Day 7 Gator Hell Week

“I think I have an icicle hanging from my nose,” I yelled as I passed by Peter and Ed this morning somewhere after Bowling Green.

“Is that the Quote For the Day?” Ed asked.

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” I tossed back. The plumbing was working great this morning, thanks to the chill in the air. The TV said it was 29 in the Winter Haven area, but I decided to not tell anyone what the thermometer on the side of the RV said: 22 degrees. Yikes. this ios Florida. It’s not supposed to get this cold…ever.

But it did. And we rode anyway. With an almost 115-mile day ahead of us, I couldn’t really allow for much of a delayed start. We had to get rolling early, and stay moving, or risk running into a daylight constraint.

Fortunately, our route had a lot of southerly component to it, making our departure from Bartow well-placed in a geographic sense. While we did have some east and west sections (thanks to my never-ending fascination with riding by quaint, meaningless places in the middle of nowhere), much of our ride was straight into the sun. There were about 8 miles of dead-on headwind as we doubled back north immediately before and after lunch, but the rest of the our day dealt with either side- or tailwinds.

And that’s what we are thankful for, because that wind blew with a fury all day long. It did warm up to almost 50, but once you get sweaty underneath your jacket, it is hard to shake a chill. The result is that we all stayed cold for the entire day, our balaclavas allowing for some bizarre tan lines on our faces.

I like today’s route quite a bit. It takes us through some old Florida towns (like Bowling Green, Ona, and Zolfo Springs) , through desolate phosphate mining country, and past the Limestone Country Store, once a fixture on the original Gator Hell Week route. There were even two “pick-a-plank” wooden bridges on the lonely country roads we followed. The section around Lake June in Winter was particularly scenic, with its miles of curving lakeshore. Our route eventually took us through Lake Placid and a few miles beyond, to a Ramada Inn along Rt 27 south of town conveniently located near nothing.

And so we had our customary cookout tonight. The only hitch in the arrangement was that we had to eat indoors, thanks to the wind and chill. But that didn’t but a damper on things a bit, as we enjoyed one another’s company one last time before we break up tomorrow afternoon at the completion of the ride.

Tomorrow’s route is only about 93 miles, meaning we’ll get roughly 830 on the tour. And some folks will be packing up and flying home right away, leaving the rest of us to do our traditional post-ride dinner at Hops brewpub in Fort Myers. It’s an easy spin into the finish, and the forecast is already calling for a light northeasterly breeze…a tailwind that will no doubt warm our spirits and souls as we pedal the remaining miles of our journey.

Once again, Gator Hell Week has been a big blur. We ride. We eat. We sleep. And then it’s over. There’s scant little time for anything else.

Except, perhaps, make plans for the Next Big Ride.