May 14, 2008
Day 2: Fort Clinch State Park, FL to Trader's Hill County Recreation Area (South of Folkston, GA)
69.55 miles, 4:51:47 Ride Time, 14.30 Average Speed, 26.9 Maximum Speed
I was up at 5:20, after a restless night in the tent. After the college students next door finally quieted down, I was awakened a few times by what I presume were raccoons scurrying around the tent (I had put my food in a bag and hung it from a post, but kept my toothpaste and soap in the tent with me. I was later told that raccoons consider those things food... stupid raccoons.)
I was riding out of Fort Clinch at 6:40; it was still cool and pleasant at this hour. I found a McDonalds a few miles away, and had breakfast there while using the free WiFi. While I updated this journal, I eavesdropped on a table of older people, all landlords, who complained about the money their tenants owed them, and their myriad reasons for not paying.
The route out of Fernandina Beach was on the busy four-lane A1A/200. Traffic was heavy, and the scenery was the usual mix of ugly development and big-box stores, but at least the shoulder was adequate. Eventually, the traffic and everything else thinned out, and I entered a long stretch of some very unexceptional scenery - mostly pine trees (which I would grow increasingly weary of the next few days).
My maps had me turning south into a headwind for five miles, so before tackling that I stopped in a little store for some Gatorade. As I was leaving a woman called out to me "Have y'all seen Willy?" There was no one else around, so she was definitely talking to me. I had no way to know who Willy was, of course, and couldn't imagine she had me confused with someone else (what local would be dressed like me, riding a heavily loaded bike?). I told her that I was sorry, but I hadn't seen Willy, and rode off.
As I approached the little crossroads of St. George, I spotted a BBQ joint called "The Shack by the Tracks", but, after dragging the bike through the dirt/sand parking lot, saw that it was closed on Wednesdays (!?). As I was figuring that out (the place was covered with so many signs, it was hard to find the hours of operation), a guy in a truck slowed down to confirm that the food there was really good, but that yes, they were not open. He also informed me, when I asked, that this sweltering heat was actually cool for South Georgia, and that if I thought this was hot, I should "come back in a month." Of course, in a month I plan to be in Maine, complaining about the excessively cool weather there.
A few hundred feet down the road, I stopped for a sandwich at "The Woofy Wagon." There ensued an odd conversation with another customer, a middle aged woman:
Lady: "Why, you've got your whole house with you. That's a nice bike."
Me: "Thanks."
Lady: "You've got some nice legs."
Me: "Uhh"
Lady: "Yeah, lots of muscles. In the right places."
Me: "Uhh... Thanks!?"
Etc.
I quickly ate my turkey sandwich and escaped.
The next stretch, about 20 miles on route 23/121, is probably the ugliest scenery I have ever ridden the bike through. Straight as a ruler, and virtually nothing but pine tree farms on both sides of the road. The traffic on the road was almost exclusively trucks - but they did give me lots of room. I would grow so weary of the pine trees the next few days, that I resolved to never buy any pine-scented products again.
I passed a campground which looked promising, but once again, after dragging the bike through the unrideable sand that is omnipresent in the area, learned that the place was closed on Wednesdays.
So, I kept riding past more pine trees until I saw a sign for Trader's Hill County Recreation Area. It was a couple of miles down a dead end road, and was basic but nice - and the price, $5.00, was definitely right. Unfortunately, there were no soft drinks or snacks, and the water smelled like rotten eggs ("sulfer" or "sulfa", the guy at the campground called it, after assuring me it was drinkable). After showering in the stinky water (and hoping I didn't now smell like it), I walked around checking the campground out, and was surprised to see a couple of guys on loaded bikes ride up. They were Greg and Dan, music majors from Georgia State, who were doing an Atlanta-Tallahassee-Savannah loop. They were the first touring cyclists I had ever seen riding single-speed bikes, so I annoyed them with several questions, like "How often do you have to push the bike up hills? Don't your knees hurt? Do you have a philosophical objection to the derailleur?" etc. etc.
Later, Dan and Greg kindly shared some of their spaghetti with me (for the second night in a row I had neglected to bring any food into the campground). After we had set up our tents, we were surprised to see three more cyclists show up - Jason, John and Andrew. They were riding the same route as me, but were stopping in Richmond, VA.
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Today's ride: 70 miles (113 km)
Total: 134 miles (216 km)
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