11: can't get out, the italian, fellowes' place, publix, loxahatchee crossing, two parks, gator culvert

March 28, 2025

Boca Raton to Jonathan Dickinson State Park

I'm looking forward to today's ride because of the side/tailwind. It's 15-19 mph with gusts up to 30 mph. Gust away.

I passed through Hypoluxo, which I always assumed meant "low light." The name actually comes from the Seminole language for Lake Worth, which translates to "water all around - can't get out."

I periodically stopped along the way to take some pictures of the beach and water.

This guy, at least in his late 70s, passed me. In a thick Italian accent he asked, "What you carry in bags!? You are moving??" Then he let out a jolly laugh and continued gliding past.

There were some nice sections of streets like this.

I think these are really cool-looking plants.

as are these, grasping the wall as they seek more light.

The houses this morning were so massive that the pictures I took just couldn't capture the magnitude, so I tried videoing them. That didn't work out so great, either.

At one point, bouncing over some rough sections in Palm Beach, there was a clatter behind me. There was nothing visible in my mirror, but when I turned my head to make sure I saw the Varia tail light sitting in the middle of the street I had just crossed. I quickly turned around to retrieve it, and would hate to lose it. I need to figure out a way to make the bayonet attachment a little less easy to turn.

As I was floating along one of the less-traveled roads, I glanced over to my left and promptly did a double take. When it registered as fact, I quickly slowed, crossed the street, and turned around to get a better look. And, of course, a picture.

Trying to look innocent as I squinted through the thick foliage, I asked myself, "Am I really looking at a bunch of white people dressed in all white long-sleeved shirts, white long pants, and white shoes... playing croquet??" For a moment I thought I was in a Julian Fellowes movie and, after collecting myself and smothering the grin spread across my face, I realized I had to get a picture.

The problem was that the foliage was too thick to get a good shot so I went to the front gate. The guard, perhaps the only thing behind the barriers of this exclusive club which wasn't white, peered at me through the window of the guard shack, clearly suspicious that anyone would turn around, then randomly stop at the front gates. I realized that if I pull out my camera I could be having a conversation with a higher authority than a security guard, so I pulled out my phone, opened the camera app, and clicked away as I held it to my ear and mouthed the words, "Yes, Julian, I think I have the setting for your next movie."

The pictures are terrible, very pixilated and not really worth posting; however, I'm not sure anyone would believe me if I don't provide at least some photographic evidence, so....

I'll caption this one for you. The man on the right is saying, "Thou art a cheating cad. I challenge thee to a duel."

At this point, I'm on the US Bicycle Route System 1

Determined not to get stuck without some food, I decided to stop at Publix to get something to take to my campsite. When you're traveling alone it's much harder to go into large buildings when you can't see your bike. Even if it's locked up, the panniers slip off easily.

I thought I'd try a different tack, so I rolled my bike through the front doors and stopped in front of the service desk, about five feet distant. As the woman behind the counter was helping someone I took out my lock and locked the rear wheel to the seat tube so it couldn't be rolled away. Just as I clicked it into place the woman said, "You can't park your bike there."

I'm generally pretty timid, so I thought I'd practice being more assertive. Unfortunately, I don't know how, so I looked up with a puzzled expression and innocently asked, "Why?"

"You're in the way of customers," she said, peering around the lone patron she had just helped. Then she made a sweeping gesture along the front of the counter which, I assumed, meant, "Look at all of the people who could be lining up to see me at any moment, but aren't here yet."

After the bold "Why?" I had pulled out earlier, I knew by that point I'd pretty much used up all of my assertiveness for the week; even so, I somehow managed to lift my chin up incrementally and ask, "Could I see your manager?"

A phone call and eight seconds brought her right over. With an expressionless face full of meaning, the woman behind the counter began, "This man wants to park his bike here." I explained my predicament, that I could lock it up outside, but someone could easily slip off the pannier bags if I leave it there.

The manager responded with our American Slogan: "I'm sorry. We can't be responsible for it," ensuring no legal liability.

"I completely understand. I'm okay with that," nodding in agreement. I still expected her to ask me to lock it up outside, but to my pleasant surprise she said, "You can put it right over there in front of the water fountains." I was so happy I'd be able to leave it inside that I promptly offered to place it five feet to the left so that people would be able to use the water fountains. "No. In front of the water fountains is okay."

I only paused for a second, then decided to say absolutely nothing about the location. Instead, I just smiled and said, "Thank you so much."

I felt like unlocking the bike would appear to be a delaying tactic so, since the rear wheel was now immobile, I tested my body's threshold as to how much I can lift without causing a hernia. More than a hundred pounds, fortunately, and as I waddled away I suspect the two women staring after me were trying to figure out why this strange man was lifting his rear wheel off the ground as he unsteadily guided his bike to barricade the water fountains.

Even locked up and in the store, I had an uneasy feeling leaving it with so many people flowing in and out. This, in spite of the fact that I have four Air Tags secreted in and on the bike, and I'm sure there were no less that five security cameras covering it. Even so, I scurried through the store gathering some food.

Immediately upon leaving, I had a bridge to cross.

It's low tide, so people can walk from one side of the river to the other.

and it appears there are bars and/or places where you can get something to eat

The park entrance had a lovely curved road with overhanging trees, and as I rolled up to the entrance gate a young Ranger came out to greet me. "Hi. I need a place to camp," I explained. He couldn't have been more than 23, with short, strawberry blonde hair. My initial impression of him was of Opie, from the Andy Griffith Show, had he grown up eating too many of Aunt Bea's pies and ended up being a bit chunky.

"I'm sorry, we don't have any campsites."

If you recall from an earlier post, there's a state law that mandates all Florida State Parks allow bikers and hikers to camp even if they're completely full. So, filled with hubris from my earlier success with assertiveness, I decided to strike again.

I nodded knowingly, "I need an emergency campsite."

Again: "I'm sorry, but we don't have any campsites."

While I didn't uses these exact words, it seemed to me that this is exactly what I was saying: "I’ll have you know young man that…." Then I educated this youngster about the Florida law, and so help me god I can camp here.

That's when it got awkward.

He looked at me apologetically and repeated his statement, emphasizing a single word, the most important one.

"We don't have any campsites. We're a Day Camp."

It took me a minute for this to register, after which I resolved never to be assertive again, then sheepishly asked, "Do you have any suggestions about a place to camp?"

"Sure do. You can go to Kiss My Ass Campground, just up the road about 800 miles you senile old asswipe."

No, he didn't, but I wish he would've. It would've saved me the self flagellation.

I made really good time heading to Jonathan Dickinson State Park, the one with *actual* campgrounds - although it's probably more accurate to say, running away from John D. MacArthur State Park.

Any turtle that tries to cross this road simply wouldn't make it. It would be like a Pirate Turtle making a Condemned Turtle walk the plank.

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About fifteen miles later I arrived at Jonathan Dickinson State Park. The Rangers were excellent. One of them, the funniest, reminded me of the actor J. K. Simmons.

I was told the ride to the campsite is about two miles, which was fairly accurate. It was the most pleasant riding of the entire trip so far, with a direct 16-mph tailwind on a smooth road with no traffic. I didn't even need to pedal much.

This is the map I received from the Ranger. I did wonder what a "gator culvert" is. The definition of a culvert is "a tunnel carrying a stream or open drain under a road or railroad." Does that mean it conveniently carries the gators under the road to my campground in the equestrian section? Or, if it's somehow supposed to be a barrier, exactly how is an "open drain" going to prevent the alligators from visiting me?

And should I feed them?

Today was my longest day yet, and when I arrived at my campsite I lay down on the picnic table and looked up at the trees while snacking on some M&Ms.

Today was a good day.

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Today's ride: 51 miles (82 km)
Total: 298 miles (480 km)

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Betsy EvansI bought one of these for my Varia. (yikes, sorry about the long link)

https://www.amazon.ca/takewell-Protective-Lightest-Ultra-Thin-Dissipation/dp/B0C17JLT7C/ref=asc_df_B0C17JLT7C?mcid=53f7d1bf793134bebafd5f76695428f4&tag=googleshopc0c-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=706724917185&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=9433005453997954942&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=1001948&hvtargid=pla-2253425492597&gad_source=1&th=1

And last week on a bumpy ride, I realized only when I got home that the Varia had detached itself at some point and was swinging from the tether. So I got my $11 worth!
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2 weeks ago

Mark BinghamTo Betsy EvansThanks Betsy! That's a GREAT idea! I was thinking about attaching an Air Tag, but haven't gotten around to it yet. This is way cheaper.
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2 weeks ago

Gregory GarceauGood job on your assertiveness at the Publix store. I faced a similar situation at a Las Vegas Walmart on one of my tours. The security guard yelled at me for trying to lock my bike in the shopping cart area, which wasn't even technically inside the store. Before I could get three words out, he yelled at me again, and I folded like, um, a folding bike.

Sorry your assertiveness backfired at the first state park you stopped at.

Those croquet players enshrouded in white outfits were almost creepy. As my friend Bob said, "it IS Florida after all."
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1 week ago

Mark BinghamTo Gregory GarceauThanks, Greg. Sometimes I feel like Bob Newhart... but I'm working on it. :-)
And thanks for reading.
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1 week ago