Palm Beach Bike Tours

I’ve been telling my riding partner, Osa, how nice it is to ride the Lake Okeechobee Scenic Trail (LOST) for months, but weather and schedules have kept us from going out until this weekend. Sunday night was supposed to be a Full Moon, so I thought it would be a perfect introduction for her.

Rain made it look iffy

Rain chances were put at 40%, but some pretty heavy boomers were popping up around the lake, then moving on. We decided to risk it. We got on the road about 5:45 p.m. intending to go where my Droid Incredible radar showed the least weather. All things being equal, we were going to start so we’d have a headwind out and a tailwind for the return.

The first thing that went wrong was that my normal route was under construction. A detour took us about 10 miles out of our way. That wasn’t so bad, though, because Osa hadn’t had a chance to see much of the Glades farming area. She was disappointed when we saw only one alligator in a canal that I said, frequently, had a couple of dozen.

Nubbins Slough looked rain-free

We opted to put in at Nubbins Slough, on the northeast corner of the lake. The winds were out of the southeast at 8-12 mph, and our route was mostly headed southeast to south.

We didn’t spot any gators at the Slough, normally a hot spot, but these birds were kind enough to pose for us.

Osa fitted with a bug screen

I’m working on a review of the GBNpro Bug Screen. Bob Prusinski was kind enough to send me three to try, so I fitted one to my helmet before I left home and gave Osa one to attach to her helmet on the way out. The contraption is held onto the helmet with a strip of Velcro tape.

I’ll have a full review after I’ve had a chance to see if a couple problems we ran into were because we use helmet-mounted mirrors. After getting her picture taken, Osa took hers off. I, too, decided to hold off mounting mine until it got closer to Bug o’Clock.

Blue skies above us

As you can see, we had blue skies above us when we started off on our ride. Osa has a thing about clouds, so she stopped frequently to take photos of the ever-changing skyscape above us.

That is NOT a Clif Shot bloc

During one of those stops, I took the opportunity to reach into my pocket for a Clif Shot Bloks (Strawberry, not that it makes any difference). I like them because I can tuck them in my cheek and suck on them as I’m riding along. It gives me a steady inflow of energy and encourages me to drink more frequently.

Anyway, I bit down into the first bloc. They’re about the consistency of soft candy Gummy Worms. On the second chomp, I bit down on something hard. Something that was definitely NOT soft Gummy Worm consistency. I had a sinking suspicion that I knew what it was. Yep, I had pulled a dental crown right out.

Fortunately, I hadn’t bitten down hard and I hadn’t swallowed it. I took a tentative sip of water to wash my mouth out. WHOAAAAA! We’re not gonna do THAT again. Even sucking in hot summer air let me know that something was exposed that didn’t want to be exposed.

Remember those rain clouds off in the distance?

It looked like we were going to go in the blank space between the two rain showers. It LOOKED like that right up until the point that the sky opened up. Osa pulled on a jacket and slipped her phone and some other stuff in a Ziploc bag.

I put my Droid Incredible, Sandisk Sansa Clip MP3 player and i-Ride Pro speakers into a Ziploc bag and put them in my jersey pocket (more about that later). I put the rain covers over my Arkel small handlebar bag and Tailrider Trunk bag and debated pulling on my Campmor Rain Cape, but decided it wasn’t going to rain that long. Plus, it was hot enough I wasn’t afraid of getting chilled.

Sure enough, we rode out of the rain in a couple of miles, just in time to get some photos of the moon rise. The frame at the top is a little unsharp because it’s a still shot taken out of a video. My Canon FS100 Camcorder has a longer effective lens than my Nikon D40.

Dusk means bugs

Shortly after we got moving again, I told Osa that I was going to put on my Bug Screen because it was getting to be “that time.” She elected to wait a bit longer. I thought that was a mistake, because I was already seeing small bugs bouncing off the screen and seeing them stuck in the sweat on my arms.

She started complaining that she could feel bugs crawling around inside her helmet, so I offered a bandanna to put over her hair. We stopped to find it, and immediately became a feast for mosquitoes that covered every part of us, clothed and unclothed. Osa went into a whirling dervish swatting frenzy, then hopped on her bike vowing to pedal until she dropped, hopefully dead, if she couldn’t outrun the bloodsuckers.

I photographed Mathilde doing the Frog Dance on one Full Moon Ride. Osa put her to shame.

When we got to our turnaround point, Osa didn’t even slow down; she just put it in whip-around and kept going. Fortunately, by the time we got back to the car to load up, the bugs were gone. Either the bug window had closed or we had satiated every mosquito around the northeast corner of the lake.

Health and welfare check

When we got into the car, I took the Ziploc package of electronics out of my jersey pocket (more about that later) and called Wife Lila to let her know we were off the LOST and headed home, even if a couple of quarts low and uncrowned.

I commented to Osa that my gas tank was a little low, but I was “pretty sure” I had enough to get us to a station. She remembered the mosquitoes and didn’t like the sound of that. She became even more concerned when the Low Fuel light flashed on. (That means I can go about another hundred miles, and we only had about 50 to go, but I didn’t share that with her.)

There’s a gas station in Indiantown

We pulled into the last gas station in Indiantown. The pumps say to pay inside, so I walked into what looked like a combination gas station, produce stand and night club and gave the clerk my credit card.

While I was pumping my gas, a guy came out of the shadows with a cell phone in his hand and asked if I had a buck. “I’m paying for the gas with a credit card as it is,” I told him, not literally being untruthful. He wandered back to stand in the shadows with another guy, waiting for someone who wanted good Karma (more about that later).

Maybe I should have given the panhandler the buck

We made it home uneventfully. Osa even said she had fun and was ready to go back again. With a stronger bug spray this time, though. When I carried everything in, I couldn’t find my MP3 player and speaker, even when I looked in the nooks and crannies of the car. My guess is that the slick Ziploc bag slipped out of my jersey pocket either at Nubbins slough or at the gas station.

Maybe I should have given the panhandler a buck to fill up my Karma bucket. If I lost it at the gas station, I hope he enjoys my taste in music.

I was originally signed up to be an exhibitor at the South Florida Bike Expo, but when an email came from the promoter saying that they were juggling space to handle additional folks, I volunteered to give up my booth.

Wall to wall bicycles

After all, I don’t have anything to sell. I don’t lead tours, so what you read here is what you get. That decision worked out well, because it freed me up to wander around shooting the other booths and get a feel for the event.

South Florida Expo open Sunday, July 18

If you missed Saturday’s show, you’ll have another shot Sunday, July 18, between 9 A.M. and 6 P.M. Admission is free, but you will have to pay for parking at Ft. Lauderdale’s War Memorial Auditorium. You can get directions and all the info at the South Florida Bike Expo website.

Charity Rides

There are lots of exhibitors who will sign you up for charity rides.

Bicycle Advocacy community represented

The South Florida Bike Coalition, League of American Cyclists, the Florida Bicycle Association and others who lobby for our right to be on the road were there.

Gallery of photos from the South Florida Bike Expo

Click on any image to make it larger.

A ride report from my brother Mark in St. Louis:

Matt, on his visit to St. Louis, was nice enough to give me a bike jersey that he and his A/B riders wear on occasion. It’s the “On Your Mark” jersey. The weather that I had been waiting for came this week and I pulled on the jersey and headed out for a ride.

That was Tuesday.

My brother is crazy

Tuesday was the day that we hit our high for the year, 98 degrees. The heat index was 102. I like to ride when it’s hot. I also like to sit in the car with the windows up when it’s hot and let the heat warm up my bones. Sorta like being a ham in an oven effect, nonetheless I like the heat to a no-pun-intended, “degree”.

I went to Forest Park and did my loops of the park and immediately noticed that I must be the only one who likes that kind of weather because there were no other riders at 3pm in the afternoon.

In fact, the park was empty of people except for some of the city kids who were sitting in the areas of the park that have waterfalls in them, and they were sitting in the water in the shade.

I admit that it was hot. With every 6 mile loop of my route I filled up a water bottle.

When traveling on a bike there is always some constant breeze (given you are going fast enough to generate one) and that became very evident each time when I stopped to fill up my water bottle. As soon as I unclipped my feet the rush of stifling heat surrounded me and the sweat would pour off me much like the waterfalls the kids had taken refuge in.

A “cool” hot T-shirt

But I like the heat. Back on my bike I began to feel the heat get the best of me around mile 28. I told myself that I would stop at mile 30 and call it a day OR when the bright sky started filling up with specks of darkness right before I blacked out. I was just rounding out my 30 mile mark when I looked over to see three other riders with me, it was Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Apparently the Angel decided to sit out this fiery furnace ride.

[Editor's note: for those of you who weren't consigned to a parochial school for eight years, plus kindergarten, you can read about the Three Men in the Fiery Furnace here.]

The heat did not beat me to the point of blacking out and luckily I was close enough at mile 30 that I could coast to my car, load my bike up and sit in the car this time with the air conditioning on FULL blast. I have learned that a 102 heat index is my bar for NOT going out to ride.

This is going to be a busy weekend. The annual Frank Stark Ride will be held in Boca Sunday, July 18, starting at 7 A.M.

Video of last year’s Frank Stark Ride

The Boca Raton Bicycle Club folks want me to emphasize that the rider who was involved in the crash at the end of the video was NOT part of the Frank Stark Ride.

My feeling is that he wasn’t part of the ride, but he was in the midst of riders who WERE and it was the luck of the draw that an elderly rider turned in front of him instead of someone else. Just because you are part of an organized ride doesn’t mean that bad things can’t happen. Y’all be careful out there.

You KNOW you’re in Boca when they offer iced towels

Here are more pictures from last year’s Frank Stark Ride.

South Florida Bike Expo in Ft. Lauderdale

The South Florida Bike Expo will be held in Ft. Lauderdale’s War Memorial Auditorium Saturday July 17 from 9 A.M. to 7 P.M. and Sunday from 9 A.M. to 6 P.M. Admission is free.

The event is billed as the largest expo and sale of bicycles and bike accessories in South Florida’s history. We’re going to be there, so stop by and put a face to the name.

Osa called at 5 P.M. and said, “How about a ride around 6:30? Sounded good to me, even if the hit index was in the mid-90s. The great thing about evening rides is that they only get cooler.

My Surly Long Haul Trucker seemed a little hard to pull out of it’s airconditioned shed. I could almost hear it shrieking, “Not the hills again, not the hills!”  It was referring to my piddly little 1.9-mile ride last week in Missouri.

The LHT had the right stuff for the hills, but I didn’t. It usually takes me a few hours to remember the rhythm for going up and down and when to shift.

The Palm Beach sky turned pastel

Osa likes to ride along the beach, even if there’s a headwind. Last night’s wind came across at a slight angle and felt more like a cooling breeze than an impediment to progress.

The setting sun turned the clouds and sky into a range of pastel shades. I stopped for a few minutes to marvel at the variety of shipping moving across the horizon. Everything from a small sailboat to work boats, a tug and a freighter were represented.

Dusk in Palm Beach

Just before dark-thirty, I paused long enough to capture the last gasp of sunlight bouncing off the clouds.

I’ve been watching the Tour de France, which inspired me to attack Osa on some of the nose-bleed 20-foot elevation changes we encountered. As I blew past her, I had to remember that it’s a race only if the other person knows it too.

When we got back to the shed, I had the feeling that my LHT had forgiven me for embarrassing it in the hills of Missouri.