Day 7 -Saturday 6/4/22

DeFuniak Springs, Florida to Cantonment, Florida – 85.4 Miles

Today started off in an irritating way, as I couldn’t find my sunglasses when it was time to leave. Of course, they’d been there when I’d checked into the hotel the night before, but now they were missing, which meant either riding without them or buying a new pair. After a visit to Walmart, and the help of two nice ladies to point me in the right direction, the problem was solved.

Traffic was heavy in town this morning, possibly due to the proximity of the Gulf Coast nearby. So, I hit some of the side streets I’d used getting to the hotel the day before and rode to the center of DeFuniak Springs. There was a farmer’s market taking place on the main street and several early risers jogging or hiking around the lake.

I could have stayed longer, but knew it was going to be a high mileage day to make it to tonight’s destination by late afternoon. The route followed Highway 90 again, which simplified navigation, but would put me in some dense traffic situations down the road. So, with all that in mind, I made another left turn and started west.

Being well rested, recently fed and motivated to pedal make time and distance variables easier to deal with mentally. Everything is as good as it will be the rest of the day, which makes moving down the road, if not effortless, then something I don’t have to think about much.

The chain of small towns across Florida’s Panhandle are like oases to a roving cyclist. While an essential source of supplies, they also provide an ever-changing goal to shoot for while checking off the miles. The scenery was becoming familiar on Highway 90 after four days of riding, but there was always something that caught my attention.

I would have thought traffic on 90 would be minimal today, but it was heavy nearing any road that provided access to or from the Gulf Coast. I was riding safely on the wide shoulder, while constantly being passed by a parade of cars and trucks. The center line and shoulder strip had been modified by removing material from the road, leaving continuous depressions in the pavement. So, whenever a car crossed the centerline to pass me, or to move back into the lane, there was a loud “BRRRAAAPPP” noise each time. Combined with the sound of the engines and tires, this became annoying as the day went on. Sometimes, the cars suddenly disappeared for several minutes, and I was left riding in relative silence. That was blissful. Then, in my rear-view mirror, I’d see a chain of them coming at me again and prepared for a new audio assault.

As I looked around, there was evidence of a lot happening off the highway. If you have musical talent, this could be your spot,

There’s plenty of land here, and some of it is for sale.

One thing that appeals to me is finding places that don’t exist anywhere else in America. The uniqueness of a purely local business beats the sameness of chain stores every day,

For a few miles Highway 90 ran parallel to old Florida State Road 1, built in 1921. To Florida’s credit they left it in place, so I got a chance to try it out over 100 years later. It was rough.

I knew I was getting close to my destination when I got to Milton, Florida. Unfortunately, this was when traffic increased, and the bike lane shrunk or disappeared completely. For a good portion of the run into Cantonment, the passing traffic sounded like the Indianapolis 500, and the quiet of backroads cycling disappeared.

I worked my way along, and eventually things settled down near Escambia Bay.

Escambia County is where Pensacola is located and will be the last county I’ll be riding through in Florida.

These boats are docked just inside the county line and have an outlet to the bay.

For the first time in a week, I’m not in a hotel tonight. My cousin Kathy and husband Roy invited me to stay with them, and the offer was much appreciated. They gave me a comprehensive tour of Pensacola and took care of dinner later. Thanks Kathy and Roy!

Tomorrow I’ll be in Alabama, the second of the 16 states I’ll be passing through on the way to the Pacific. Since I left Vilano Beach seven days ago, I’ve ridden 492 miles in 41hours and 19 minutes, while getting credit for burning almost 24,000 calories. My plan is to continue riding every day, as I’m feeling good and seem to be getting better as I go along. I hope that continues!