Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Blountstown to Apalachicola, FL

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According to the Weather Channel, it looked likely that there would be rain during the day's ride. We packed all our rain gear and were in front of the motel early so that we wouldn't miss the bus to the ride start, which meant being there well before 6:30 a.m. There was always a bit of anxiety about making sure we didn't get left behind, with no way to get to the start of the day's ride.

The terrain for the day's ride was rather boring, more pine trees and sandy soil. We passed through Apalachicola National Forest, the largest national forest in Florida, which includes Tate's Hell Wildlife Management Area within Tate's Hell State Forest. The state forest was purchased in the 90's from forest companies in order to help protect Apalachicola Bay. Just before the first rest stop it started to rain. Since it was less than a mile to the stop we (I) decided to try to make it before it rained hard. We didn't, but luckily the tour photographer had set up his tent nearby and we crowded under it with a couple of other riders to escape the rain. Kerie wasn't happy, since we had plenty of rain gear but hadn't stop to put it on.

Lunch stop. Notice
the long line behind Kerie
At the rest stop we got dressed, which of course meant it would not rain again for the rest of the day. We followed state routes 12 and 379 for most of the day. The road was under construction in several areas but the good news was that a shoulder was being added which would make cycling conditions much better in the future. The Virginia Dept. of Transportation could learn a lot from the Florida DOT.

The worst was yet to come. As we approached Apalachicola, a long bridge and causeway loomed ahead. The wind had been strong throughout the day, coming from the south and as we turned west toward Apalachicola we had to lean left to keep from getting blown over. This was bearable on the main road. On the bridge it seemed life threatening.
The stoker's view:
Approach to Apalachicola
The outside wall of the bridge was very low, about 3 or 4 feet high. Whenever a semi-trailer truck would pass, a strong gust of wind would blow us toward the wall. I had visions of us crashing into it and one of us toppling over into the water.

We made it to Apalachicola without mishap. Our digs for the night, the Gibson Inn, a lovely old Victorian hotel, was located at the base of the bridge so we wheeled up to the front entrance and checked in. We were lucky and found a sheltered place for the tandem on the covered porch near our room.

Apalachicola is a small town, with a couple of restaurants and several tourist related shops. There were also a few real stores where we could find drinks and fruit.
The Gibson Inn
Not knowing much about the place we made our nightly aimless walk around town looking for a place to eat. We ended up at the Apalachicola Seafood Grill & Steakhouse, with the dubious distinction of being the home of the world's largest fried fish sandwich. I had some good fried oysters, a measly couple of overdone hush puppies, and some rich mango pie. We sat next to the bar and watched a threesome get smashed on martinis. We walked back to the inn just before a downpour.

Later I went down to the bar for a soda and ran into Dean, the FBI guy, and his two new roomates, two women he had met on an earlier tour. They were seeking refuge in his room to avoid camping in the rain.

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