Day 38. The days are blurring into one long, beautiful, calorie-deficient haze. Honestly, just a few days ago we were convinced Texas was infinite—a geographical prank designed to keep us pedaling forever. And yet, here we are, rolling into Florida in a state of mild, sun-drenched shock. Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama? They didn’t fly by; they teleported.
We set out at 8:00 AM sharp—well, 8:04 AM, which is basically 8:00 AM in “cycling touring” time (don’t look at me, the maps were loading!). The road was lined with restaurants begging us to stop for a second breakfast. The temptation was real, especially when Jeff—the man who usually hunts down espresso like a bloodhound—passed a coffee wagon hawking homemade cinnamon rolls.
It turns out, Jeff’s iron will saved us. At our first water stop, Norman asked Jeff to take a look at his rear tire. Keep in mind, Norm had just inspected it during yesterday’s team maintenance. We’re talking a fresh, pristine look. Now, the tire featured a slash running its entire length, looking like it had gone ten rounds with a shark or maybe a razor blade.
Decision made: Emergency pit crew mode, engaged.
The A-Team assembled: Dennis, Jeff, Frank, and Norm, with Darryl providing backup. Steve and Karl were there to provide vital “moral support.” As for me? I decided the best way to support the mission was to retreat to a safe, tactical position next to the snacks. Someone had to ensure the trail mix didn’t get lonely, right? It was a flurry of activity—so fast that I barely had time to swallow my snack to snap a photo before Norman was back on two wheels.
Fast forward 16 miles to the next stop, and we rolled into “Bodacious Pensacola.” Jeff spotted the Bodacious Brew Thru—a coffeehouse right next to a children’s garden. Our cold brews hit the spot so perfectly that we chose to linger just long enough to miss the second waterstop. Priorities, people.
At lunch, we had the pleasure of meeting Stirling from the National Naval Aviation Museum. He was ready to give us a grand tour, but alas, high-stakes security protocols at the Strait of Hormuz meant the gates were locked tight. A bummer, but hey—gives us a great excuse to bike the Southern Tier all over again, right?
The afternoon ride along the Gulf was a total show-off. We had no idea the beaches down here were this stunning. There is a very specific, magical advantage to seeing the country at 15 miles per hour: you actually see the world instead of just watching it blur past a windshield.
It was an incredible day. We’re currently hovering in that strange space between “I am so happy we made it this far” and “I am slightly devastated this is almost over.” There were definitely moments back there where I wasn’t entirely sure my legs would hold up, but here we are. We’ve still got a few miles of road ahead, so for now, we’re keeping our eyes on the horizon and our hands on the handlebars.
Onward to the finish!