. Even though I rode over an hour through the desert into town with lights on, no cars passed me during that time.
The next morning I ate breakfast at Norma’s Mexican café and had her make a couple of Burritos for me to pack away as my lunch. It was about 70 miles to El Paso, Texas with no civilization of any kind along the way. My plan was to stop about half way for lunch and eat the Burritos and carry on. At about mile 35 I looked and looked for a rock, a log, or anything to sit on but found nothing. So, I pulled over and sat on the ground and rested and ate my burritos.
Welcome to no-man’s-land
The flattest continental divide I’ve ever seen!
El Paso wasn’t much to write home about….as a matter of fact it was probably the worst looking city I’ve ever been to in the USA. I had to remind myself repeatedly that I was on the north side of the Not-So-Rio-Grand!
Made it to Fabens, Texas for the night. It was a hard push thru empty desert with a strong headwind out of the SE, and then a hectic 20 plus miles get out of El Paso, and then another 20 thru peaceful farmland south of the El Paso suburbs.
After leaving Columbus, NM this morning there was not a house, a dilapidated old building, rest area, or any house or structure for 59 miles. I ate my Irma Cafe burrito ($3.25) where I thought exactly half way was at 35 miles out. I couldn't find anything to sit on so I just sat on the ground and ate.
El Paso was a busy place with lots of road construction... but I found a really good bike shop to air up my tires (they were only at 80) back up to 110 psi. I also replaced my rear Blinky light that must have fallen off today, cuz it was there last night. All in all, a pretty good 113 mile day over some pretty tough conditions.
Not much here in Fabens except farmland. There is the Itchy Inn, Fabens Texas where I am sleeping with about 10,000 little friends. I'll tackle the rest of Texas tomorrow in search of the best Cinnamon roll in Texas!
Friday evening blog.... Trusting that everyone has survived an interesting week.... It seems a lot longer ago than a week ago that I was in Arizona. With such vast distances the changes to the landscape and climate come slowly. The big difference today was the 15 mph wind changed course 180 degrees. Rather than coming out of the North as it has for several days, it's now blowing just as hard straight out of the south. Since I'm headed more or less SE, it's no bueno. The road surface however was much better and no flats!
Other changes on the way to my truck stop motel in Segovia, Texas (105 miles from Ozona, Texas) is that there is actually some green grass and a few trees, and most of the land is now smaller ranches with goats, sheep and deer. Yes deer….. The way they "hunt" deer in Texas is by putting an eight-foot fence around their ranch, feeding the deer corn for months and then inviting people into their pre-installed deer blinds to shoot their pre-installed herd.
But, I can tell I'm making progress another way. The people are really starting to talk really funny. I'm definently in the south now, not the west any more. I think I finally beat West Texas, but it wasn't easy. It was one of the most taxing rides mentally that I’ve ever done. The hills in this Central Texas "Hill Country" aren't much biking challenge at this point and actually break up the monotony.
Another highlight today was I found my first really good-looking fresh made caramel roll covered in locally grown pecans. I'm saving it for dessert, so I'll tell you how it was tomorrow. Also, after crossing many bridges over dry riverbeds the last 1400 miles, I finally crossed a really big River called the Llano near Junction, Texas. Yesterday I had ridden over the Pecos River but it looked like a small trickle of pea soup, no more than 5 feet wide.
Endless West Texas, frontage road along the interstate
Tomorrow I'm heading to Austin, where I plan on having dinner with Kurt Beck. I told him he owed me BBQ dinner for riding this far to see him.
I just arrived in Austin yesterday. West Texas was tough, and boring. It looks like it will be much more interesting from here on out. Austin is a great place to cycle and explore. I'm flying to Florida tomorrow to meet Rhonda and Nathan to hang out there for a week. I'll fly back to Austin in a month to finish my ride to Florida. Rumor has it that Austin was weird before Portlandia.... It's a great city to explore on a bike. I am having a lemonade in Mellow Johnnie's, Lance's bike shop.
My motel waffle this morning in Ozona, Texas at the Itchy Inn, Ozona Texas. They are even proud of their waffles in Texas!!!
It's not your eyes, the bike sculpture looks blurry cuz there are so many. I parked mine in front. Austin is awesome, and this is the coolest bike sculpture I’ve ever seen!!
After Austin about a Month Later
It all happened so fast, but took so long in the making, and yet that 200 foot long bridge meant so much... Just another bridge crossing of another river, and I was finally done with Texas.... all 988 miles of it. The Sabine River was not nearly as big as the Trinity River I crossed yesterday, but mentally it was a huge bridge to cross. Texas hadn't broken me, but West Texas had tried to. It did break my hand, but I got in a good left uppercut on her in the process. Before this trip I hadn't thought that Texas would be more than 1/3 of the miles of the entire trip across the country…..but it was.
As most of you know, I decided the day after Christmas when we were in San Diego that I didn't want to just sit around getting fatter all winter, so the next day I headed off on my bike for a four day jaunt across the desert to Phoenix. That part went quite well, the riding in the desert was nicer than I thought it would be, using small old highways that were built long ago... Think route 66, but right along the Mexican border. The days were short though, in the middle of the winter, and I had to hustle to get in 100 miles in between 10:00 am when it warmed up enough to ride, and five o'clock when it got dark.
I'm traveling light, with about 25 pounds of gear including bike. Staying in small town motels and Warm Showers host’s houses. (Think couch surfing for bicyclists) I decided in late Feb. to start out again from Phoenix. Crossing the Superstitious Mountains right east of Phoenix was tough, and endless miles of desert thru the rest of Arizona and New Mexico gave me plenty of time to decide I'm glad I live in the NW!!
For all you bikers out there... Unless you think that slowly pulling off your toenails is fun entertainment... I'd skip the whole West Texas 650 miles from El Paso to Austin... there is just nothing really good to say about it. Except the people were friendly and I was introduced to the "Don't Mess With Texas" mentality. The ditches may be full of garbage, but it's TEXAS garbage!!
I had planned on flying home from Houston to take care of some bid'ness (keeping the IRS off my back by doing taxes on time).... But about 100 miles West of Austin a front bike tire sliding in gravel threw me onto the road. I saw Texas coming up at me at a quite rapid pace, and all I could think to do is to fight since flight wasn't happening! The left hook landed solidly on Texas's cheek, but I think it hurt me worse that it did Texas. I decided that maybe it would be better to fly home from Austin. So the next day I rode the last 100 miles to Austin with a huge swollen left mitt to a town that is a virtual cyclist Oasis of Paradise in a giant desert of Big Texas Pickup Trucks.
I left my bike at a warm showers host's house in Austin and returned home. Then, just a few days ago on Monday afternoon I flew back to Austin and am continuing on biking to Florida.
I really wanted to make it across the Texas border yesterday but was 45 miles to the next motel or warm showers so I had to stop 24 miles short of the border where there was a motel. I had an hour of daylight left when I stopped, but needed at least two and half hours to get to de Ridder, LA, where I am enjoying lunch right now. The last two days I've taken a 270-mile bite out of Texas's right butt cheek.
The ACA map took me 130 zig-zaggy miles yesterday to the Itchy Inn Kirbyville. The day started out in rolling hills, which had been the norm all the way since Austin, and got flatter as I neared the border with Louisiana, with not enough wind to make a difference. The main industry here seems to be logging of all things. The tall pines forests grow quickly in the swampy land. The pines look like they grow 100 feet in ten years and are only six inches thick. I think they chip them up and make pellets. The Lush, very tall Forest took care of any breeze that was out there. Much of the pine forest was swampy and had standing water in all the ditches. Lots of snakes, possums, armadillos, turtles and frogs as road kill. My warm showers host a couple nights ago advised that I don't ride much after dusk, because the wild hogs and poisonous snakes come out to the road then.
I've never been to a place where the inhabitants show as much pride in all things Texas as they do here. What it comes down to is Texans are proud of being proud. A pile of dirt in Texas is way better than a pile of dirt anywhere else. It's one of the few states that was its own country at one point. (Can you name the other two?) That's where the pride comes from.
I just crossed over into Louisiana from SE Texas. Some east Texans consider themselves Cajun as you get closer to Beaumont and Louisiana. They call the forest I've been riding thru The Pine Curtain that's considered the cultural border between east Texas and the rest of the state. The local’s accents start to change, and I've had a hard time understanding some of them.
Since Austin it's been awesome riding weather, highs in the low 80s and low over night about 60. The road kill has changed from mostly deer and coyotes in West Texas to snakes, possums, frogs and armadillos.
More later.... I've got about 1000 miles to go and it doesn't get done with me during in this restaurant called Cecil's Cajun Cafe!! But it was an awesome lunch!
The Gulf Coast and Florida
Big States
It's no coincidence that California, Texas and Florida have by far the largest state populations.... From my perspective they are all large, beautiful and WARM, and are full of people that like beautiful and WARM places!!! Those three states combined have over 90 million people, which is over 25% of the nation's total! By contrast, it takes the least populated 31 states to add up to the same total. Besides all of the people that live in those three states, countless millions flock there to avoid winters back home. For me, this ride through the USA Southland has educated me about why so many people are here. I feel what it comes down to is that living life without winter is just a lot easier and people tend to take the path of least resistance.
As a biker, you can avoid the population centers almost completely. Obviously, you have to ride out of San Diego to get to the desert, but big cities like that generally have bike trails and lanes which makes it safe and easy. For a long biking trip, this has actually been one of the easier long distance rides I've done. The only really big mountain crossings were the first day out of San Diego and the first day out of Phoenix. The rest has been gently rolling hills, or just plain flat. Also, the riding has been made less strenuous because the highest temp has been only about 80 degrees. Many people along the way have commented that I'm doing it at just the right time of year.
If any of you bikers want a nice week or two tour, to avoid winter, either Austin to New Orleans, or New Orleans to the Florida Atlantic Beach coast would both be great biking trips. I've met about six bikers going my way and about six going the other way during this whole ride.
An Awesome Welcome to Alabama
The other day I rode about 30 miles with a recent college graduate from Wisconsin named Joe. This was his first big tour and was a graduation present to himself. While riding with him I got a flat tire and while I was fixing it when another biker named Rodger rode up behind us and asked if we needed anything. Over the din of the traffic I yelled out, "I could really use a floor pump", and Rodger said, "sure thing" and proceeded to pull one out of his bedroll. Rodger, at 68 years old, who you'd think was a homeless guy by looking at him,, said he never traveled without a floor pump! Rodger lives in Orlando, and said he rides his bike to Colorado and back every year!!! Not sure why Colorado though... But I'm sure glad he carries a floor pump!!
Cajuns, Creoles & Crawfish
Joe and I continued on together until 30 miles west of Mobile, Alabama he went Northeast into the city and I went Southeast to get to the car ferry that serves cars trying to get across Mobile Bay. About 20 miles from the ferry terminal I found out that the last eastbound ferry ran at 6:30... And it was already by 5:30! I had already ridden over a hundred miles at this time but evening rides were my favorite time to ride, so I put my head down and went into full time-trial mode to try and get the 20 miles to the ferry finished in under an hour.
The ferry terminal was right at the end of Dauphin Island and right next to the 1812 Fort Gaines that was built to protect Mobile Bay from intruding Spanish ships and later Yankee ships. I wasn't sure there was any place for me to stay the night on Dauphin Island if I missed the boat, so I pushed hard and made it into the boat...which then departed just one minute later!
On the other side of the Bay was Fort Morgan, which was the other half of the two fort Mobile Bay defense system. But because of my 20 mile Sprint I was out of food and water and was bummed to find out there was no store nearby on the far side for six miles and no motel for 22 more miles. The small ferry was just for cars and didn't even have a place for me to sit down. I was envisioning a Washington State Ferry and was hoping for some clam chowder and a beer.
I was as out of gas as ever on this trip by the time I reached the small store. As I do on all my bike trips, I brought with me my pet tapeworm, Oscar. He has mellowed with age and is generally happy just laying back and chewing the fat. This evening, however, he was barking loudly as I pulled into the little beach store's parking lot.
While I ate my sandwich outside the store, I was consumed by small no-seeum sand flies by the hundreds. I didn't realize what they were doing till it was too late late, and I'm still itching the hundreds of red dots all over my legs and arms.
I didn't know much about the Southeast part of our country prior to this trip. Things like.... the bayou area starts in Texas and goes all the way over to Florida. And the difference between Cajun and Creole. Creole is kind of a catch-all phrase for a dialect and people that could be from New Orleans to all over the Caribbean. While Cajun is a very proud group of people of French descent. They were formerly French settlers in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. When the British sacked their homes and chased them out after the French and Indian war, this group of people migrated south using rivers such as the Ohio and Mississippi. When they arrived at the Red Stick (Baton Rouge) stuck in the mud alongside the Mississippi river bank, they got out of their boats and began settling the area near there. Cajuns now live in all the bayou areas from Texas to Florida. The settlers called their new land Acadia. Which was shortened to Cadia. And if you are from Cadia, then you are a Cadian. And like how they changed the word Indian to Injun, the name Cadian was changed to Cajun.
And Cajuns love crawfish, which are found all over the land from people's front yards to flooded rice fields. All along my route I saw them for sale for $60 to $75 for a forty pound bag of live Crawfish. You'd have to really love them to eat 40 pounds!!! They put them in everything and I tried them in crawfish bisque and crawfish fettuccine of all things.
If there is anything I'd like to take from this trip it is realizing how much better the view is of America from an old two-lane highway. Interstate highways have their place in getting you someplace quickly, but if you really want to see the country, take the two lane route and really experience the country.... Those old roads are still out there!
My original plan was to finish off the last 300 miles of Florida, and the last of this cross-continental ride, by riding two days of around 110 miles each and leave an easy last day of about 80 miles. As I pulled out of the Quality Itchy Inn, Tallahassee onto Highway 90, I couldn't help but notice there were a few soft puffy clouds floating eastward, and that highway 90 was even nicer to cycle on than the beautiful highway 20 that brought me into Tallahassee. After a few miles of riding there was a sign that pronounced - "Jacksonville 155". Near the sign was an ominous sight, a roadside memorial to some unlucky biker named Steve. They had put some flowers on an old ten-speed they had painted a completely ghostly white and hung a sign on the top bar that just said RIP Steve.
With awesome highway 90 pavement conditions, and the perfect 75-degree weather this favorable, I thought, just maybe I could make it all the way to the beach today! (Friday April 27th) So I picked up the pace, which was made easier by Florida's fantastic highway surface. What made it so nice was a combination of all the elements that go into making or ruining a bike ride. On this day, all of those elements came together for the best possible chance of doing an epic Florida cross-state ride…….and the previous 2540 miles had warmed me up for the task.
Florida has by far the best and smoothest asphalt surfaces, cleanest shoulders, least garbage in the ditch, gentle rolling hills, scenic roadside estates and postcard little towns every 10-20 miles of the whole trip. There was hardly even any road kill, so unlike other states I'd traversed since Austin, I wasn't constantly smelling sun-ripened possum all the time. I think possum is so nasty that even the black vultures I saw every day ominously circling overhead didn't eat them so they languished forever on the hot pavement.
I didn't stop for lunch with Tom until mile 77, and then again for another lunch at mile 120. Because highway 90 paralleled interstate 10, there was hardly any traffic for me to contend with and there were just enough rolling hills to keep it interesting.
My good friend and long time neighbor Tom Markson, had met me in Tallahassee with my return-home car, and was leap-frogging me down the highway. He too, was amazed at how absolutely beautiful and scenic everything was on highway 90. I informed him that I was going to try and finish the ride in one day, and after my second lunch at mile 120, I sent him ahead to park and wait where Florida Old Highway 90 ran straight into the Atlantic Ocean. I had four hours of daylight left with 60 miles to go and I knew the sun going down would be my biggest challenge. City riding is generally slow because of having to stop for red lights all the time, which can cut in half your average speed.
Because of my biking experience, age or maybe even genetics, I thankfully never have to tell my legs what to do while on a bike ride. I never have to cajole, encourage, or scold them into doing their job...that very important job of making the pedals go round and round all day. This is a very good thing, because it leaves all of my attention on scouting the immediate area in front of my bike's front wheel for danger. It's hard to describe all of the potentially dangerous items found on the shoulder where bikes have to ride. Basically anything that a car or truck is made of, and anything they can carry.... Which means absolutely anything is found there. With a front tire that's less than an inch wide, having my wheel go in a crack, off the edge of the shoulder or hitting some item tossed of a truck, could be the end of my bike, my bike ride, or me!!! Any of these potential hazards happens hundreds of times per day traversing the country on its highways. Riding across the country is way more about safely navigating the hazards than pedaling a bike all day.
Surprisingly, traffic right into downtown Jacksonville was nonexistent. For a Friday evening at 7:00 pm, it was like a ghost town on the west side of town. I knew I'd have to cross a huge bridge over the inter-coastal waterway, and it was the scariest part of the entire day. Not because of the traffic, but because there was no shoulder and lots of garbage and junk right where I had to ride. My biggest fear was that with 15 miles to go, I'd have a flat tire or some catastrophic mechanical failure that would stop me. I had already decided that once inside of 50 miles from the beach I was going to rent a beach cruiser to finish the ride with if necessary!
Thankfully, I entered Beach Blvd. and the final ten-mile stretch to the finish line. After what seemed like at least 50 red lights (I'm not exaggerating) in those ten miles, I could finally see the ocean just as it was getting dark. My epic one-day cross-state ride of 180 miles, and cross-country ride of 2709 miles came to a watery end. I'm very thankful for legs that autonomously can go all day long!
Several people asked before I left home back in Liberty Lake if I was scared. I had been asked this before when I was getting ready to go someplace but had not really thought about my standard answer.... NO. I had never really thought about what a great blessing it is NOT to be scared of an adventure like this! Maybe I should be and I am just daft!
Things I am thankful for...
1) a very understanding, and tolerant wife
2) a very understanding, and tolerant boss
3) a mother who took me down country roads just to see what was there
4) Mr. Cannondale, Mr. Shimano, and Mr. Mavic who collaborated to make an amazingly light and durable machine to explore on. This bike of mine is 15 years old now, has over 30,000 miles on it, and has needed almost no repairs!
5) the strength and health to have awesome adventures
6) NOT being scared
7) who ever invented Warmshowers.org
8) a special thanks to the 12,539 cars and trucks that stayed on their side of the white line and went around me instead of thru me!
The trip by the numbers:
- 8 Southernmost states covered
- 2709 miles, which is less than the 2965 miles that I covered going from Spokane to Virginia Beach in 2009. The bottom of California bends in eastward quite a ways. It could have been about 150 miles shorter if you skip going to Phoenix and stay nearer the border by Tucson.
- 22 days
- 8-10 flat tires, and put on a new back tire in Phoenix. Both tires are pretty worn out now.
- 1 Set of riding clothes... But wait! It's not as disgusting as it sounds..... The key to traveling fast and far on a bike is to travel light. Every night after a long hard day in the saddle I'd take a shower with all of my clothes on, lathering up my clothes along with the rest of me. Then after my shower I'd hang them up to dry, put on my "evening attire", a t-shirt, light pair of shorts and flip flops and go have dinner. The next day.....repeat.... The only thing to be careful of is that you really have to love the clothes you pick to wear every day!
Most memorable meal - Texas Roadhouse in Yuma, AZ
Worst motel - Itchy Inn Kirbyville, Texas
Best evening ride after dinner - 47 miles from Destin Florida to Ebro, Florida
Worst bicycle friendly city - El Paso Texas
Least likely place I'd ever move to - Hachita, New Mexico (do google maps street view to see it)
Worst meal - fish and chips at DerWienerschnitzel near El Paso.... Absolutely awful, and I was starving!
Biggest surprise - riding through the Arizona desert wasn't boring
Worst surprise - West Texas was far worse to ride across than I thought it would be, bigger too...
My "saying of the year", as seen on a hostel wall in Montezuma Beach, Costa Rica in January 2018... "Sometimes You Win, Sometimes You Learn"
Quote to Live By "Do It While You Can" Jan Wesche (RIP)
Cheers,
Randy Grinalds
April 2018
PS Feel free to pass this on to any body you think might be interested
Finishing in the dark with wet feet at Jacksonville Beach, Florida
