Pretty much just photos this time! The ride from Washington, DC to Portland took about three days, and I did it almost all in one shot (which is always fun for me!)
I didn’t get any pics between DC and Chicago—much of which was overnight anyway—but I had a several-hour layover in Chicago, so I enjoyed some relaxing views of the bean and the river, and stopped for lunch at a vegan Mexican place where I enjoyed a torta.
Then I boarded the train to Portland, which was to take almost exactly 48 hours.
Scenery was mostly beautiful sunny and cloudy wide expanses, but as we got closer to Glacier National Park in Montana, the temps dipped significantly, and we were shocked and delighted to see snow!
I had taken this westbound train twice before, once in the spring and once in late August, and by the time we reached Glacier on those trips, it was after dark! I was so tickled to see this wintry weather (from the cozy comfort of the train!) before we lost all the light.
When we woke up on the second morning, the dining car and half the passenger cars had been disconnected and sent on their way to Seattle, while we Portland-bound folk were lucky enough to retain the sightseer lounge car. We spent hours hugging the bank of the beautiful Columbia River, watching the gorge unfold lazily.
And then… we were in Portland!
After a wonderful almost eight months away, it felt good to be back. I’ll be in the NW, mostly in the Portland area, for the summer. (I’m dreaming up my next fall-winter-spring journey as we speak, getting ready to cover more new-to-me track while escaping the NW weather!)
I’ll be sharing photos of my nature sojourns in the NW over the summer. I hope you’re all enjoying the nature and weather wherever you are!
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Before heading back to Portland by train (pics of that journey coming next!) I spent about a week and a half at the house where I grew up in semi-rural northern Virginia. As you may recall, I had spent a similar time there this past November.
This time I was extra excited, because in addition to spending time with my parents, I had been looking forward all winter to a family reunion at the homestead this spring. Although my extended family is small, we had never had such a reunion… and this time, there was to be a new baby attending from New York! This is the first (and almost certainly will be the only) baby in this “next generation,” since my sister and I have never had kids. But our cousin recently did.
However, although we did have a very brief but enjoyable lunch get-together at the homestead one day, unfortunately the reunion plans fell victim to several illnesses.
First was my own: as I alluded in the last post, I seemed to have picked up a nasty 24-hour GI bug during my time in Richmond. It was quite unpleasant for me for that day and night, but thankfully it seemed to get out of my system quickly. However, within a few days it had made its way into my father’s system too, and took him out for several days. It appears he may have shared it with my visiting uncle, as well. (Word to the wise—GI bugs can remain contagious for up to three or four days once symptoms resolve; take all the precautions you can!)
Meanwhile, the new baby in New York had come down with a cold, and then spread it to both his parents… so that branch of the family didn’t make the trip, and none of us got to meet the baby! (Fortunately, my parents had already met him a few months ago, but I, my sister and her partner visiting from Seattle, and my aunt and uncle visiting from North Carolina will have to wait for a future opportunity.)
So, it was kind of a weird and not-entirely-pleasant time at the homestead.
The good news was that the weather was mostly lovely, and I spent a lot of time outside just resting—in the gazebo, by the pergola, and in the hammock—and that was very refreshing and rejuvenating. And since I grew up from a newborn in that house, I always enjoy “coming home” to it.
(And enjoying my mother’s home cooking! She always makes wonderful vegan meals when I visit.)
On our last day, an Uber driver came out “into the wilds” to pick up my sister and her partner and me, and drove us to the Ashburn transit center. Those two boarded a metro train for DC to continue their train travels to points north, while I bicycled along the W & OD bike trail to visit my friend Michelle in Reston.
It was good to have another chance to connect with her and her two adorable doggies for a night.
The next day, I biked to the DC Metro (it feels like a cool sci-fi cavern in there in the underground parts) to return to Amtrak’s grand Union Station.
There, I would board a train to Chicago (17-hour overnight ride) and then transfer the same day to a 48-hour train back to Portland.
Scenic pics to come!
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I disembarked the train from Richmond into Washington, DC’s beautiful Union Station, and was met directly outside by half of my Warmshowers hosting pair for the next two nights, Jessica. On the bike ride back to her home in Bethesda, Maryland, she led me on a whirlwind tour of some of DC’s iconic spots (though I didn’t really take pics of them, sorry! I had already seen the monuments many times in my childhood). I did get a few pics of some breathtaking wisteria! That’s Jessica on the left in the first pic, talking to another admirer we encountered.
We started out on the popular Rock Creek Trail, then transferred to the one I had been really looking forward to—the Capital Crescent Trail—which did not disappoint with its beauty, especially in the springtime golden hour light.
From that trail I could even catch some glimpses of the iconic C & O Canal Towpath, which runs all the way from DC to Cumberland, Maryland, and then transfers to the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) trail, which can take you all the way to Pittsburgh.
Many cyclists like to spend about a week biking from Pittsburgh to DC or vice versa on this trail combo. (In 2022, I biked 15 miles/24 km out and back on the GAP trail from Pittsburgh during my year of travels, and was shocked to encounter my Houston Warmshowers host couple out cycling there as well! I had stayed with them three months earlier.)
The next day, Jessica was leading a 35-mile bike ride, but I was feeling tired and ready for a rest, so I spent the day relaxing and doing some Cambly English tutoring in the beautiful home she shares with her husband Henry.
The following day, I set out to meet my parents at our family homestead in Waterford, Virginia, in western Loudoun County. As you may recall, I visited the homestead (which we affectionately refer to as Toad Hall, after the dilapidated mansion in The Wind in the Willows) back in November.
This time, I biked back down the Capital Crescent Trail from Bethesda, and found the trail much more crowded than it had been during the evening two days before. There were lots of folks out walking, and a few cyclists.
I stopped to enjoy some of the DC sights again, such as the (Francis Scott) Key Bridge and the Watergate Hotel, on my way to the Foggy Bottom DC Metro stop.
From there, I caught a train to Herndon, Virginia, then disembarked and began to cycle on the W & OD Bike Trail (which I had ridden in full back in 2019, fulfilling a decades-long dream!)
This time I only biked about ten miles/16 km to Leesburg, where my parents met me and loaded my rig into their car.
I wasn’t feeling great, though, which was a sign of some health unpleasantness to come. I tried to chalk it up to the hot sunny day and fatigue after an entire winter of traveling, but by the time I got to the house, I felt exhausted and had little appetite for dinner.
But before all this—and before my parents arrived at our agreed-upon spot in Leesburg—I had the chance to walk around a bit at the “downtown” streets I remembered so well from my childhood. Leesburg has sprawled dramatically since my childhood days in the ‘70s and ‘80s, but the downtown area—with the Tally Ho theater, where I think I recall watching the original Star Wars in 1978, still going strong—looks much as I remember it, including the old county courthouse.
Then I sat on a bench in Raflo Park waiting for them to arrive. That park is new since I moved away in 1990. I had met the (now late) Frank Raflo once, at the Loudoun County Democratic headquarters during my high school years, when I volunteered for my first political campaign, to help elect Virginia’s first-ever Black governor, Douglas Wilder.
And in Raflo Park, right in front of my bench, was a piece of art containing a quote that reminded me of my former partner, now close friend, Johnny: “No Mud, No Lotus.” That is the name of a book by Thich Nhat Hanh, the (also now late) Vietnamese Buddhist monk and peace activist. Johnny had once requested—perhaps ten years ago—that he and I read the book together, he from his prison cell and I from the outside. I enthusiastically agreed at the time, but since both of us are very bad at actually reading books, neither of us ended up actually ordering it… so, unfortunately, that has not yet transpired. But it felt like a sweet little inspirational full-circle moment to see that sign in the park.
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After my lovely visit with my aunt and uncle and their dogs in North Carolina, I boarded the train in Cary bound for Richmond, Virginia.
I was looking forward to some bike and train explorations, and I got them! The train part, especially, had taken me literally months of research and turning over possibilities in my head. It finally came together!
First, I arrived at the home of my first wonderful Richmond Warmshowers hosts, Pat and Steve. They live, with their two dogs, within three miles of the Staples Mill Amtrak station. (Richmond is one of very few cities with two Amtrak stations. One is conveniently located downtown, but the main one that serves all the stations I needed was Staples Mill, pretty far northwest of town, so it was great to find hosts nearby.) Pat and Steve were incredibly warm and welcoming, and had a lovely guest suite in the basement, so it was a perfect place to stay. I chatted with the two of them while snuggling on the couch with their dog Lefty, and then I set out on my bike to explore a nearby park.
The difference in the “neighborhood look” from Florida was striking. A whole different kind of architectural and spring-nature beauty here.
The next day, I set out on my quest to cross two more Amtrak line segments off my map: Richmond to Newport News, and Richmond to Norfolk. This had been a difficult proposition because both lines only run once per day, and both lines—although they run all the way to New York—use trainsets without baggage cars, since they are considered commuter lines. This meant I could not take my rig on them to spend a night or two or three in either of those cities, unfortunately; I would have to do it as a day trip, or else stay in a hotel for a night with no change of clothes and minimal toiletries. (Or stay with a Servas family at a nearby nudist resort in Ivor, Virginia, which I also considered!) The timing of the lines was such that it was an iffy proposition as to whether I could do it all in one day. That was another reason I appreciated staying with Pat and Steve: they were very flexible as to my dates to stay with them. If I were to miss the connection in Norfolk, I could stay in a hotel there that night, and then return to them the following night.
So I departed their house that morning and biked to the Staples Mill station. I boarded the train to Newport News, and the two-hour ride passed uneventfully.
From the station there, I boarded an Amtrak connector bus to Norfolk. That 40-minute bus ride across the James River/Burwell Bay/Atlantic Ocean (not sure where the line is drawn) was a bit stressful for me: we moved along at what felt like a reasonable pace, but then slowed to a crawl, and then a stop, before we reached the water. Apparently this is a normal traffic pattern, but I kept worrying that I would miss my connection in Norfolk. (Hardly anyone would need or want to make the loop I was making, so Amtrak would have no reason to make any effort to sync the two lines, or delay the departure to wait for the bus’s arrival, like they do on some lines that are commonly used in conjunction with each other.)
I was further surprised when, after we started moving again, we descended into a tunnel to cross the bay! Then about halfway across, we emerged from the tunnel onto a bridge. (My father later explained to me the military reason for this structure, but in the moment it just seemed surreal.)
We made it to the Norfolk station with minutes to spare, and I raced my bike the few blocks from the bus drop-off to the train, boarding just in time to make the connection. I was sad not to have seen any of Newport News nor Norfolk, but thoroughly pleased to be able to mark these lines off my goal of riding every mile of track in Amtrak’s network!
The ride back to Richmond was pleasant and uneventful.
The following afternoon, I said goodbye to Pat and Steve and the doggies, and set out from their northwestern location to the home of my next Warmshowers hosts, out on the eastern edge of town. The ride between them was beautiful.
Lauren, one of my new hosts, met me partway at a lovely park, and we took a goldenhour stroll.
She led me across a really cool bike and pedestrian bridge, which sadly the photo doesn’t do full justice. It was very swoopy and cool!
When we arrived at their house, they were having a family celebration for her husband Alex’s birthday. His mother and their 6-year-old son had made a very elaborate mountain-biking-themed cake for him! I was thoroughly impressed.
The next day, I set out to ride the Virginia Capital Trail. It is a very long trail, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to do the whole thing, but I first headed back in toward town, and reached that end of the trail.
I sat in the pedestrian plaza by the water and just soaked in the relaxing sunshine.
Then I made my way back out, continuing as far as I could into the countryside. The weather was perfect for such a ride, and the season made it breathtakingly beautiful.
Possibly the coolest part of all? After at least an hour of just lounging on various sunny benches in Dorey Park, I had set out on my way back to the house when I crossed a bridge on the trail just in time to see a small lizard scurrying away(!) Although I didn’t have the opportunity to stop and really connect with this lizard like I had with the ones in Florida, I had now experienced my first-ever Virginia lizard sighting, after having lived in that state for 15 years!
Now I’ll see if I can manage to find a lizard in the wild in Oregon this summer… (I’ve heard there are alligator lizards there, but I’ve never seen one. Maybe now that I have been “primed” by all the lizard connections this winter, it will finally happen?)
Then there was one last bit of magic on my way back: I got to ride on Darbytown Road.
Locals will tell you—correctly—that this is not a good road for cycling. There are no bike lanes, and drivers take the twists and turns uncomfortably fast.
But this road—which I had never seen until that day—had a special meaning for me.
Growing up in then-rural western Loudoun County, in northern Virginia, we had a neighbor family, the McLeans, who moved in when I was in second or third grade. Laurie, the youngest of three daughters, was just a year younger than me, and we became friends.
I only briefly met her older sisters, Kathy and April. But many years later—when I was in my thirties, living in Portland—I somehow learned that April had become a singer-songwriter. I went online and found some of her songs. Her latest album at that time was called Darbytown Road, and the title track—a song to her mother—brought me to tears when I heard it. (I tried to find a link to share it with you, but that song doesn’t seem to be available unless you buy the whole album for $5.)
So, it felt like a cool full-circle moment to me to ride on this road. (I had forgotten that the McLeans had lived in Richmond before they moved to Waterford.)
I hummed the song to myself as I pedaled along.
And even one more bit of magic: my next turn, after Darbytown, was onto Oregon Street!
My time in Richmond was rich indeed.
Next up: the DC area and Bethesda, Maryland!
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This will be a short post, mostly just some pics from my fun time visiting my aunt and uncle and their two dogs near Raleigh, North Carolina.
I took the overnight train from Orlando, and arrived in the morning to the Cary station, where my uncle picked me up.
The next day, he took me to Raleigh’s Dix Park, named after Dorothea Dix, a social reformer who advocated on behalf of poor mentally ill people. It was a beautiful spring day to be out in that spacious place.
The park is host to one of Danish artist Thomas Dambo’s many installations of troll sculptures, made from recycled materials. (I had known about the Portland-area troll for a year or so before I began my travels this past fall, but I hadn’t found the time to get out to the west side of town to see it. Watch for a future post, though!)
Four of the five trolls in this park were hidden in wooden areas, which made them fun to discover.
Most of the rest of my four days with my aunt and uncle were spent quietly, catching up and talking about my travels, the dogs, my aunt’s beautiful art, and the like.
One extra cool bit of magic: I saw an anole at their house! I’ve visited my aunt and uncle a number of times over the years, including this past fall—and I did know from my aunt’s Facebook posts that sometimes they see anoles there—but I had never personally encountered one.
After all the “lizard magic” I experienced this winter in Florida, it was really cool to see this one on the front fence. I even dared to dream that I might see a lizard in Virginia, though that seemed extremely unlikely. (Both Virginia and Oregon apparently are home to a few native lizards, but in all my time in both states—the vast majority of my life—I have never seen a lizard in the wild.)
Next up: a beautiful bicycle trail in Richmond, Virginia.
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My time in Florida finally came to an end, after four months of a wide variety of experiences, places, and people. I’m so glad I spent this winter there. I may do it again sometime.
After about a week and a half with my furry friends Mr. T and Missy B in St. Petersburg, I began a convoluted trek to Orlando for my last few days in Florida.
Ordinarily, I would have taken the Amtrak connector bus from St. Pete to Tampa, then transferred to the train to Orlando.
But no. Because…
On my way from Orlando to St. Pete just prior, I had noticed that the Tampa train station was undergoing renovations, and was therefore temporarily not offering baggage service.
Oof.
What this meant was that instead, I had to take a city bus from St. Petersburg’s South Straub Park to downtown Tampa, then transfer to a Greyhound bus to Lakeland, then take the Amtrak from Lakeland to Orlando.
In Tampa, I enjoyed the beautiful bike ride along the bay, lined with mansions from the early 20th century.
I found a Cinnaholic, and enjoyed a delicious vegan cinnamon roll, then made my way over to the Greyhound stop.
Unfortunately, a now-predictable kerfuffle unfolded at that stop, where the driver sharply denied me boarding because of my bike. But this time there was an added twist: while I was arguing with him about it, a fellow passenger, for some disgusting and inscrutable reason, spat some dark liquid directly onto the folded bike (blessedly at least hitting the mud guard rather than the handlebars or chain). Incredulous, I paused my dispute with the driver to rinse it off with my hydration pack, while asking the passenger, “Did you just spit on my bike??” She gave me a mildly sheepish look and said, “Yeah… sorry.”
What??
After phone calls by both the driver and me to Greyhound, he finally let me on the bus, confiding that “this company has gone to shit since Flix took over. They always want to throw drivers under the bus now.” I empathized, disappointed but unsurprised to hear about the changes since the Flixbus acquisition of Greyhound a few years ago; I had heard, and personally experienced, similar stories already.
At Lakeland, I disembarked at the stop a few miles north of downtown, at a city bus stop on the edge of a desolate strip mall. The sky threatened rain, and I had a long wait before my train, so I decided to wait at the sheltered stop until the skies cleared. My two compatriots there were a young woman who wondered aloud why anyone would want to come to Lakeland, and an elderly homeless man spitting chaw juice into a bottle and asking me if I could help him buy a ticket for the next Greyhound. (“I have the cash, I can give it to you… I just don’t have a smartphone.”) I felt bad for him—having overheard him trying to buy a ticket from the driver who had dropped me off, who told him the only way to buy a ticket was online—but explained that if I were to buy the ticket, it would reside on my phone and not be usable by him.
The young woman struck up a conversation with him, and offered to watch his things while he went to a nearby store to buy some small item. (“Don’t let anyone touch it,” he implored her. “This is everything I have.”) She assured him she would watch over the bags.
I chatted with her a bit while waiting for the dark skies to clear, but when it became apparent that this might take another hour or two, I decided to take my chances and bike to the train station.
Fortunately I only caught a few sprinkles, and before long I had left the soulless outskirts and found myself in the cute downtown of Lakeland, the college town where I had recently learned that my uncle had attended school, back in the 1960s.
I sat on a bench next to what I presumed to be the central lake of Lakeland, just decompressing for a bit, then made my way to the other side of the lake where the picturesque Amtrak station sat. Despite several “no bikes” signs outside the station that made my stomach clench, the two staffers inside were smiling and gracious as I took apart my rig and handed it over as checked baggage.
I made it safely to Orlando, and biked back to Faith and Scott’s house, a few pleasant miles away from the station.
In the evening light, I experienced the beautiful nearby Lake Como Park. I have always enjoyed circular lakes and parks, which seem to be more common in Florida than elsewhere. There is a geometric magic to them, strengthened in this case by the nearly full moon above.
The following day, Faith took me along with her on her drive to a meeting in Winter Garden, west of Orlando, which you may recall from my first bike tour back in January. I enjoyed that cute area again, then met up with Faith after her meeting for a coffee-and-beer break at a nearby food court.
Then the next day, I met up with a fellow nomad, Carolyn, whom I had recently met in a Facebook group. She was also in Orlando just for a few days—headed to Colorado next—and we both had been wanting to visit the Harry P Leu Gardens.
We had a great chat in a beautiful setting, and wished each other well on our continued travels.
Then the best magic happened the next day, just a few hours before my afternoon boarding of my northbound train.
I went back to Lake Como Park, wanting to soak in that special place. The sun was now shining, and I even found a Little Free Library.
This reminded me of meeting the inimitable Rick Brooks, co-founder of the Little Free Libraries, four years ago in Illinois on my first year of travels. I texted Rick to check in, and we had a cool little exchange. This sparked me to reflect on all the amazing people I have met, and places I have seen, on this journey that waxes and wanes, but that I have now been on in one form or another for the past four and a half years. I started brainstorming all kinds of things about where I can go from here, how I can integrate and/or share some of the magic I have encountered with others…
I took copious notes in my phone’s Notes app.
While I was sitting there marinating in all this and buzzing with energy and ideas, I saw a woman walk by with two dogs. I smiled involuntarily at all of them, and we said a quick hello.
And then!
A few minutes later, I checked my phone and saw this message:
It was from Debbie, a Host a Sister woman I had met up with in Orlando—in a totally different neighborhood—back in January! I hadn’t recognized her in this different context.
What were the odds??
Feeling the “Florida magic” thus complete (further enhanced by browsing the books in the Little Free Library and finding a “vintage” one, from around 1980, called “The Florida Bicycle Book”) I made my way back to Faith and Scott’s house.
One last task before departing for the station: I finally replaced my hideously roadworn trailer rain cover/visibility cloak with the new one I had been toting around since I began this year’s journey last fall. I had been scared that I would somehow mess up the lettering and “ruin” this expensive and difficult-to-ship product, but all turned out well.
Then I went and boarded that train. We pulled out as the golden-hour light shone on my last views of Florida.
Up next: trolls in North Carolina!
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I’m nearing the end of sharing my Florida adventures! There will be more adventures in other states, of course, but this winter in Florida was definitely special. I’m glad I experienced it. Thanks to all of you who came along with me, here on the blog.
I’ll keep this post brief, and mostly pictorial. These places (and cats!) were so beautiful.
After my Daytona Warmshowers host Nikita dropped me off in Edgewater, I got to experience yet again the magical trail that is the East Central Regional Rail Trail. (You may recall that I first experienced this back in January. The weather was perfect that day, and again this time! I think this was my favorite of all the bike trails I rode in Florida.)
Sadly, this time I missed seeing the goats and trail kitty, but I did see a huge batch of baby gators! (No mother in sight, but she must have been nearby.)
I also saw several strolling sandhill cranes at a neighborhood trail crossing. It’s always cool to see those endangered birds just out and about, enjoying life.
After a friendly encounter with a squirrel toward the end of the path right before I reached the DeBary Sunrail station, I finished most of my day’s ride and transferred to the Sunrail, which I took all the way into Orlando.
From the colorful transit center there, I biked just a few more miles to meet my Host a Sister hosts for the night, Faith and her husband.
I had planned to stay two nights with them, but an unexpected snafu with my upcoming cat sit in St. Pete pulled me away the next morning. Fortunately, I would have a chance to stay with them again after that sit.
So I hopped onto the Amtrak to Tampa, then transferred to a city bus to take me across the bay to St. Pete. After about half an hour of cycling, I reached the home I would share with two adorable kitties for the next week and a half, Missy B and Mr. T. While there, I enjoyed the jungle-like backyard (complete with anoles, squirrels, and many birds who enjoyed the feeders) and I also made some communication attempts with Mr. B.
One of these attempts seemed encouragingly successful, when I had asked him to reach out and touch me with his paw if he was receiving and understanding my telepathic communication. A day later, he did so, not once but twice. Up until then, in the three or four days we had spent together, he had barely touched me or seemed affectionate at all.
The learning and practice continues!
After so much continual traveling, I took advantage of my ten-day stay with these cats to mostly sit still and enjoy the lovely home and yard. But on my last day, I did set out to explore the Boyd Hill Nature Preserve, which was lush and beautiful.
There I got to see my last gator of the season, luxuriating in a sunny swamp.
Next up: the last of my Florida days, in Orlando!
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Do you have your own dream or project, and would like some support or collaborative brainstorming about it? Schedule a free one-hour video or phone call with me!
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Want to support my vision financially? I am in a continual process of manifesting a “salary” for the unconventional work I do in the world. You can make a one-time or monthly contribution, or even become a fairy godfunder! (Heartfelt thanks to all my godfunders, patrons, and supporters!)
Hello from my family homestead in Waterford, Virginia! This is one of the last stops on my winter of travels, and I’ll share more in a later post. But now, I need to catch up on my ride from Palm Coast—near where I left off last time in Flagler Beach—to Daytona Beach, where I had the unique experience of sleeping on a boat in a marina!
When I left my host’s house in Palm Coast, it was quite chilly, but sunny and otherwise pleasant.
I pedaled through a nice nature reserve on my way out toward the coast, complete with the requisite Florida “boardwalk” bridges and vegetation.
Pretty soon I reached the ocean, and cycled along it for many miles. At one point I took a lunch break at a park, and warmed myself as best I could in the sun.
I also connected with a few more friendly anoles there, also warming themselves along the fencing.
Farther south, I stopped into the beautiful, lush Ormond Gardens. I first went inside to admire the art at the attached museum, although the main exhibit—of local children’s art, some of it extremely impressive—had a “no photography” sign, so I can’t share it here.
Then I went out and enjoyed the garden area, another beautiful jungle.
I especially enjoyed the turtle pond, and was delighted when the turtles seemed very willing to interact, make eye contact, etc—more than most turtles I had encountered in Florida.
Finally, I departed and finished my day’s ride, arriving at last in Daytona Beach.
My Warmshowers host, Nikita, who moved to the US from Russia some years ago, met me at the marina where he lives on his boat. We had some nice conversation, and he showed me on his map of the world how many places he had bicycled, which was very impressive. He is a much more “hardcore” cyclist than I, willing to bike in remote areas with rugged terrain and primitive camping. (Some of these trips he had done with his then-wife and two small children!)
He encouraged me to take a short spin around the marina in his kayak, which I enjoyed despite not being much of a “boat person.”
After setting me up with amenities, he left to stay at his girlfriend’s place for the night, so I had the boat to myself.
However, he was a consummate host, agreeing to drive me a significant distance the next morning so that I could reach a starting point close enough to my next destination that I could make the trip in one day, rather than having to get a hotel. He dropped me at the entry to the Central Florida Rail Trail in Edgewater, and from there I was able to cycle that magical trail (again!) to the Sunrail station in DeBary, then catch the train to my next host in Orlando.
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Hello from Richmond, Virginia! I’m slowly making my way north and west back to Portland, but I have several Florida adventures still to share.
Today’s installment: my very pleasant ride from St. Augustine south to Flagler Beach, which included a spontaneous stop at Washington Oaks Park. I love oak trees, so this sounded like my kind of place, and I was picturing some manicured live oaks with Spanish moss. I did find some of that, but also much more, including a very jungle-like trail that I strolled in for about an hour.
First things first. I departed my St. Augustine hotel on the St. Patrick’s Day weekend, and there was a large Celtic music festival in town for the weekend. I wove my rig through the crowds lining the military-and-bagpiping parade, and headed south from one of the very oldest European buildings in the USA.
From there I crossed the iconic Lions Bridge, and I happened to hit it just as the bridge was going up. It’s always a little surreal to see a bridge lift. (It always reminds me of some of my colorful nightmares!)
From there it was a pleasant ride for some miles, with some nice water views.
Then it was time for the park. I’ll just share the pics in the order that I encountered these environments. There were so many different kinds of natural spaces in that park. I wished I could have another couple of hours to fully appreciate the whole place.
Coming out of the park, I continued along scenic roads and bikeways, until I reached the home of my wonderful Warmshowers host Susan.
We shared a nice meal and some great conversation. She told me that Washington Oaks Park is one of her favorite parks, and that her late husband’s uncle had been a major supporter of the park. I love all the human connections I make in my journeys, especially when they intersect with the beautiful natural spaces I get to see.
Next up: sleeping on a boat in Daytona Beach!
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Do you have your own dream or project, and would like some support or collaborative brainstorming about it? Schedule a free one-hour video or phone call with me!
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Want to support my vision financially? I am in a continual process of manifesting a “salary” for the unconventional work I do in the world. You can make a one-time or monthly contribution, or even become a fairy godfunder! (Heartfelt thanks to all my godfunders, patrons, and supporters!)
Hello from Apex, North Carolina! I’m enjoying a nice visit with my aunt and uncle and their two doggies, but meanwhile I still need to catch up on my Florida adventure blog posting!
I’ll keep this one short too, mostly photos.
I stayed in a hotel in St. Augustine for two nights. During the intervening day, I visited the beautiful nearby Ravine Gardens. To get there, I was pleased to experience about 12 miles of the 19-mile-long Palatka-to-St. Augustine State Trail.
This trail was much less shady than most others I’ve seen here in Florida, and much more agricultural, with potato and cabbage fields aplenty. Fortunately the day was warm without getting too hot.
To get to the trail, I biked a few miles south of the downtown St. Augustine area to the Seabridge Mall, where I caught the quaint little Sunshine Bus Company bus. Similar to most of the buses I had taken from Gainesville to St. Augustine, these were short buses staffed by chatty local drivers. Once again, upon boarding both the outbound and inbound buses, the drivers told me bikes were not allowed on board, but I was able to prevail upon them by arguing that my small folded bike wasn’t “really” a bike in that form.
The outbound bus dropped me in the rural community of Hastings, where I picked up the trail and rode to Palatka.
From downtown Palatka, it was just a mile or so to the lovely Ravine Gardens. The weather was perfect, and the azaleas were at peak bloom, so I couldn’t have asked for a better day to visit.
I spent at least an hour contemplatively experiencing the forest on a shady bench along the ravine trail, and then headed back out to bike back the 12 miles to catch the bus in Hastings again.
Before I rejoined the trail, I thought it would be fun to bike to the Palatka Amtrak station. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take a train to or from that station, since it doesn’t offer checked baggage service, so I made do by snapping a pic of the exterior before continuing my bike journey.
It was a very pleasant day.
Coming up next, my bike ride south from St. Augustine to Flagler Beach!
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Do you have your own dream or project, and would like some support or collaborative brainstorming about it? Schedule a free one-hour video or phone call with me!
Want to be notified of future blog posts? Use the green “sign up” button to subscribe!
Want to support my vision financially? I am in a continual process of manifesting a “salary” for the unconventional work I do in the world. You can make a one-time or monthly contribution, or even become a fairy godfunder! (Heartfelt thanks to all my godfunders, patrons, and supporters!)
