Month: February 2026

2/17/26

Well, after that very challenging day, I got another few interesting days, filled with both beauty and more challenges.

I was pretty excited when I finally arrived at the Florida Caverns State Park. I had been surprised to learn that there were caverns in Florida, and I was looking forward to seeing them. Twice in my life, I had loved visiting Luray Caverns, in Virginia, and I just love the beauty of caverns in general.

However, I am embarrassed to admit that some of my fears started creeping in, as I considered entering. There were signs and warnings indicating that some passages were short (4 feet/1.2 m) and would require ducking, and some passages were as narrow as 2 feet/.61 m. I thought about some of the claustrophobic dreams I have had over the years, and worried whether I would feel OK during the hour-long cavern tour. I then derided myself for being “ridiculous” and a “scaredy cat,” and decided to go in… but then I got nervous again, and hesitated… but then I finally found my courage: I love caverns! I had biked a long, hard way to get there! And it was unlikely I’d ever be in this area again!

And then, of course, I was very glad I had talked myself into it. Ducking through those tight passages was no big deal at all, once I got inside.

It was a very informative group tour, where the guide talked a lot about this FDR-era CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) project, and what the work would have been like for those workers who made the cavern “tourable” by the public. These would have been young men at the time, making very good money for those days, but working in dark and dangerous conditions.

The guide also pointed out two bats, sleeping in two different areas. Very cute. (I didn’t get photos, though, sorry.)

After the tour, I made my way back to the park entrance, and waited for my Host a Sister host, Bonnie, to pick me up. I was so grateful to Bonnie! She had flown in from a work trip to Washington, DC late the previous night, yet she was willing to drive 27 miles each way (43.5 km) to pick me up and take me to stay in her home in Graceville, near the Alabama border to the north, for the night. Without her help, it would have been very difficult for me to have had any of my panhandle adventures.

The next morning, she continued to be an amazingly generous host by then driving me about another 40 miles (65 km) south, to a gas station near the intersection of Hwy 20 & Hwy 77. This got me within a reasonable cycling range of my Servas hosts in Panama City Beach.

Google Maps had told me it would be a 30-mile ride (48 km.) However, its directions were ridiculous—which I’m finding is very common here in Florida—soon trying to route me onto a road in even worse condition than the ones from the other day. I stayed on Hwy 77, deciding to take Google’s next suggested turn. That turn was even worse, though: a non-road, barely a path through a field, and completely blocked off to me by a gate. (I really need to start using Ride With GPS for my routing.)

I decided to just default to staying on Hwy 77 until the next major westbound road. This added five miles/8 km to my day, which at my slow pace, was close to an hour. But the road surfaces were pretty good, and bike lanes not too horrendous, so it was worth it.

I passed some nice scenery as I approached Panama City Beach.

One such place was Gayles Trails, a nice hiking area with a boardwalk and some restrooms. I took a nice stroll and had a brief rest there, before continuing on.

At last, I reached my Servas hosts, Barbara and Steve, in their beautiful 6th-floor condominium overlooking both a lake and the bay. I arrived just as the sun was descending, which was amazing to see from the balcony.

Barbara and Steve had invited some neighbor friends over for dinner—two women from Colombia—and we all enjoyd good food and conversation, before watching the sun disappear over the horizon.

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2/11/26

Well, I had thought I was going to write about Tallahassee! After my long (4 hr and 20 min) Greyhound ride from Spring Hill, I did spend a rich two nights and one full day there, staying with my Servas hosts Tim and Regine. (Who had been specifically recommended to me, I should add, by my amazing Fresno Servas host from back in May, Carole.) I also met up with two friends of Tim and Regine’s, Tom and Ka—also Servas hosts—and also attended a dinner party hosted by another friend of theirs, where I met many interesting folks: musicians, activists, and the like.

But I neglected to take any photos! (Except for these two beautiful collages that Ka created; she sent me photos of them to support me in my journey. I love them!)

The good news is, I plan to pass back through Tallahassee in a few weeks, and I’m looking forward to spending time with several of these folks—and riding a new bike trail—plus meeting a few more. Stay tuned.

After my second night in Tallahassee, Tim dropped me off at the bus depot downtown, where I caught a bus that drove me for about an hour into Quincy, the small town where my father’s mother was born and raised. I did not have any time to spend there, unfortunately, but I hope to find some time to do that on my way back.

Instead, I set off on my bike toward the tiny town of Sneads, where I was to stay in a hotel for the night, followed by a half day of riding to the Florida State Caverns (pics to come in the next post) where I was to be met and picked up by my next host, Bonnie. But I won’t get ahead of myself.

Riding out of Quincy, through the tiny neighboring town of Gretna, I tried to imagine what it would have been like for my grandmother as a child. The area is still rather rural, with a lot of poverty.

I stopped to look at the old Baptist church in Gretna, wondering if my grandmother—raised as a Baptist—might have attended services or special events there at some point.

Across the street was the old school. I didn’t get a good pic of the school itself, but I wondered if, again, perhaps she and her family had attended plays or other events in that building at some point.

I pressed on.

Shortly before arriving in Sneads, I stopped for a few provisions in the small town of Chattahoochee. I was surprised and delighted to find a very new-looking small plaza there, complete with bike parking, benches, tables, outlets for electronic devices, and even restrooms.

Sadly, after talking to a local—from a nearby community, I gathered— who was using his laptop at the table, I learned that the restrooms were actually closed due to recent vandalism. We shared a very small-world moment, though, when I learned that this man—a hippie-ish looking fellow in his late 50s, I estimated—had previously worked the Oregon Country Fair one year, taking Amtrak out and back to do so!

I got back on the road, passing a local prison shortly before arriving at the very welcome Lake Seminole Inn.

This hotel was in the middle of nowhere. Without it, I don’t know how I could have made this journey. I was deeply grateful, and received a warm welcome from the man at the desk.

The next day of riding was a bit more difficult than I had anticipated.

Not long after I left the hotel, the bucolic riding environment abruptly turned into a straight-up dirt road.

Wow.

Several miles of this. I did my best to count my blessings: 1) the surface was pretty hard-packed and smooth. (Could have been a lot worse!) 2) It was not currently raining, and hadn’t rained recently enough for it to be muddy. 3) But it also wasn’t dry enough for it to be dusty, billowing clouds into my lungs as I pedaled. 4) There was almost no auto traffic.

Still, that is not my preferred riding surface. I was so relieved to see the pavement reappear!

But that relief was short-lived, as the asphalt soon gave way to sandy dirt again.

This back-and-forth happened several times, over a number of miles.

At one point on that long brown stretch, I saw in the distance what looked like a human figure standing next to a bicycle.

That couldn’t be, though, right?

Several minutes went by, and the shape grew slightly larger as I approached. At some point, I was able to see that yes, it actually was a man walking his bike.

Wow.

He was walking in my direction. I hoped he wasn’t having mechanical trouble—what a terrible place for that.

As we finally passed each other, I saw that he was a young man, probably in his early 20s. I smiled and said hello. He glanced in my direction—from ten feet away or so—but barely acknowledged me, and said nothing.

I found this very odd, but not unprecedented that day. There had been at least three locals I had seen, in their yards or whatnot, to whom I had smiled and said good morning, and been met with no response. I was a bit puzzled, thinking “Aren’t Southerners supposed to be friendly?”

It wasn’t a racial issue, of Black locals distrusting a white outsider; although that area has a high Black population (someone had told me that Quincy is currently 90% Black) these particular folks were all white. But maybe they had indeed clocked me as an outsider (because who rides a rig like that out there?) and therefore were suspicious or standoffish. I did find it odd, though, especially from that poor guy who had clearly been walking his bike for miles.

About an hour later, though, one guy did yell out to me from his yard, “Beautiful day to be ridin’!” I smiled and agreed.

Finally, the earth gave way to pavement for the last time, and I enjoyed the last few miles of the ride to the caverns. I even got to pass some more of that magical Florida water, right alongside the road.

Next up: the Florida State Caverns!

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2/9/26

Hello from Panama City Beach! I’m slowly catching up on blogging my travels. My bike-traveling pace these past few weeks reminds me of my year of travels, four years ago, when I was blogging nearly every day.

When I left off in my last post, I was enjoying my last few days of time in St. Petersburg. Then, I was ready to head north to Spring Hill, Florida, to catch the Greyhound to Tallahassee. I broke up the riding into two days: Dunedin to Odessa, then Odessa to Spring Hill.

Since I had already biked from the start of Pinellas Trail to Dunedin, I began my journey there. My new friend Katherine was kind enough to ferry me and my rig from her dog sit in St. Pete up to Josiah Cephus Weaver Park, the end point of my ride a few days prior.

We took a final selfie, then she even captured a shot of me heading off to eat my snack on a bench before embarking. It was a beautiful park.

Once I got on the trail, the scenery was lovely. The weather was sunny and a bit chilly, but not too bad.

At one point, I crossed possibly the longest, two-direction bike bridge I’ve ever encountered. (Come to think of it now, one in Hayward, California might rival it.)

Shortly afterward, I rode through a beautiful painted underpass.

That evening, I arrived at the home of my wonderfully warm and gracious Warmshowers hosts, Don and Susan, in Odessa. Their daughter was visiting, too, and we all had a warm and filling homemade meal of vegan chili, courtesy of Susan. They all shared stories with me about their various impressive bicycle expeditions around the US.

The next morning, they saw me off (with leftover vegan chocolate cupcakes from the dinner!) and I was back on the trail.

The weather was even nicer that day—really just about perfect—and the scenery was lovely and peaceful. I took several meditative rests on the benches along the trail.

Toward the end of the day, I found a surprise on the side of the trail: the Spirit Tree. This seemed to be a place for people to honor loved ones who had passed away, on the branches and benches around the tree, with wind chimes throughout. It was a unique experience to stand underneath it.

Finally, I reached my resting place for the night—the fanciest-looking Motel 6 I have yet encountered!

It was a good place to rest before bicycling partway back along the trail the next morning to meet the Greyhound.

Next up: Tallahassee!

—

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2/7/26

Hello from the small town of Graceland, Florida! I’m staying here for one night with a very generous Host a Sister host, Bonnie, who is helping me with rides to stretch out the distance I can go in the panhandle. More in a future post.

But now I want to share the remainder of my St. Petersburg time, and especially the beautiful sights of the Sunken Gardens. This garden is more than 100 years old, and has been owned and operated by the City of St. Petersburg since 1999. You may recall that I first visited these gardens in my year of travels, in 2022.

I hadn’t planned to go again this year, due to budgetary constraints. But I met up for coffee one day with my former Warmshowers host Kathleen, and she happened to have a free ticket she could share with me! I was so grateful and happy to be able to visit this beautiful place again.

Much of my nearly a week in St. Pete this time was sadly a bit chilly, windy, and/or rainy, so I didn’t spend nearly as much outdoor time as I would have liked. But even in the chill, I did get out a bit to enjoy the neighborhood scenery when I could.

One evening, my new friend Katherine invited me over to the penthouse condo where she was dog sitting to watch the sun set from the balcony. We talked more about the nomadic pet-sitting life, and watched a beautiful sunset over Tropicana Field’s iconic domed stadium.

Next up: my bike journey to Spring Hill.

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2/4/26

Hello from Tallahassee!

In my last post, I left off as I arrived back in Orlando after roughly a week of bike touring the eastern part of the Florida Coast to Coast Trail.

I spent that first night in the hotel on the edge of Winter Park, and then the next day, rode to the home of my new Warmshowers hosts, Danny and Sarah, in a lovely classic neighborhood in the northern part of Orlando. They were cool hosts, of course interested in bicycling, but also very vegan-adjacent and eco-friendly in their approach to life. (Sarah had recently founded a local nonprofit focused on reducing solid waste, hosting clothing swaps and similar events.)

I used their home as a base for two nights, and explored the nearby neighborhood parks and bikeways in the intervening day.

I decided to give myself a “vegan splurge day” (rare within my extremely low-budget travel style) and treated myself to a decadent “fried chicken” sandwich at an acclaimed local vegan restaurant, Winter Park Biscuit Company.

Then I wanted to continue the splurge, so I pedaled over to the local vegan bakery, Valhalla Bakery. (To my delight, I later learned they have a St. Petersburg location too!) I enjoyed a rich chocolate Biscoff cupcake.

The next morning, I packed up and headed out to the Winter Park Amtrak station for my train-and-bus ride to St. Petersburg. The house was roughly equidistant to both the Winter Park and Orlando stations, so having arrived in Orlando twice already, I thought I would try something new.

The weather was sunny and 71F/22C as I left the house, but the forecast had led me to fear rain, even on this short 20-minute ride. Just as I was starting to sweat from the sun, and feeling foolish for having worn rain pants and my rain jacket, those fears were realized when the skies suddenly opened up.

I took shelter under a school awning for about ten minutes, but the rain continued pouring—for what my weather app seemed to suggest would be just another few minutes—when the timing started seeming urgent for me to get to the station. (I wanted to be careful to arrive at least 45 minutes before departure, since I would be checking my trailer. Some stations are very strict about these cutoff times, and I could not afford to miss being able to check it onto this Viewliner train; there would be no room in the coach cars to store it.) Sure enough, it only rained for a few more minutes, but that was long enough to get both me and my rig thoroughly drenched.

At the station, as I tried the door and found it locked, the attendant regarded me a bit like a drowned rat, and informed me somewhat tersely that the station wouldn’t open for another 15 minutes. (Apparently these folks were less concerned with the 45-minute window at this station—their opening time wouldn’t even allow for it. Guess I could have waited for the rain to stop.)

Dejected and dripping, I did manage to strike up a very friendly conversation with a woman in her 80s (she volunteered her age, as well as the fact that she was beginning to experience some symptoms of dementia, though she was taking the train alone—for her first time ever—to Tampa that day.) She was a retired schoolteacher, and was very taken with my way of travel. It cheered me up to talk with her.

Once I did make it inside, I ran into more hassles with the two staffers. The woman who had closed the door on me outside mostly avoided interacting with me at all—just interjecting disapprovingly a few times—while her male counterpart helped me to get the trailer checked. He seemed pretty accommodating, but he did later walk out to find me to let me know that technically the dimensions of the trailer were large enough that he could charge me for oversized luggage.

“I won’t this time, since you said other Amtrak staff have let you do it… but just so you know, technically you should pay the extra $20 [$30?] for oversized luggage in the future.”

Argh.

It’s always something.

I thanked him politely, but made a mental note never to depart from the Winter Park station again. I’m very glad to know that Orlando is so close by, since I will probably go through that area at least once more this winter.

The train ride to Tampa was pleasant, and I was seated next to a woman who had also founded a nonprofit—this time a global one, focused on an aging world population, and based on teaching people around the world to live more multi-generationally.

At the Tampa station, I transferred to an Amtrak bus to St. Petersburg. I had considered bicycling across the Gandy Bridge—as I had done four years ago—but decided against it, opting for the ease of a bus. And I’m glad I did, because it was a chilly and windy day in the Tampa Bay. I watched the choppy water as we drove under the clouded skies, and was relieved not to be out riding in the wind for those miles.

And sure enough, arriving in St. Petersburg, my weather app showed a “wind advisory,” with some pretty nasty gusting possible. I was glad I only needed to bicycle a few miles to my Warmshowers host’s house.

Unfortunately, the furnace at the house wasn’t working very well, and it got to be a very cold night, dipping down near freezing. I had thought I might be staying in that house for close to a week, since that host had graciously offered “as long as you need!” but fortunately, I found another host who offered a mother-in-law apartment above his garage for nearly a week, so I moved over there the next day.

While in St. Pete, I also got to meet someone really cool!

I had seen one Katherine Price in a few of my Facebook nomad, pet sitting, and Host a Sister groups. She has been living as a traveling pet sitter (mostly dogs, and traveling in her car) around the US for the past six years—about twice as long as I’ve been at it. We finally found ourselves in the same place at the same time, so we met up! It was so much fun to swap stories about our lives these past few years, and share various tips we had each learned. We planned to meet up again, and I’ll write more about that in the next post.

The following day, the weather was still a bit blustery and, although sunny, not terribly warm (high of 53F/12C) but I set out to cycle my first leg of the Pinellas Trail, about 30 miles/48 km from the trailhead in downtown St. Pete to Dunedin, up the coast a bit. The first part of the trail wasn’t all that scenic, and with the subpar weather, it was a bit of a letdown after that perfect last day on the eastern part of the trail.

But the second half was a little prettier, and I was glad to have done it.

I took a total of three buses back to the apartment, which took me more than two hours! But I felt accomplished at the end of that day.

I’ll write more about my time in St. Pete—and my travels from there to Odessa, then Spring Hill, and now Tallahassee—in upcoming posts.

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