Day 5 – Thursday 6/2/22

Tallahassee, Florida to Marianna, Florida – 71.8 Miles

Before each day’s ride, there’s a bit of a morning checklist. Depending on how motivated I was the night before, things need to be repacked into the panniers. Usually there’s some internal grumbling by me because, despite my goal to travel with as little as possible, I’m still lugging around things I don’t want or haven’t used. Most of the weight I’m carrying could be classified as either “insurance” items (tools, spare tire, tubes, patch kit) or off the bike items (keyboard\tablet, charging cables and adapters, extra clothes, tent, sleeping bag). In a perfectly simple world, I’d have one set of clothes for riding and another set for relaxing after the ride. Done. Unfortunately, all the other stuff is a requirement since there’s no supply truck following me around and it’s nice to have clean underwear.

After packing it’s time to suit up. My typical uniform while riding is cycling shorts, mountain bike shoes and a jersey. The shorts and shoes are pretty basic, but the jersey of choice lately has been a replica of Laurent Fignon’s “Systeme U” jersey from the mid-80’s. Though his name is known mostly by cycling aficionados, Fignon was a superb rider who is best known for losing the Tour de France to Greg LeMond by eight seconds in 1989. Even though he won it twice, that loss defined his career. The key characteristic of the jersey is its visibility. With its yellow, red, white and black design, it helps people see me on the road, which is exactly what a commercial team sponsor would want. I’m packing two other jerseys, one orange and one yellow, but they don’t make me look as cool as Fignon or feel as powerful. Merci beaucoup, Laurent!

The last thing I do before heading out the door is to spray on the sunscreen. The sun has been shining brightly in Florida this week, and I’ve come prepared. When the sunscreen goes on it’s about two minutes to takeoff, and another five or six hours in the saddle. Once out the door Ishmael feels unwieldy for about thirty seconds, then stabilizes. And we’re off!

After leaving the hotel this morning, I rode about 4 miles, then stopped at Wendy’s for breakfast. Although I consumed everything Olive Garden threw at me the night before, one benefit of cycling 60-70 miles every day is a 3 to 6 thousand calories a day deficit. With that kind of burn rate I fear neither massive slices of pizza nor hot fudge sundaes. While at the counter, the woman noticed my spiffy cycling outfit and asked where I was riding. When I said Marianna today and Seattle eventually, it didn’t quite sink in. “So, you’re practicing?”, she asked. “No, I’m doing”, I answered. The idea of riding that far was something she hadn’t considered, and after a brief pause she congratulated me for something I still haven’t done yet and wished me luck. A few minutes later, as I was eating an excellent sausage and egg biscuit, a man arrived who was clearly a regular customer and friend of the woman I’d just talked with. I heard the words “bicycle” and “Seattle”, and then nothing.

Andre appeared next to my table within several seconds of hearing my secondhand story. Although he’d lived in New York City most of his life, he was now in Tallahassee because of family. He tilted his head and looked down at me, as if examining something unusual that had fallen from the sky. “I heard you’re riding your bike to Seattle, that’s way in the corner.” I told him it was, but I wasn’t going to get there today. “Just chipping away at it, and it will happen.” He stepped back a bit and didn’t talk for several seconds. “That’s special”, he said, “Do you know how amazing that is?” I told him other people have done the same thing, and more would follow, but at that moment I was the “Chosen One” and there were no substitutes. We talked for several minutes, discussing my plans, NYC vs. Tallahassee and how everyone has a talent within them that makes them unique. We parted with a firm handshake and his good wishes for the rest of my journey. To me, it was a glimpse into what happens when people reconsider what they didn’t think possible. Suddenly their world just got bigger. Mine did too. Good talking with you, Andre!

I navigated myself out of early morning Tallahassee traffic, and stopped by Doak-Campbell Stadium, home of the Seminoles. They’re not quite where they used to be these days, but they still have the best uniforms in college football and a chant that is unmatched. Even though I left FSU over 40 years ago, it’s still a special place.

The first major town was Quincy, about 25 miles away. The route kept me off of Highway 90, and on some peaceful backroads.

If you’re looking for an economical place to spend eternity, may I suggest this?

Quincy is a medium sized town with a nice appearance. I tend to search for attractive buildings when I visit someplace new, and Quincy has them.

The town of Gretna was next in line. Even though I lived in Florida for many years, I usually followed the shortest path between any two points when traveling. It’s my good luck to be directed along roads I would never have thought to take. Here’s a treasure just off the main highway.

Chattahootchee has about 3,600 people and a name that means “Rocks-marked” or “painted rocks”. What it meant to me was a rejuvenating lunch at Subway, with a huge Coke and bottle of water. The hills were many and steep today, and I hit 31.5 mph descending the one just west of the city.

Shortly after leaving town, I crossed the Chattahootchee River. There’s a dam on one side that holds it back, but the other side flows to the Gulf of Mexico.

Just across the river, it’s Central time. Working on either side of a time zone that close to where you live can’t be easy. For a couple of minutes Ishmael was an hour long.

I couldn’t pass the town of Sneads without a picture. If New York City had been called “Sneads”, I doubt it would have grown as large.

I used to think Winn-Dixie was an iconic southern grocery store but was mistaken. If you shop at a Piggly Wiggly, you’re definitely living below the Mason-Dixon line.

To have a need for a massive ice dispenser like this is impressive, and they’re all over the place in north Florida. Whether people are cooling fish or beer, I don’t know, but selling ice must be fairly profitable to justify this contraption.

Since Highway 90 had been good to me, I wanted a picture. I got one, but notice the small sign attached to the marker. It’s obvious who placed it there, but it’s completely illegible to anyone going by at car speed, or even Ishmael speed. I doubt the person responsible majored in Marketing or sold much at their garage sale.

Two Egg is famous in Florida for its unusual name, although “Sneads” is harder to say ten times quickly.

Imagining what an abandoned building looked like when new can be an entertaining mental exercise. The people, cars, clothes and events of the time all play into it. This old gas station sits near Grand Ridge, and may have served travelers in the 40’s.

I arrived in Marianna around 4:30 and dined at Burger King. It was a successful day today. I had no soreness or fatigue, which means I’m adapting to riding longer distances with a load. The hills weren’t much of an obstacle, despite significant elevation changes, which is also a plus. To be continued….