Riding into the blue

Day 77, Stage 53 - Palm Beach Shores to Miami
80 miles in 6hrs 20mins (incl. one bike shop trip and just snacks and
juice stops again)
Total, and final distance - 4,745 miles

"It's not in the bag. It's not in the bag. Focus. You've still got a long day to do."

I forget the exact stats but is it something like 80% of mountaineering accidents that happen on the descent. And what's the other stat about car accidents within a few miles of home. I didn't know the numbers but I sure as hell knew the principle. I would have to focus for five to six hours in the saddle like I never had before.

This wasn't over, not yet it wasn't.

I quickly had 10 miles chalked up. Still 70 to go so not walking distance yet. And I would walk if need be, of that I had no doubt. The road then turned onto the A1A along West Palm Beach and various other lush neighbourhoods. Where, in the space of the next 35 miles or so I saw more folk out cycling than I had all trip combined, easily. Speaking to a few of them (Tony, then Jim & Mike - to whom I'm grateful for the 'tow' - though I did do my share) it turned out that there'd been a few races on that morning. I was loving the double takes that we were getting from the passing racers as Mike, Jim & I sped along in a chain gang with the full set of panniers on my machine.

The cyclocomputer was showing forty one miles. Less than forty to go. "Now that's walking distance" I thought. Barring a crash, I was going to be in Miami tonight. I was relaxing a bit, but so was the rear wheel as another spoke gave up. To ride on or not? I decided to play it safe so tracked down Downtown Bicycles who quickly fixed it and almost cheered me out the door on my way down the road such was their enthusiasm. Thanks folks.

The road then climbed over the 17th Street bridge - one of the less severe climbs of the trip, but positively Matterhornesque in comparison to the 700+ miles I'd seen so far in Florida. A brief, but hairy stint along Highway 1 beside the Fort Lauderdale Airport was the last noteable obstacle before I rejoined the A1A and 'Miami Beach' appeared at the top of the gps screen. 21 straight, flat miles to go. I still couldn't relax, though, but I was almost smiling. The purple line was getting shorter though. I'd been through this 'end-of-stage' feeling over fifty times already this trip this was the same but oh so different.

'91st Street' was the first I noticed. That's when it hit me, I was in Miami. The countdown of streets felt almost as slow as that of the miles into Perry in Sunday during the 189 mile day but it was excitement today. 59th, 45th, 34th. I was anxiously glancing in my mirror looking for that car/truck/bus that could ruin everything. But, thankfully, there was'nt one.

The road took me round one more corner ... I looked up to the glorious sight of the sunshine on my hotel ... I was there, and couldn't quite believe it.

I pulled off the road and just stood there looking in awe at it for several minutes before moving on to cut a tyre-width furrow in the white sands of the Beach as I pushed past the bathers and into the beautifully warm Atlantic water.

The hotel staff were, I think, a bit puzzled as I pulled up outside coated in sweat, salt, sea and sand.

"Hi, I'm checking in"
"Ok sir. If you just bring your bike in here. Where are you riding
from?"
"Seattle"
Silence

I unpacked the bike for the last time, got into my hotel room, sat
down, switched the tv, then I realised, there was no need to find the
Weather Channel....

.....it was over.

Riding into the blue

I...

..have arrived :)

Touching distance

Day 76, Stage 53 - Cocoa Beach to Palm Beach Shores
129 miles in 8hrs 40mins (incl. a nostalgic Subway stop and an awful lot of juice and water stops) Total Distance - 4,665 miles
I was feeling very, very uneasy at the start of this, the penultimate stage. The length of the stage, at some 120+ miles, didn't bother me that much but it was that I was so close that I knew I'd be continually battling with myself not to switch into wind-down mode and, if I did, and then anything went wrong, I'd likely seriously struggle to get myself going again.

The day started fast and early and before long I realised I needed refueling so pulled over to buy my last Subway of the trip. It tasted the same as the others but the nerves meant it didn't sit well. The road continued almost dead-flat for mile after mile and I was soon regreting having called an early end to yesterday's stage, leaving me so much to do today. My mood was lifted, though as I caught site of the arched back of a dolphin swimming in one of the bay inlets.

However, with no iPod, and the roads so flat and straight it was small relief from the nervous tedium. The only other memorable (and I mean memorable in a bad way) sight in the first hundred miles was the first of a new chain of gas station that I hadn't seen before 'Hess'. I'd suggest some corporate rebeanding might be in order.

I rolled on. Only a mechanical can stop me know, I'd been thinking, then I crunched to a halt as the chain strangely entangled, twisting the front gear mech. A quick bit of 'cold-setting' (i.e. kicking it) thankfully got it back into working shape. Next to go, though, was the rear tyre. Not a puncture but as I pulled away from traffic lights I realised that, in stopping at them, a three-inch strip of rubber had delaminated from the tyre. Not drastic but I'd have to glue it back on at the end if the stage in 15 miles (now I knew I'd carried that tube of superglue all the way across the continent for a good reason). Then, a few miles later, the now all-too-familiar sound of a spoke giving up shot through the air. That was three mechanicals in the space of 15 miles. I couldn't get to the end of the stage and off the road quick enough.

In hindsight, though I should have stayed on the bike for a bit longer. I had done reasonably well to have avoided any real motel nightmares all trip, but that was about to change. The thunderclouds were drifting towards me as I'd ridden around for 20 mins trying to find somewhere to stay so, in fear of getting wet I reluctantly decieded this place would do. I'll post a pic once I get the chance (now there), but just take my word for it, it was comically bad (for those of you who lived there, it reminded me of Temple Park Crescent, only worse). Still, I was chuckling as I knew where I'd be staying the next night in Miami and this place provided such a marvellous contrast it was hilarious.

What wasn't hilarious was when I realised that the spare spokes I'd sought out the night before in Cocoa Beach were not the length I'd asked for.

I was way too tired for the excitement of knowing it was the last day tomorrow to keep me awake so I fell asleep on the sofa, with worrying dreams of breaking spokes the next day.