Day 15 (29 May). Arkansas

From: El Dorado, AR

To: Mena, AR

Miles today: 206

Total miles: 3560

I got up bright and early to a sky that, like a sleeping dragon, was letting everyone know what was going to come later. Not just overcast, but a blochy mass of stratus clouds that meant highly unstable air.  I am now at the edge of the region that has been experiencing heavy rain every day for weeks.  It was only in the low 80’s, but the humidity had to have been 100%.  For me, this makes riding a challenge; but for those people who live here, it means they can’t harvest certain crops and can’t plant others.  Crop insurance is a mitigating factor. 

The plan was to get as far as I could before the day’s deluge began.  Unfortunately, the Arkansas Museum of Natural Resources was a mere 10 miles from my starting point.  I had to stop in. Built to recognize the oil boom (and bust) in Arkansas from about 1910-1930, my favorite exhibits showed the geology of the region, and real core samples from a mile down.  The exhibits on boom town life (saloons, boarding houses, rigger equipment) were great too.  They also have a nice display of replica dinosaur fossils (not from the immediate region) that are nicely organized.

Next I drove the 90 or so miles to the Crater of Diamonds State Park near Murfreesboro (Arkansas, not Tennessee – how can there be two towns with that name?).  I went via US 278 and 371, cutting over to AR 301.  The roads curved constantly, which was odd since there were no hills to speak of. 

Geographically, Arkansas is a transitional state. Above is Missouri, in the Midwest.  Below is Louisiana, in the Deep South.  To the east are Tennessee and Mississipi; to the west in Oklahoma.  Geologically, it is also a mix of several things.  It was formed by the mashing together of different tectonic plates, and as a result has mountain ranges.  It also has some extinct volcanoes within its boundaries. One of these is a pipe volcano, which are relatively rare and physically small but are known to be a source of diamonds.  Crater of Diamonds State Park sits on the remnants of this volcano.  It never worked commercially as a diamond mine, but now serves as a “dig your own” kind of park where, for $8 (plus equipment rental if you are more serious), you can dig up part of a 37-acre plowed field and sort through it for diamonds and other materials.  Lots of families were happily doing just this.  I did not dig, but found several pieces of green “volcanic tuff” that I consider totally worth the admission fee.

Digging for gemstones in Crater of Diamonds State Park, Arkansas

From there I drove another 50 miles or so, to the town of Nashville (what is it with Arkansas and the names of their towns?), and it was clear that the downpour would begin soon.  I decided to try to wait it out in the Starz Family Restaurant.  On all of the walls were pictures of the owners on their various motorcycle trips. I had come to the right place!  Two hours later, it looked like the worst was over and I headed for Mena some 80 miles away.  It rained for another hour or so, sometimes hard, but the roads were largely empty, the air was a pleasant 75 degrees, and the roads were winding into the Ouachita Mountains.  I cruised along at about 45 miles per hour and actually had a wonderful ride.

  

Ouachica Mountains in the rain

Day 14 (28 May). Mississippi & Louisiana

From: near Forest, MS

To: El Dorado, AR

Miles today: 353

Total miles: 3354

Two weeks on the road now.

Yesterday I drove through Meridian, Mississippi, on my way to the Jackson area.  I hate to say this, but the nicest part of Meridian I saw was the part near the Interstate, where the fast food restaurants and chain motels were.  On the other hand, I drove by TWO women’s clinics. One more impression: the police cars are painted an intimidating glossy black (at least I found them intimidating), and they have the phrase “For God and Country” written on the side.    

I drove into Jackson this morning via I-20, because I found the smaller roads were “not well maintained.”  Actually, even the Interstate was full of “speed bumps” and pot holes; doesn’t the money to maintain these come from the Feds?  I don’t understand.  Anyway, I drove through downtown and took some shots of the government buildings (this is the Mississippi State Capitol).  The Capitol building itself was having its dome redone, so here is a photo of the Mississippi Supreme Court building. Justice with a capital J!

Left: Mississippi State Supreme Court Building.  Right: Seven Flags Over Mississippi.

I then drove to the north end of town to see the Mississippi Museum of Natural Science.  It was in a big park area, and I drove through a pretty nice neighborhood to get there, and still there were sawhorses over major potholes that had clearly been there for some time.  Mississippi, what is the deal with your roads?

The museum itself was fairly large, and I thought the limited number of exhibits that they had were quite good.  They had a great exhibit on dogs and their evolution.  Way in the back they had a display on Darwin that actually says the following about “Origin of Species”: “What troubled people at the time [1859, when the book was published] was not so much that a species could change, but that natural selection – rather than the Victorian notion of a creator – was the guiding force.”  This is a subtle but important point that is well-stated, in my view.  (Of course it was not just dead Victorians who are troubled by this point.)  Here is a photo of this exhibit, along with a photo of the official fossil of Mississippi (an early whale – very cool!)  What is interesting about this is that at some point the Mississippi State Government had to approve of a fossil.

Sub-exhibit on Darwin in the Mississippi Museum of Natural Science

Zygorhiza, The Offical State Fossil of Mississippi.

From Jackson I drove down the southern quarter or so – 90 miles – of the famous Natchez Trace, or rather a nearby road called the Nachez Trace Parkway.  (The Natchez Trace, for some reason not called the Natchez Trail, apparently goes back thousands of years.  In the early days of America, it was one of our few “National Roads.”  It runs about 450 miles between present-day Natchez, Mississippi and Nashville, Tennessee.  It was very nice riding – the first well-maintained road I experienced in Mississippi. I had it almost all to myself the whole way. I did see a handful of motorcyclists and a similar number of bicyclists going the other way.  It had fairly heavy woods on all sides, so “views” were rare.  When I turned off the cycle on a break, I could hear all sorts of birds and other wildlife.

I entered the town of Natchez, which is located on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. Because of the importance of the river and the immunity of the elevated area from flooding, this site has apparently been continuously occupied for thousands of years.  There are a number of antebellum mansions in the area, none of which were destroyed in the Civil War, and there is legalized gaming/gambling on some permanently-moored river boats.  I ate lunch there.

From Natchez I took US 425 over the Mississippi and into Louisiana.  US 425, which is divided four-lane, turns north.  I took it as far as the town of Gilbert, where I veered off into local roads.  (LA 128 & 4 west, then LA 133 north, then LA 15 northwest.)  These roads were fantastic riding, some of the best so far.  The Louisiana landscape seems to be a bit more “open” than Mississippi.  Some of this is due to a greater percentage of land under cultivation (farms), but some of it could be the soil and water table, which seems to be a lot closer to the surface.  Below are roadside snapshots from Mississippi and Louisiana, for comparison.

View from small roads in Mississippi (left; Natchez Trace Parkway), and Louisiana (right, LA 133)

There wasn’t much in Monroe for me to see.  I checked the weather and it seemed clear at the moment.  I was enjoying riding these back roads so much I didn’t want to stop!  So I pressed on for Arkansas on LA 143 and 2.

About half an hour later it became apparent that the afternoon thunderstorms that just “pop up” in these parts were on top of me with a vengeance.  I pulled over into a gas station & garage parking lot in the small city of Farmerville to don my rain gear.  The guys who worked there told me I was crazy and that I should hunker down with them instead.  I took them up on it, and had a great time with them while the storm blew through.  Thanks guys!

Friends In Need in Farmerville, Louisiana

Things went smoothly after that, and 45 minutes later I arrived in El Dorado, Arkansas, where I am now.  I have now moved far enough west so that the weather channel is on all the time around here. There have been storms pounding Texas and Oklahoma for weeks now, leading to severe flooding, and I am probably going to be skirting the edges of these storms for the next several days.  Lots of early morning riding for the foreseeable future.

Day 13 (27 May). Mostly Alabama

From: Montgomery, AL

To: near Forest, MS

Miles today: 224

Total miles: 3001

Long post today.

Fair weather when I got up, and I drove the 10 miles or so to downtown Montgomery, Alabama.  After strolling around a bit, I went to the official Visitor Center (in the old train station) and watched the short video loop.  The message was pretty clear: blacks and whites together were asking you to come visit Montgomery!  We’ve got Jefferson Davis AND we’ve got Rosa Parks!  Plus Hank Williams! Come on over!  I had to admire their enthusiasm. 

There are, in my opinion, some problems with Montgomery becoming a southern tourist destination like Charleston or Savannah.  The first is that the waterfront (where all the cotton was shipped) is on the narrow end of a hair-pin turn in the Alabama River.  Thus, there is just not that much “waterfront.”  Second, when the railroad arrived in the 1840’s, it cut right across the shoreline, between the docks and the town.  Thus there are no old warehouses right along the river that can be turned into shops and restaurants.  Third, the historical (that is, antebellum) section of town is actually pretty small, and mostly occupied now by lawyers offices (this is the state capitol). The largest buildings downtown seem to be new hotels.  There is nothing wrong with any of this, but it does mean it is harder create a tourist haven.  I do note that Maxwell Air Force Base is nearby (I saw two F-16’s land while driving by), and Hyundai opened a manufacturing plant there some years ago; both of these provide good jobs for the region.

Left: The Montgomery Waterfront -- pretty much all of it.  Right: Same spot, other direction; pedestrian tunnel under the train  tracks

One thing that does apparently bring in tourists by the busload (literally) is the Rosa Parks Museum. I took the 30-minute multi-media guided tour, and it pushed all the right buttons. The recorded narration told the canonical version of the story: that Rosa Parks spontaneously decided one day not to give up her seat, and when she was arrested the plan for the bus boycott spread like wildfire. The true story is actually better, and the guide did spend some time discussing it. In fact, the entire incident was carefully (and brilliantly) planned by a group of blacks and whites working together for months ahead of time.  Rosa Parks was selected to be the “face” of the boycott movement, over other volunteers. Also importantly, when the bus boycott began, the white riders also avoided the buses. Some were apparently afraid of violence, but many whites stayed away because they supported the boycott!  This takes nothing away from the courage of Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King (a local reverend who took up the cause), or any of the blacks that took the brunt of the viciousness that followed.  But it does say something positive about the whites of Alabama; they were not and are not the monolithic racist block that those of us not from the region often presume them to be.  Although the gerrymandering of US House Districts in these states does not help this cause. 

I was one of three guests on this (9 am Wednesday morning) tour.  The other two people were a retired white couple from Florida.  I asked the (black) tour guide afterwards if more blacks or whites visited the museum. He had to think about it; apparently, like New Yorkers and the Statue of Liberty, not a lot of locals of either color come by.  But on the whole, he said, probably more whites; but the real situation is that lots of the visitors are from other countries, including India (the guys who gave us Gandhi)! 

After that I rode the 50 miles to Selma, and rode over the legendary Edmond Pettis Bridge.  On the other side was the town of Selma; now THIS would make a great tourist town! Block after block of lovely historical buildings.  I would spend a weekend there over Montgomery any time.  

My motorcycle on the Edmond Pettis Bridge

Snapshots of Selma.  Lots of attractive buildings. 

There was a small National Park Service museum at the base of the bridge that has been there for about four years now that showed the old newsreels of the violence 50 years ago.  The most disturbing thing I saw all day is shown below.

I had been traveling along US 80, a well-maintained 4-lane divided highway, to get to Selma. Nice road, but like Interstates you don’t really get to see much of the local scenery from it.  So I took some much smaller roads to the south that basically paralleled US 80: Alabama 22, 5, 66, and 28 combined.  These roads were gorgeous, very reminiscent of the Virginia piedmont roads that I enjoy driving so much when home.  Lush scenery, gentle curves and hills; this was the best “riding quality” that I have experienced so far on this trip.  My only regret is that I did not see any other riders out enjoying these fine roads on this fine day.

Alabama Countryside

By the time I found my way back to US 80, however, big thunderclouds were brewing.  I donned my rain gear and for the rest of the afternoon moved between conditions that altered between overcast and scary. There was one point after I crossed into Mississippi where the clouds were appearing to descend, and there were huge wind gusts; I honestly looked around for tornados. 

I am settled in a small motel in the Bienville National Forest in Mississippi, outside the town of Forest.  More tales from the Deep South tomorrow!

Day 12 (26 May). Tallahassee, New Tires, and Rain

From: Perry, FL

To: Montgomery, AL

Miles today: 252

Total miles: 2777

When I started out this morning, the air was oppressively muggy – a storm on the way.  I drove US 27 to Tallahassee, home of Florida State University (the Seminoles).  Concerned about the tread on my tires, I turned into Orion Motorsports.  They agreed with my concerns, had the tires I needed in stock, and replaced them in about three hours, all for a very reasonable fee.  I don’t mess around with brakes or tires.  Thanks guys!

While my bike was being worked on, I explored a bit of the city. I had intended to go to the

Museum of Florida History, but it was closed for renovations.  So instead I went to the Capitol Buildings; there are two, the old one (now a museum) and the new one, a 22-story tower just behind the old one.  Both are located on a hill (!), something I was beginning to think Florida didn’t have any of.  It is about 200 feet high and quite steep.  The old Capitol has been restored to how it looked in 1903 or thereabouts, and many of the chambers are filled with exhibits about the history of the state and its government.  It was nicely done. Then I went to the new building, of which the entire 22^nd floor is an enclosed observation deck; great for social functions, and nice views.  Here are a couple of shots.

View from the new Florida State Capitol, Tallahassee; old Capitol building is at the bottom.

Look -- Hills in Florida!

With the motorcycle ready at about 12:30, I girded my loins (put on rain gear) and headed out into the remnants of the storm that has been pounding Texas and Oklahoma for the past week.  I rode the 200 miles northwest to Montgomery, Alabama, in almost constant rain, but only one real downpour (and I was able to sit that out in an Arby’s). 

When this is ahead of you at 10 am, you know you're going to get wet.

If you are going to ride for multiple days in the eastern half of the US, at some point you are going to have to ride through rain. I’ve actually been lucky to have avoided it so far, other than the thunderstorm in the Everglades. You put on your rain gear, you stick to main roads, and you keep going.  It isn’t that bad most of the time; it was much cooler than yesterday (75 degrees versus 95 degrees), and everyone tends to drive a little more carefully.  Some of the biggest challenges are with the helmet visor; no wipers for the outside, and no defogger for the inside. You cope in various ways.  I have waterproof gloves, but they are big and bulky; I don’t intend to use them unless it is also cold.  Thus, the gloves I do wear quickly become soaking wet.  This is not great, but it is not nearly as bad as the hiking in wet boots I used to do when I was younger. 

When I crossed into Alabama (from Georgia), I entered the Central Time Zone.  

Day 11 (25 May) Northwest Florida

From: Lake Placid, FL

To: Perry, FL

Miles today: 288

Total miles: 2525

Another travel day, although I didn’t make 300 miles.  The goal was to follow US 27 north between Tampa on the left and Orlando on the right, but the number of traffic lights finally drove me over to I-75.  The only real stop of the day was in Gainesville, where I visited the Florida Museum of Natural History.  This museum is actually on the campus of the University of Florida (the Gators). 

The FMNH was actually a bit smaller than I expected.  It had the mandatory section on the current fauna and flora of Florida, and a nice room on the prehistoric peoples that lived here.  Artifacts have been dated to 12,000 years ago, which is about as early as could possibly be; these people basically took the route through Alaska in reverse that I will be taking this summer, and the route through the glaciers didn’t open up until about this time.  Interestingly, among these artifacts are worked copper pieces from the Great Lakes; wherever humans go, trade follows.  Another part of the display noted that the current sea level was not established until about 6,000 years ago.  Florida, it seems, has always been ground zero for climate and sea level change.

One of the temporary exhibits is Sue, the famous T. Rex that normally lives at the Chicago Field Museum.  (The fossil, the most complete T. Rex found to that time, was found on private property, and it looked like it would be sold to a private collector rather than end up in a museum.  Then McDonalds (!) stepped up and bought it for something like $6 million, and donated it to the Field Museum.  I would like to say that this is why I eat at McDonalds so much, but I’m afraid that this isn’t really factual!)  Anyway, it seems that Florida (or at least its museum) has Dinosaur envy; they note with a hint of sadness that Florida was underwater for the entire era.  The do have some nice mastodon and mammoth fossils, though.

Mastodon (left) and Mammoth (right) skeletons, both found in northern Florida.

And yes, in case you were wondering, the FLORIDA Museum of Natural History does have a small but nicely done exhibit on climate change.  Here are some photos.  I am sorry the words are too blurry to read.   

A museum in Gainesville, Florida discusses climate change.

One particularly nice thing they do, in my view, is explicitly define ‘weather’ and ‘climate’ to show that they are not the same. The exhibit, aimed at youngsters good for me, states:

            Weather is different from climate.

            Weather is the day-to-day condition of the atmosphere at a certain place.

            Climate is the average weather pattern in a place over 30 or more years.

I cleared out of Gainesville via I-75 again before cutting back over to US 27.  I am in the small town of Perry, FL.  It has a surprisingly large number of hotels for a town that seems to be little more than the county seat, but the brochures in the lobby (all for Tampa) imply that it is a good stopping off point from other states.

My front tire seems to be overly worn. I’m going to try to see if I can get it replaced in Tallahassee tomorrow, about 50 miles from here. 

Day 10 (24 May). Northern Everglades

From: Key West, FL

To: Lake Placid, FL

Miles today: 317

Total miles: 2237

A travel day today, meaning one of 300 miles or more. I left Key West at 8 am, but it still took me about three hours to reach the mainland.  It’s just a slow drive. From there I retraced my steps up 997, skirting the Miami region, and then headed west on US 41 across the Everglades. There are essentially no towns (or gas stations) along this route, but several places where you can get air boat rides and the like. I stopped at one of four official National Park facilities, this one in the Shark River Valley, and took their two-hour tram tour out to an observation tower and back.

I found that I was quite ignorant of the Everglades ecosystem, at least in this region.  First, there are only a few inches of muddy soil covering a vast extent of limestone.  No peat bogs here, although other parts of the Everglades have some.  In many places the limestone sticks up through the ground.  Second, this region has two very distinct modes, corresponding to the dry season and the rainy season.  In the dry season, which we are currently at the very end of, this entire area is “sawgrass prairie” with scattered small outcroppings of different ecosystems. If the local elevation rises by a foot, you get dry areas, with trees. If it drops a foot, you get a water hole, with different vegetation and occasionally an alligator.  Here ares some pix; the second is a picture from the Shark Valley observation tower, inside one of these islands, looking out at the sawgrass prairie and more islands. 

Sawgrass Prairie with "Islands"  - End of the Dry Season.

View of the Sawgrass Prairie from inside one of the larger islands.

In the wet season, which it should become almost any day, this entire area will be covered with water a few feet deep, with the islands and tops of the sawgrass poking out.  On the Florida panhandle, there is a north-south ridge west of Miami that peaks at 30 to 40 feet above sea level.  On the Tampa (west) side, there is a similar ridge about 20 feet high. In between is the “shark river valley,” no more than 8 feet above sea level. In the rainy season, the entire valley becomes a giant river, 50 miles wide and 2-3 feet deep, flowing at a incredibly slow rate of about 100 feet per day toward the Gulf of Mexico.  

The park personnel discuss the problems associated with that dike I saw around Lake Okeechobee a lot.  That lake used to be part of the ecosystem and would flood every year at this time; the dike, built in the early 1930’s, changed that, as did the numerous water channels cut through the northern Everglades to provide water for Miami. To their credit, the state of Florida and the US are apparently making a significant long-term effort to restore some of the earlier balance. 

Graphic from the Shark Valley Observation Tower

After leaving the park, I continued west on US 41, then turned north on FL 29.  This was a beautifully empty 2-lane road that I blazed by various thunderstorms on (without getting wet). This road ends at US 27, 4-lane divided highway but also mostly empty.  The landscape here is one of relatively short trees and pasture land.  It is very green.

Day 8 & 9 (22-23 May). Key West

From: Homestead, FL

To: Key West, FL

Miles today: 150

Total miles: 1920

On Friday, 22 May, I drove the 120 miles or so of Route 1 along the Florida Keys.  I have to say, most of Route 1 in the Keys – which is to say, on the physical islands – looks pretty much like Route 1 in Virginia; strip shopping centers, low-rise office buildings, gas stations. In the spans in between, over long bridges, it was lovely but so bright I had to wear sunglasses.  The speed limit for most of the route was 45 mph. 

I took a break about halfway, on the island of Marathon, and stopped in at the Florida Keys Aquarium Encounters, a small but really cool “petting zoo” for rays, sharks, and other aquatic creatures.  Here is a picture of me holding a living horseshoe crab.  The rules were that the animal had to stay in the water and the camera had to stay out of the water. I interacted similarly with a sea urchin and a starfish.  I had never handled any of these organisms while they were alive before. 

Live horsehsoe crab

I arrived at Key West at about 12  pm, and felt required to drive to the southern terminus of Route 1.  (I had done the same thing at the northern terminus of Route 1 in Kent, Maine, three years ago.)  It turns out the other side of the street, the “start,” had more attractive signage, so here is a picture of my motorcycle there.  Woo hoo!

End of the Road. 

I found the hotel and met up with Karen, who had flown in via Miami a couple of hours earlier. After all the nights in inexpensive motels, the difference of a luxury Hyatt was quite noticeable.  I took a long, hot shower – it was hot and humid the whole way – and then we walked around the island a bit.  Later we had dinner with some friends who happened to also be in town (hi to Liz, Pete, and Michelle). 

The next day we took a longer walk around the island, a couple of miles and about 4-5 hours.  We visited the Hemmingway house, still populated by direct descendents of the extra-toed cats that “Papa” himself collected.  Then we stood in line (!) to have our picture taken at the marker signifying the southernmost point in the continental US.  Here we are!

Karen and me in Key West. 

We toured a butterfly conservatory on the way back, and had lunch at Jimmy Buffet’s official restaurant, unsurprisingly named “Margaritaville.”  Naturally we both had the “cheeseburger in paradise.”  Later in the evening we took a sunset dinner cruise that did seem aimed at people younger and more energetic that us, but being out on the water near sunset was very nice. 

A few observations about Key West.  In many ways, it is a conventional beach town: bars, restaurants, T-shirt shops, and the like. But there are a couple of odd things about it.  First, there are essentially no beaches, something odd for a beach town.  No one was swimming, and no one walked around in bathing suits and flip flops.  The shore itself is made of coral debris for the most part, difficult to walk on.  Instead, there are docks, and tons of boats to take you out.  A second odd thing, perhaps related to the first, is that there are almost no children in Key West.  Therefore, no miniature golf courses, arcades, or rides.  Or even a boardwalk.  Third, of course, is that is an island – a very small island.  As a result every square foot is occupied with something, at least on the western side.  Finally, like the Outer Banks and unlike (say) the Florida coast, Key West is difficult to get to.  People seem to come for a week, or at least a weekend, rather than a day.  Karen and I both found the place to be great, albeit hot and humid.

I pull out early tomorrow for the mainland; Karen will enjoy paradise for another day. 

Day 7 (21 May). South Florida

From: West Palm Beach, FL

To: Homestead, FL

Miles today: 202

Total miles: 1790

The only apparent way to avoid the traffic congestion of the greater Miami-Ft Lauderdale metropolitan area from the motel is to ride west, to the middle of the state, and then turn south.  I took US 98 west, and as hoped traffic cleared out after about ten miles. The west road and the south road (US 17) intersect at the edge of Lake Okeechobee, and I wanted to see it.  Interestingly, there is a dike (not a levee!) about 30 feet high that apparently goes all the way around it, presumably for flood control.  As a result, you can’t see the lake from the road.  So I drove around the nice little town of Pahokee, Florida, and found a way over the dike to a small park with a cement pier for boats and fishing.

Lake Okeechobee,from a park in the town of Pahokee.

The day was hot, so I continued turned south through the northern parts of Everglades National Park. It was hot and humid (it is still just May), and very flat with few trees.  The periphery of the park included some farmland.  US 17 led a two-lane road, FL 997, that went directly to Homestead (at the south end of the Miami region, and on the cusp of the Keys).  I took it, and it was remarkably empty for all but the last ten miles.  I pulled into a hotel in Homestead around 3:30 pm; this was to avoid the afternoon thunderstorm, which I now expected.    

South Florida vista.  Tall corn for May 21!

The location of the hotel was near the beginning of state road 9336, which is one of the few roads through the southern Everglades.  It goes to the nominal town of Flamingo, on the south coast, about 50 miles away.  I asked the hotel people if the afternoon storm was inevitable (“you can set your watch by it,” someone else had said), but they told me that it was too early in the season for that. I looked at my “weatherbug” app, and it said All Clear for the next several hours, so I thought I’d take the chance.  I brought my rain gear just in case (leaving most of my stuff behind at the hotel), ignored the rumbles of thunder I heard in the background, and headed out.

I was about 10 miles past the edge of town and into the Everglades when it became viscerally apparent that there would, indeed, be a significant thunderstorm that afternoon.  I saw a bolt of lightning actually hit the ground (disconcerting on a motorcycle!), and saw the earth actually glow orange and then red for a fraction of a second.  The thing about the Everglades that drew my attention at that particular moment is that it is really, really flat, and I was just about the highest thing around.  I turned around and headed back, but it was already too late to avoid the deluge and high winds.  The rain was so heavy I could only see a few tens of feet in front of me.  Eventually I got out of the park and telephone poles appeared (higher than me!).  Finally, I made it back to town.  Between the lightening and the torrential rain, I think I can say that I have never been so glad to see a traffic light in my life.

NOT what you want to see ten miles out into the Everglades!

OK, tomorrow the Florida Keys. 

Day 6 (20 May). Kennedy Space Center

From: Palatka, FL

To: West Palm Beach, FL

Miles today: 327

Total miles: 1588

Me and the amazing F-1 engines of the Saturn V

Northern Florida is a lot like southern Georgia; flat, marshy, and lots of young forests.  It is clear that logging is an important industry in these parts.  I rode south on FL 19 through the Ocala National Forest, doing my best to weave my way between the sprawling cities of Jacksonville, Gainesville, Daytona, and the enormous Orlando. 

Common sights in southern Georgia and Northern Florida. Trees grow fast here.

Northern Florida changes into central Florida in a couple of ways.  First, while there are still trees, there are no longer forests.  The logging trucks disappear from the roads.  Second, while there are still plenty of marshy areas, lakes become much more common.  I cut east on FL 46 to Titusville, and from there, Merritt Island and the Kennedy Space Center.

I had never been to KSC, yet it had always been a Mecca for me. As a child in the 1960’s, the space program and the Beatles were bright spots during the era of the Viet Nam War, racial equality struggles, and the “generation gap.”  I read a lot of science fiction at this age, and to me and many others I think we saw the manned space program, and the Apollo program in particular, as the future coming into existence before our eyes.  The classic 1968 movie “2001: A Space Odyssey” showed commercial flights to a space station so large that it rotated to produce artificial gravity, and had hotels in it.  There were shuttles back and forth to the moon, where there were several manned facilities.  It wasn’t hokey like the TV show “Lost In Space”; rather, the tone was “what will happen when all of this comes to pass in the near future?”  It all seemed so believable when combined with the actual Apollo program.  A science fiction writer of the time named Frederic Pohl wrote a memoir later entitled “The Way the Future Was.”  That phrase sums up my feelings about the Apollo program. 

I now know, of course, that the Space Race between the US and the USSR was a proxy war for the hearts and minds of the world in the post –WWII era, which had been fought with new high tech weapons systems: the atomic bomb, of course, but also radar, jet engines, and rockets.  Being able to put an A-bomb on a rocket and delivering it accurately was a pretty powerful combination, and this as much as anything resulted in the Congressional sponsorship for the program.  Putting a man on the moon would demonstrate national capability in a way that orbiting satellites (especially classified ones) could not. 

Nonetheless, it was an incredible accomplishment; so many of the necessary technologies did not exist and had to be invented and developed in real time.  I gently put the Apollo program forward as a counter example to those who claim that the US government is incapable of doing anything competently. 

The KSC Visitor Complex itself is essentially Disneyland.  I do not mean that pejoratively; people like Disneyland, and the alternative is a presentation of specific impulses, thrust to weight ratios, navigation algorithms, computer designs from the 1960’s, and the like.  Honestly, only a handful of historians of science are interested in that, and they can view all of it elsewhere.  Still, it was kind of weird to walk past the “G-Force Grill” on my way to the “Orbit Café” and the “Space Shop.” I had fun. 

Part of the Kennedy Space Center Visitor Complex. Disneyland!

 Having spent more hours at KSC than I intended, I decided to take the dreaded I-95 south for 120 miles or so, to the north end of the gigantic Miami Megalopolis.  Cruising at 75 mph in the right hand lane is certainly productive, but you don’t get to see very much.  I didn’t see any other motorcycles.  

Day 5 (19 May). Okefenokee boat tour; ride to Florida

From: Fargo, GA

To: Palatka, FL

Miles today: 197

Total miles: 1261

After riding through some of Georgia’s interior yesterday, I ended up in the town of Fargo (GA), just outside the entrance to the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge. This morning I drove the 20-mile road into the Stephen C. Foster State Park, and took a 1.5 hour boat tour of this largest “black water” swamp in North America.  (In small sample sizes the water is a sickly brown in color, but this is due to natural tannins from decaying vegetation.  These tannins actually kill bacteria, so you can drink the water, although I did not do so.)

Jeremy, our guide, holding some "black water" from Okefenokee.

I mostly wanted to see the Cypress forests (which I did), but there was no getting away from the alligators; they were everywhere.  Interestingly, we did not have to wear life vests (perhaps because the water was only a few feet deep), and no one told us to keep our hands out of the water.  In fact, the only warnings at all about alligators were not to feed them!

"Hi, got any snacks, or small children?"

From Wikipedia:

Although folklore and many references state that the word, okefenokee, is a Native American word, meaning,"land of trembling earth," it is actually the anglicization of the Itsate Creek Indian words, oka fenoke, which mean "water- shaking."

None of this made much sense to me (Earthquakes? Whirlpools?), but our tour guide, Jeremy, cleared it up for us.  When you walk on the spongy land, it is springy – sort of like walking on Jell-O.  Thus a better translation of okefenokee might be “jiggling earth” or something to that effect.  

Cypress trees grow very slowly, but live a very long time.  From about 1910 to 1930, the Okefenokee was heavily logged; as a result all of the Cypress trees today reasonably large but not gigantic, virtually all of them being less than 100 years old.  

As is the case with the Great Dismal Swamp of Virginia, the Okefenokee burns.  From April 2011 to April 2012, in extreme drought conditions, about 80% of the park burned.  This, apparently, is the nature of peat bogs. Much of the area that was spared was the part I was able to see today.  

The Okefenokee is only a few thousand years old, but if it were to continue in its present form for a few million more the result would be that the peat would become coal.  In fact, all the areas where coal is found today – Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Wyoming – all looked like the Okefenokee.  Today, even before logging and swamp draining by humans, the fraction of the world’s land area that is blackwater swamp is quite small today.  In the Carboniferous period, 360 – 300 million year ago, vast areas were covered by these shallow swamps, and even larger areas were covered by shallow inland oceans, of which there are few analogies today.  Earth was a very different place back then.

The Carboniferous, uh, I mean the Okefenokee

 After departing the Okefenokee, I headed east and south on a number of small roads through southern Georgia and northern Florida.  It was hot, over 90 degrees, but I had the roads all to myself with the exception of the occasional logging truck. I am far enough south now, and it is late enough in May, that I am now seeing rain showers every afternoon.  This reminds me of my days in Houston. 

Day 3 (17 May). South Carolina and Savannah, GA

From: Myrtle Beach, SC

To: Savannah, GA

Miles today: 224

Total miles: 855

Myrtle Beach, Charleston, and Savannah Georgia are all connected via US 17, and most of my ride today was either on this route or roughly parallel routes. For the first 30 miles out of Myrtle Beach I was accompanied by hundreds of Harley riders, few of whom wore helmets and all of whom wore tank tops.  (Never mind crashing; don’t these people get sunburned?)  By the time I got to Charleston, they were all gone, replaced with the occasional Honda Goldwing riders with full body armor (like me). 

At Georgetown I turned off of congested US 17 for Alt 17, US 531, and then SC 41 south through the Francis Marion National Forest. This was a beautiful and almost empty two-lane road that took me through forests of mostly pine.  (Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox, was played by Mel Gibson in the movie The Patriot.)  All the trees were thin and of about the same diameter, indicating new growth.  A check of Wikipedia told me the forest was essentially wiped out by Hurricane Hugo in 1989, along with much of Charleston. 

The Francis Marion National Forest, from SC 41.  Lovely, but all new since Hugo.

I passed through Charleston itself fairly quickly, not because it is not a wonderful place but because I had been there before but had not been to Savannah and wanted to spend some daylight hours there. US 17 emptied out, but it was still divided 4-lane (great for driving, but not as scenic), winding south on SC 170 among others.  Everything was divided 4-lane!  South Carolina has apparently invested quite heavily in their roads.

Savannah was worth it.  I admit one of the reasons I wanted to stop there was that I like the sound of the name; “Savannah” says Antebellum South to me even more than Charleston or Montgomery.  This was the original Georgia colony, laid out by James Oglethorpe himself, and is on a 30-40 foot bluff overlooking the river of the same name.  The street that runs along the edge of the bluff is called Bay Street, and there are several places where colonial-age stone steps lead down to River Street along the waterfront itself.  River street is paved with stones, and has had its warehouses converted into restaurants and shops, much like Alexandria, Virginia.  However, Savannah is still a working port city, and every hour or so gigantic cargo ships move almost silently down the river, right across from “main street.”  You don’t see that in Alexandria.

River Street in Savannah, looking south.  Could be Old Town Alexandria, VA.

River Street in Savannah, same spot, but looking north. NOT Alexandria!

Day 2 (16 May). Outer Banks and Ferry Rides.

From: Elizabeth City, NC

To: Myrtle Beach, SC

Miles today: 342

Total miles: 631

I rose early because I was a bit behind and had some scheduled ferry boats to catch; I was on the road by 7:30.  I took US 158 east to the barrier islands and Kitty Hawk.  I stopped by the Wright Brother’s memorial, but it wasn’t open that early in the morning.

First in Flight!

After Nags Head I headed south down the two lane road that connects to Hatteras Island.  Much is wildlife preserve now, but there are some towns.  On the surface they seemed very similar to those beach towns in Maryland and Delaware, but it seemed like there was an additional level of money here.  Everyone I talked to was either a tourist (like me), there from somewhere else, or working there and from the mainland.  I did stop in one of the camping beaches to look around.  Despite the morning chill, every camping space was occupied. 

I saw the famous lighthouse at Cape Hatteras from a fair distance away.  It turns out you can climb it, for a small fee.  I am pleased to say I managed the 250+ steps, although I was bringing up the rear.  The views were spectacular; the Park Rangers were talking about how unusually clear and calm it was today.

Cape Hatteras (the actual point) as seen from the lighthouse.

From there I rode to the ferry terminal, and successfully made the boat.  The trip took an hour to go from Hatteras to Ocracoke Island, in large part because the ferry had to take an indirect route across Pamlico Sound (the second biggest estuary in the US, after the Chesapeake Bay) to avoid shoals.  A 13-mile ride to the other end of the island took me to the second ferry, this one to Cedar Island (actually on the mainland).  This one took about 2.5 hours.  It was bigger and actually had places to sit.   

The outer banks (other than Nags Head) are hard to get to.  The ferry rides are long and fairly Spartan, and the drive is even longer.  I think this is one of the main differences between these places and those on other barrier islands on the east coast, from the Jersey Shore to Florida.  Isolation. 

On the other end, I drove 20 miles before seeing so much as a gas station¸ until I picked up US 70 near its eastern terminus.  Then, suddenly, some surprisingly big cities.  Moorhead City is a working port and seems to have some industry as well; I must have driven 30 miles of non-stop strip malls, hotels, and traffic lights.  I cut off on NC 24 along the southeastern edge of Croatan National Forest, expecting a more rural route, but it was five lanes (center turn lane) all the way to Jacksonville, NC.  This is the nearest big town to the enormous Camp Lejeune Army base, so lots of tattoo parlors and the like.  Finally I got onto US 17 and headed for Wilmington, where I was planning on spending the night.  US 17 here is essentially Interstate, albeit with somewhat less traffic and occasional stop lights.   

Wilmington, a decent sized city with 50 or so hotels, was completely booked!  (This was not the first time I have seen an entire city “sold out,” but it always surprises me.  Something about a kid’s soccer tournament?  Anyway, I had no choice but to push on to Myrtle Beach, SC, in the dark, some 70 miles away. 

South Carolina is in the Deep South (as opposed to Virginia and North Carolina, which are simply in The South), and Myrtle Beach is in South Carolina.  Thus I was a bit surprised to find the town to be very bright and very loud; billboards for strip clubs, and Harleys roaring all night down the main drag.  Most of the license plates were local; I guess even South Carolinians need a Las Vegas equivalent.  The one concession that I observed to the locality was that Fox News was on the TV in the hotel’s breakfast bar.