or, "The Florida COGers find Nemo"
I must confess that when this ride was first announced, I waffled on whether to go or not. I've done "the Keys thang", several times. If you aren't fishing, diving and/or drinking, the Keys can get boring pretty quickly. The ride there would be almost 500 miles, a portion of it being along the Ft. Lauderdale/Mijami corridor which I consider to be riding through the depths of hell itself. Kind of mumbling these objections to Al Norcross, Fla. co-AAD, he reaches over, grabs my ear and twists it around a couple times. "OK!OK!OK! Lemme go, I'll go already!" The Pied Piper of Inverness can have a certain persuasiveness about him. The ride was scheduled for the last weekend in January, Super Bowl weekend, I would take Friday off and ride down with Al and some of his buddies. A quick glance at the Weather Channel Wednesday night showed about a 30% chance of rain and knowing what weather differences can exist along half the length of the state, I made sure to pack my Widder vest and waterproof Motoport jacket liner. This would prove later to be one of the smartest moves I've made so far this year.
I pulled into the parking lot at Denny's in Wildwood, just off I-75, around 8:30 Friday morning to find only 2 other bikes there, Al's Connie and his riding partner Jo's Seca II. Apparently 2 other of Al's friends had gotten a later look at the weather forecast than I had and had waved the ride off. Al informed me that the forecast has worsened and is calling for rain both Friday and Saturday in the South Florida area. This really didn't concern me much as I'm convinced that most forecasts these days tend to err on the safe side and things are not usually as bad as predicted. Wanna guess who was right this time? In an effort to avoid the congestion and construction of Mousetown (Orlando) and the paved abortion that is the Mijami/Dade area, I'd mapped out an alternate route taking us down the Western coast of the state and across on US 41 through the bowels of the Everglades. I'd flown over the length of the Glades a few years ago on my first long solo cross-country flight and wanted to check it out from a little closer than 3000' feet up. Before we all finished our coffee and started to suit up, I thought we should decide on a cruise speed. Jo assured Al and I that she'd have no problem maintaining whatever speed we decided on and it was agreed to keep things just under 80.
The next three hours were pretty much an uneventful drone and moan on I-75 South down through Tampa, Sarasota, and Fort Myers to a gas/refreshment stop and our turn East at Naples. During the first 30 minutes or so of the ride down, I'd made a couple mirror checks to see how Jo was doing only to find her a very comfortable butt close distance behind me. This would be the first of many hints during the weekend that she'd be just "one of the guys", ready and able to handle whatever came our way. US41 East across the state was an interesting ride, 2 lane, straight as an arrow running through The Big Cypress National Preserve, the heart of the Florida Everglades and the Miccosukee Indian reservation. This corridor is a paradise for nature lovers with numerous swamp boat and buggy excursions being available along the way. It also struck me as a deadly dangerous roadway. Several times, on the long straights, approaching passing cars got close enough for me to flick them several times with my Hellas and begin to scout appropriate off-road escape options. The fact the the 60 mph speed limit dipped to 45 mph at night told me that with all the wildlife out there, nighttime could turn the road into a killing field. Hit something big or go off the road out there at night and it would be awhile before anyone could ever get there to help, and chances would be good that something might drag you out into the swomps for dinner first. While I enjoyed the daytime ride, there is no way on God's green swompy earth I'd ride that road at night. After nearly a hundred miles, we pulled into a c-store before our final turn South to Florida City. With the poor attitudes of the store clerks and the guard inside the store, it was easy to tell we were on the Southern outskirts of Mijami, having just traded one form of wilderness for another.
It had rained steadily during our trek across the state and continued for out last 22 miles Southward. I never knew there was so much farmland out West of town, both sides of the road were either fields or packing houses. We pulled into a Chevron in Florida City to find out that our destination, the Everglades Hostel was just one block away. Thinking we'd save ourselves a later trip out in the pouring rain, Al and I each scored a cold sixer from the Chevron before heading the one block to the hostel. Not knowing the hostel's policy on alcohol, I left my sixer on the bike until we had checked in. This turned out not to be necessary as the hostel was explained to be an "obnoxious behavior" free zone, not an alcohol free zone. Phil and Pierre poked their heads out of the front door to welcome us and phoned the attendant to come and check us in. We paid for two nights ($30-private room, $15-dorm room bed per night) and were given our bed linens and towels before being taken on a tour of the facilities.
In talking beforehand with Larry, I think all of us "hostel virgins" were a little apprehensive as to what we'd find. I was astounded as we made our tour, this place was COOL! It was a large turn of the 20th century house that had been converted to a hostel. Each of the dorm "bedrooms" had it's own bathroom and bunk beds sleeping no more than 6 people per room. There was a huge garden area out back where some tents were pitched and there were covered table areas for eating, and partying. There was a separate building with the kitchen facilities, computer room (free internet) and big screen tv room, the hostel even offered free long-distance phonecalls to anywhere in the US. There was even a communal refrigerator to keep our beverages cold in. Outside the kitchen under the overhand, was a big griddle we were told we could cook ourselves pancakes on 24/7 if we wished. I'm pretty sure us "hostel virgins" were not the only ones with some apprehension. I think we all tried to convince the nice attendant that we were not unruly, obnoxious,"bikers" with the same vehemence with which she tried to convince us that they weren't a bunch of reefer toking, leftover from the 60's, flower children. I'm pretty sure we were all successful in our "convincing". Interesting enough, the hostel residents actually ranged in age from the early 20's to near 70 and most seemed to be "enviro-enthusiasts" using the hostel as a "base camp" for explorations into the Everglades National Park. We adjourned to the "outdoor living room" for cold beers and conversation. Soon, I noticed Larry Buck had arrived and was being taken on his own private tour of the hostel. He had the same look of pleasant surprise on his face that had been on mine not too much earlier.
Al, Jo and I had ridden about 6 hours and hadn't eaten anything all day,
I'm sure we weren't the only one's thinking about dinner. Phil had arrived
earlier in the day and had good things to say about the Mexican restaurant
across the street. Larry joined us from his tour and provided yet another
surprise of this hostel. They served dinner to their "residents" for the
COGly sum of $3.00 and a few minutes of post-meal dishwashing efforts. At
7PM, an all-you-can-eat feast of enchiladas, black beans and rice, salad and
bread pudding for desert was served. Afterwards, we were all so stuffed it
was all we could do to waddle to the kitchen for our dishwashing duties.
Phil kept repeating that he'd NEVER eat Mexican food again and I think the rest of us were filling out our applications to Jack Tollett's Texas Methane
Producers Association. Gathered around the covered table, Phil gave us a
briefing on and demonstrated a nifty new invention of his, a two piece
lengthwise "bearing" that installs over the Connie shifter tang which he
purports will make shifting much smoother. His enthusiasm was contagious as
a few of us had him install his "Shiftsnik" on our bikes before the weekend
ended. A few more beers each and one by one, we peeled off for bed to rest
up for our action packed Saturday. A couple times during the night, I awaken
to hear it raining outside, things are not looking good for a dry ride to
Key West.
Early the next morning, activity from the adjoined bath stirs me awake and I ask the resident walking out what time it was. "20 till 7" he replies, and I figure I'd better get a shower while the gettin' is good. I finish, step out into the the room and slip my watch on, glancing at it. Whaaa??...it's only 6AM. Ain't no tellin' what time zone the prior bather was living in. I get dressed and head next door for coffee, stopping along the way at my bike to snag my RatShack weather radio. Soon the rest of our merry band gathers around the radio, coffee in hand and listens to the soggy news. There's a stationary front sitting right on top of us that is not going anywhere until sometime Sunday. We all pretty much resign ourselves that this weekend is gonna turn into an on-bike SCUBA certification trip. There was still enough time before we had to meet Paulie at the Chevron for Larry, AL and I to have a little pancake making contest. Boy, did those warm, buttery, syrupy cakes really go well with that coffee. Before heading over to top off my tank, I took a few minutes to zip my waterproof jacket liner in and slip my Saran (Wrap) Quick Cover "condoms" over my Valentine and CB radio. Over at the Chevron, I ran into Paulie and "Pirate John" from the LDR list. Soon after the assigned departure time of 8, we were all gassed up and ready to roll.
The ride to Key West would be 125 miles over mostly 2 laned US1 with speed limits of 55 mph dipping to 45 mph as you enter each of the populated Keys (islands). Group riding in the Keys is difficult, complicated mainly by"mainlanders" failing to properly synchronize themselves to Keys Standard Time. Everything in the Keys happens very lackadaisically, in a purposeful non-hurried, whenever-we-get-around-to-it manner. Not knowing or adapting to this fact is likely to drive a visitor stark raving mad with frustration. Synchronization to KST for me traditionally takes place ASAP after crossing the (Key) Largo bridge. The process is quite simple butt very effective. One simply pulls over to the side of the road and ceremoniously removes ones watch and places it in the glove compartment or in this case, a tank bag. This process helps greatly with the unrealalistic expectation in the Keys of anything occurring in any timely manner. It is also suggested that the "reverse-synchronization" take place prior to crossing the Largo bridge when departing the Keys. Along the way, hurried cage drivers not properly synced to KST had broken up our riding group. Larry and I pulled over in Islamorada for a quick cup of coffee and to sync ourselves to KST, ahhhh.., we felt Much Better Now being in the proper Keys frame of mind.
Larry and I had a good time chatting along the way on the CB, pointing out to each other our own various personal points of interest along the way. On Big Pine Key lives the major potion of the endangered species, the Key deer. These are a sub-species of the Virginia whitetail deer standing less than 36" tall and weighing less than 80 lbs, about the size of an Afghan hound and just about as stupid. They are found mainly on Big Pine and No Name Key and number less than 800 in total. On Big Pine, I found it interesting that for several miles, they had placed 10' high chain-link fencing immediately off the roadway to protect the few free roaming Key deer on the island. It's too bad the weather was so crappy, a group visit to the Key Deer Refuge on Big Pine would have made for an interesting side stop. At one point, Larry and I were menaced by a hurried maniac in a red Ford pick-up, a poor soul obviously NOT synched to KST. I had watched in my mirrors as this jerk had sped up, forced his way through traffic, and passed in obvious and dangerous no passing zones. He forced his way into hardly any space between Larry and I and then zoomed past Larry at his first chance. Larry and I had a good laugh a few miles later when we discovered that there is a Traffic God and today, he was driving a Florida Highway Patrol Camaro which which was lit up and pulled in behind Mr. I'm-Not-Going-Anywhere-For-Awhile red pick-up truck. I had to resist a very strong temptation to pull over and have a nice chat with the FHP trooper re; the antics of this moron that Larry and I had witnessed earlier that perhaps the trooper had missed.
We finally arrived on Key West proper and began to make our way to the South end of the island. As we snaked our way through the narrow streets to the Half Shell Raw Bar I couldn't help butt notice that the stops lights were out. Hmmm. Larry and I pulled into the parking lot just minutes behind the rest of the group as they were still peeling off their riding gear. Glancing up and the rolling black and grey sky, I suggested to Larry that we might want to put our folded riding gear on our bikes then cover them with our 1/2 covers. This proved later to be Really Good idea. Once seated inside we discovered that the power outage that had darkened the stoplights along the way had also effected the whole South end of the island, luckily, there were still many items available from the menu. I myself had the Conch chowder which was still warm since before the power outage while others feasted on dozens of oysters, clams, peel and eat shrimp, salads, and smoked fish. While fountain sodas were temporarily not flowing, trust me, there was plenty of cold beer and tea remaining to take care of our thirsts. Paulie could not have known in advance what a wise idea it had been for him to choose a raw bar for us, as the lack of power there only limited menu selections instead of eliminating the whole menu. There was a great view from most all tables of the surrounding Lands End Marina and during a break in the showers I took a short stroll around the docks checking out the boats and chatting with their skippers. Upon my return to the table, Larry and Al, the two more avid boaters in our group were surprised to hear of the $65 per night dockage fee for a 30' boat with no break in price for a week stay. Folks, Nothing comes cheap in Key West.
After a couple hours eating and drinking and chatting, it was time to suit up and get ready to get ready to head back to Florida City. Of course, on par with the weekend so far, the rain really picked up as we mounted up and it was decided to abbreviate our sight seeing tour. At most of the Fla. COG'er rides so far, I've been the last one to finally get my riding clogs on, tunes ear plugs in, bike key located and be ready to roll, hence the term "pulling a 2ski". At Key West the term was at least temporarily renamed "pulling a Paulie" as we all sat there in the deluge ready to ride. We did manage to make it a few streets over to the Most Southern Point in the US monument where we coerced a stander by to take our group pic before Paulie led us on a circuitous scenic route along the oceans edge of the Island and Northward off the Key.
The ride back was pretty much uneventful except that the rain was much steadier and the wind had picked up considerably. Crossing the two lane 7 mile bridge just South of Marathon with it's lower guard rails, and wet roadway in a stiff breeze raised the pucker factor just a bit. Pulling over for a break in Marathon, I mentioned to the group, "well, if anyone had a bridge phobia, that would have just either cured you or killed you". The stationary front appeared to really be centered over the South mainland as the closer we got back to Florida City the harder it rained. I was glad to be riding at the rear of the group when rounding a bend, a car driving in front of us ran through a large amount of standing water shooting a huge wave up into the air. As Larry and I dismounted in the pouring rain at the hostel, I chuckled and told him, "you know, I'd bother with putting my cover on the bike, butt it's about as wet now as it can possibly get". The area right in front of the hostel door was flooded in about 6" of water with it flowing into the front door. Larry and I just grinned at each other when I said, "Boot Test!" and we waded right through it in our Oktars. This weekend was showing what a big difference it makes to be properly prepared for the conditions. In spite of the continuous downpour we were still having a great time as with proper riding gear, most of us were remarkably dry. My Motoport suit and Oktar boots had worked fantastically and after riding all day in the rain, I was 100% dry as a bone. With their Saran Quick cover "condoms", the electronics on my bike had not even skipped a beat.
Everyone took a few minutes in their rooms to peel off their riding gear before heading back to the awning "living room" in the back yard. It was near 6 PM and our groaning stomachs were relieved to hear that once again, the hostel would be serving dinner. We all ran and got our hand lettered cardboard signs to hang around our necks that read, "Florida COGers Will Wash Dishes For Food" and got into the chow line ready to put the severe hurtin' on some BBQ chicken, mashed potatoes, french bread and salad. After dinner, we had a few hours to attempt (successfully) to finish our remaining ample supply of beer before the end of our visit. We called it a kinda early night as Paulie had set a 7AM departure time from the Chevron for our group breakfast on South Beach in order to beat the possibly horrid Mijami traffic.
Sunday morning, there was barely enough time for a quick cup of coffee from the hostel kitchen before we had to meet Paulie at the Chevron for our escort to the Front Porch Grill on South Mijami Beach for breakfast. Luckily there was just a light drizzle as we made our way towards downtown Mijami. Paulie had done an exquisite job of planning for this weekend butt finally fate bit him right in his butt. Though he had checked and double-checked for traffic complications, he hd been given some bad information and his routing led us all right into the bowels of the running of the 2004 Miami Tropical Marathon. We were stopped several times and made several detours to accommodate the runners, all 5000+ of them. If I had an intentions of ever starting running again, there would be second thoughts after this, I saw several runners that looked like they were yards away from a face planting, concrete eating, heart attack. It damn sure didn't look like any kind of fun to me. Riding across the Rickenbacker Causeway into Miami Beach is always a thrill to me as it borders the cruise ship terminal and there's always a large number of the monstrous vessels docked and lined up only a couple hundred yards from the roadway. After a quick jog North along the beach we all pulled in an backed against the curb across the street from the cafe.
Once again, Paulie had excelled in his rally planning as this place had some great food and was definitely a BIG step up from the hostel in ambiance complete with the cutie, pretty boy South Beach waiter staff. The weather gods were not quite finished with us yet though, soon after sitting down under the outdoor awning, it began to pour cats, dogs, puppies and kittens. Even this final deluge was not able to drench any of the enthusiasm or fun for our group this weekend. It really was amazing how little negative effect the terrible weather had on our good time the whole trip through. Everyone had pretty much gotten used to the fact that it was gonna rain and just didn't let it bother us, again, this being largely due to us all being properly attired for the conditions. I think all of us felt a little sorry for Jo though as the almost non-existent windshield on her Seca II didn't afford her near the weather protection of our larger bikes. Still, she was one hell of a trooper with not a single discouraging word from her being heard anywhere on the whole trip. I know everyone noticed this as several guys gave her a big hug and said they'd ride with her anywhere. Though the minutes of our get together were waning, the excitement was not. Lending truth to the saying, "All the nuts roll down to Florida", twice, Larry and Paulie had to run out into the street in the rain, hollering and waving their arms to stop moronic touristas from backing into our parked row of bikes as they attempted to squeeze their rental cars into the very tight parking spots. I know everyone one of our hearts skipped a beat both times, imagining the domino effect of falling bikes and busted plastic. Thanks guys, yall saved our butts.
Soon, it was time for us to suit up and head our respective ways home. Paulie was nice enough to escort us all out of South Beach and pont Al, Jo and I towards our run Northward to Alligator Alley and our Eastward dash across the state. As I saw Larry give his signal to pull away from our group on his way North, he and I said our goodbyes to each other on our CB's. Larry and I make a pretty good team, it was good seeing him again and as always, I can't wait till our next visit together.
Just about 10 miles North of Mijami proper, Al, Jo and I made our Eastward turn and it was like a big light switch above flicked on. We made the turn right onto dry roads, and sunlit blue skies.
Stands to reason doesn't it?
{Authors postscript; Needless to say, it was too good to be true. While Al, Jo and I had warm temps and blue skies for over 300 miles on our ride home, after we separated, just 30 miles from MY house, it began to monsoon again.
Special Thanks for this ride go out to Paul Heydemann, Fla. co-AAD for his great job in planning and escort duties. While a few of us were curious about the hostel idea, Paulie has shown us all an attractive, viable nationwide alternative to camping for about the same price. Thanks also to Al, Larry, Joe, Phil and Pierre for being such troopers and not letting the weather dampen the weekend. To the almost 100 remaining Fla. COG'ers, yall missed yet another great event, it's time yall pencil the NEXT Fla. COG ride into your schedules!}
Your Rover Reporter,B2
Bruce M. Barge, Ocala, FL
'98 Concours "Barfrocket"
Chatty Moron #1,IBA #4133,COG #5437
-Life's Two Most Important Lessons-
1) Don't tell people everything you know.
2)