After an exhausting couple of months in South Florida, I withdrew to my special spot on Sebastian Inlet. In just four days, my time in a community of friendly and considerate tent campers brought me back to life. Biking the A1A stretch made my mornings, relaxing by the ocean made my afternoons, and gorgeous bay sunsets put the day to rest. Listening to the waves lap on the shore lulled me to sleep peacefully. Life can be so simple.
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For those of you who enjoy a simplistic overview, I did: - Cycle 5,175 miles - the most miles ever - but I plan to reduce mileage and increase the speed this year. - Drive 5,143 miles and I'm trying to lower that number. Where’s the train? - Read 85 books but I’m planning to read less, write more in 2025. - Eat one fantastic reuben in Clayton, NY where Thousand Island Dressing was discovered! - Visit five states and one Canadian village, but spent nearly 4 months here and there in New York. - Take time on my 10th anniversary to look back at the years of this journey in wonder. And for the rest of us…
I’m compelled to look a little closer at 2024 before stepping into 2025 in February. While my sadness persists, it’s time for a positive look at the wonderful moments of the past year that may influence the coming one. Following January in South Florida survival mode, I parked myself in a sweet studio in Sebastian for two months, a town I’ve visited umpteen times. I was somewhat delusional about my ability to sit indoors for hours and do memoir writing. The reality is that I found the indoor, connected life highly-overrated, so went on to primitive camp near the Sebastian River before hopping on the Auto Train. Deadlines brought me to the Eastern Shore of Maryland where I was gifted with another 8 years of residency via my new "Real ID". I thoroughly enjoyed a studio on Kent Island surrounded by the beauty of the Bay; much eating and long chats with dear friends; a walking tour, a long-overdue bike shop visit, and yes, a storage check. A bumper crash was a headache, but I was still ready to continue my stint as a social butterfly. It was stormy weather from the Shore to Western PA, but I arrived to four welcoming faces and felt right at home for a week. The tent then went up at Letchworth State Park, a spot recommended by many during the past few years. I did enjoy it since it was early spring, and a New York friend visited to hike and dine. After a relaxing week, I was ready to arrive at my friend Barbara's house near the Erie Canal to celebrate her birthday. As it turned out, there was an enormous itinerary: a retirement dinner, a friends’ party, time with her daughter Maeve, the pool, the trail, and the wine bar. Fun. June arrived as I began my jaunt through the 1000 Islands region – a month-long apartment on Sawmill Bay in Chaumont; day trips to Cape Vincent where Lake Ontario drains into the St Lawrence River; then pitching my tent at Cedar Point to visit Clayton and Boldt Castle on Heart Island. It was scenic, and the locals and tourists were friendly and chatty, too. It was also the place to enjoy the annual reuben – yes, with Thousand Island Dressing. On the 4th, a trip across the International Bridge brought me to lovely Westport, Ontario, Canada at the west end of upper Rideau Lake. It was summer and hot, hot, hot so the beach at Sand Lake was a favorite spot to read, swim, nap & listen to bluegrass music. The Rideau Museum, a day trip to Perth, ketchup chips and butter tarts were also quite a pleasure. Unfortunately, my Airbnb stay was hosted by a 60+ year old man-child so the trip was cut short. That said, I will not let all the glorious times spent in Canada be overshadowed by this one. Good karma brought me to the last spot available at Whetstone Gulf State Park in Lowville, New York where I enjoyed 5 days of peace and quiet, cycled gorgeous farmland, and stopped at farm stands offering sweet corn, honey and whoopie pies. Mother Nature delivered just what I needed to carry on. New York continued to please in the small, affordable town of Hoosick Falls by offering a comfortable life with easy access to neighboring Vermont. There were numerous conversations with locals who are proud of their village and are working to preserve it; while live music is definitely a summer thing. Weekly visits to Bennington, less than 10 miles east, had me once again yearning to live in the Green Mountain state, though honestly, Hoosick Falls is almost the place. Much to my surprise, my birthday was celebrated on both sides of the border. There were two surprise visits from friends that made my birth month extra special – Michele with a ticket to the Dorset Playhouse and the official birthday dinner at Bistro 42 with Heidi. Yes, I also got mail with thoughtful greetings and a few pretty packages to open on birthday morning. The actual Day didn't have any agenda, per se, but the universe did provide. In just an hour, I visited friends in Guilderland who welcomed me back for a few days following a few hours cycling along the Mohawk-Hudson Bike Trail, NY’s 97-mile river route. A few hours west and I was near Ithaca, NY, though I didn't visit the city as Treman State Park was so delightful all week long. There were a few challenging weather nights that did not deter me from hiking the rugged gorge, wooded trails, and stunning waterfalls. As temps dropped, I pointed toward the Western Shore of Maryland with a month in Mechanicsville, yet another area of my domicile state that was new to me. For the first time, I chose to skip the drive south this year and hop the Auto Train from Virginia, so I inched a bit further west in mid-October to a primitive cabin in Woodford. Overnight temps dropped into the 30s el pronto but it was quite cozy, and at the Harvest Fest in nearby Bowling Green it was a big debate -- crab bisque or crab cakes? My next pick, Colonial Beach, is a unique place bounded by the Potomac River to the east and Monroe Bay to the west. I had an enjoyable time here on two feet and two wheels as I admired the views, the small beach cottages and the remaining 19th century architecture. Friendly people, too. My then not-so-friendly welcome to Florida was offered by a member of the Amtrak Police. I’m not afraid. We also arrived 5 hours late so I was pleased to have booked a room for a few nights in Sanford. The bike trail beside the lake was open, and it was a pleasant few days with considerate people before hitting the road to an oh-so-familiar spot -- St. Lucie South on the Okeechobee Waterway. Tent life is still $10/night. A mere 7 miles east was my first-time camping experience via Hipcamp with a return to Port Salerno. I had my own little corner lakeside while sharing conversation with two very interesting women. It was then time to head to South Florida for three celebratory dates on the calendar – a friend’s birthday, Thanksgiving, and my 10th Anniversary celebration on December 4th. Yes, 10 years since I locked the door for the final time and hit the road. Thankfully, I’d decided to ignore Christmas this year as my sister Martha passed away just a few days later, then my brother-in-law Paul on January 8th. It’s been a sad and exhausting month but 2025 is here whether I’m ready or not. I’ll be cocooning in my tent in familiar surroundings beginning February 2, and thankfully, have planned where I’ll be laying my head until mid-April. As mid-November rolled in it was time to point further south with three celebratory dates on the calendar. Mark turning 62 and now happily awaiting his first social security check. Thanksgiving with eggnog, the Macy’s Parade, and an enjoyable day with friendly people, too much food, plenty of pie.
When December hit I began planning my 10th Anniversary celebration for the 4th. Yes, it has been 10 years since I locked the door for the final time at 207 Tred Avon Avenue for a year on the road. No, I never imagined what I was stepping out to! Who could have? The Party Balloon Bursts For whatever reason, I’d decided to ignore Christmas this year. I wasn’t feeling very religious or capitalist but perhaps it was simply foreshadowing of what was to come. On December 11th, my sister Martha was hospitalized, and she passed 18 days later – a far too rapid farewell. Gratefully, I spoke with her from afar, though sadly the airlines kept me from her service in New England. December was a month of feeling very high then very low. I’m stepping into 2025 slowly but will take a look at the past year before I regroup and plunge right in. Stay with me. It was an enjoyable Fall season in Maryland and Virginia this year though evening temps convinced me that pointing south was a good idea. While I’ll admit to second guessing my choice of Florida for Election Day, the results and subsequent behaviors were unexpected. For the first time, I chose to skip the drive south and hop the Auto Train from Virginia. While I always request a window seat to sleep, I did question seat #13 on car 5313. “That doesn’t seem like a good number for me,” I told the service woman, but she just laughed and carried on. Lo and behold there was a woman in my seat when I arrived who was none too pleased that she wasn’t getting the window. Not my concern though she ignored me for the entire trip. Even better. At some point during the night, the train had a mechanical breakdown in North Carolina. While I missed this scene, we did arrive in Florida nearly 5 hours late. Oh well, I’d booked a room for a few nights within a few miles. When my car rolled off the train in less than an hour, I was quite pleased and with genuine glee, I ran to jump in and drive away. Suddenly, a giant man starts screaming, “Ma’am, we are not valeting cars today!” but this doesn’t quite register as I’m near my car, the door is open, and no change had been mentioned. “Ma’am, get behind the line now!” this giant yells while pointing all too closely at me. This registers, so I roll my eyes and walk away. As I turn, I’m facing 150 or so people staring at me. Welcome to Florida, though Detective Kai Sullivan is currently under informal investigation. Did you know that there is an Amtrak Police Department? I do now. Always pay attention to that gut feeling. The End of the Line Beyond convenience, there were a few reasons I’d booked a short stay in Sanford. There was the need for bike repairs and I want to support Bicikleta – a female-run bike shop. I also knew that I could safely ride along the River Trail on Lake Monroe, as well as enjoy time in the Historic District. The big surprise was that Sanford had been flooding for three weeks from residual storm surge of Hurricane Milton. So, it was simply good timing that the bike trail was available as portions of the road were still closed and repairs were underway in neighborhoods. All in all, it was a pleasant few days sharing a home with three guests – a woman pondering relocation to Paris, a young man constantly working, and an elder who authored the book, The Taxi Chronicles. It was a household of considerate people and a good resting spot before hitting the road. St. Lucie South, Lake Okeechobee It’s been two or more years since I’ve visited this unassuming Army Corps of Engineers campground, but it’s a familiar stop for me to comfortably enjoy tent life at an incredible price. Day time was spent walking about the neighborhood, enjoying a bike route I know well, and having occasional chats with RVers and a boater or two. Evenings came really early with the clock change yet I didn’t mind cocooning in my tent with a good book and rising with the sun. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve put up a tent along this St. Lucie Lock so I swore I wouldn’t take another sunset photo. Promises, promises. Port Salerno My next stop was a mere 7 miles east, and a first-time camping experience via Hipcamp. Touted as the “Airbnb of the outdoors”, it’s existed for a decade but never suited my needs. This year, I wanted to return to Port Salerno and be outside, so a tent spot in “a park setting with a lake view” seemed right for 10 nights. My last stay in this sweet town was March 2020 but locals continue to work toward preserving its historic fishing village feel. My tent location was a neighborhood just a half-mile to the waterfront district on an acre lot homesteaded by two women – a Californian and a New Englander. I had my own little corner of their world, access to an outdoor shower, a compost toilet, and an electric plug. Walking about this town of 12,000 was easy, while driving to the beach in Hobe Sound or to bike Jupiter Island was just 10 or so minutes away. Founded in 1894 as Salerno by settlers from the Italian town of the same name, the "Port" was added in 1924. Most people in the early years made their living by fishing commercially or working in the nearby pineapple farms. Today, the marine industry has taken the place of many commercial fishing establishments, though commercial and sport fishing are still key. Days, as well as nights, were spent outdoors. Best of all, as time passed, I learned more and more about my hosts and enjoyed their company by the campfire, and during the last evening, over homecooked Indian food. The experience felt like days gone by – sharing space as well as a genuine interest in each other’s lives. I’ve now landed further south for the remainder of the year where the population has increased, the greenspace has diminished, and the stress level has risen. It’s time to regroup, close out 2024 to do lists, and begin pondering what 2025 may bring. With an Auto Train ticket in hand, I inched a bit further west into Virginia in mid-October -– less than a two-hour drive. I’d originally planned to put my tent up along the Potomac River but absurd camping fees changed my mind. This was quite a blessing in disguise as overnight temperatures then dropped into the 30s el pronto. Life took me to the small town of Woodford for a cabin without plumbing but with one electric plug and a portable heater. It was quite cozy though I was definitely wide awake for the early morning walk for the first cup of coffee. The neighborhood was as quiet as can be, the host was a charming, outdoorsy woman, and the narrow country roads were cautiously bikable. Most of my free time was spent 10 minutes up the road in Bowling Green, a spot where I’d spent an hour or two on a 2010 bike adventure. The town is actually the birthplace of thoroughbred horse racing in North America as the Hoomes family, who were granted land by the Crown in 1669, imported the first thoroughbred racehorses and were avid breeders. It’s a sweet place with an active Main Street and about 1200 folks, but geographically it’s at too many crossroads (the intersection of routes 301, 207 and 2). My first day in town I was enamored with the friendly, chatty people, as well as the availability of hot water and a flush toilet. It’s true. A few days later, I was at the Harvest Festival greeting familiar faces and debating crab bisque or crab cakes. Good choice all around. Yes, the Potomac River I’ve had my eye on Colonial Beach, Virginia for a year or two as an Airbnb listing caught my attention. The owner is a retired Teacher/Librarian and his description is warm and welcoming. As circumstances go, he’s in Texas meeting his grandchild, but his partner has been taking good care of me. Colonial Beach is just 2.8 square miles in total area, yet the town's two-and-a-half miles of beaches are the second longest in Virginia. It’s a unique place of about 4,000 people that’s bounded by the Potomac River to the east and Monroe Bay to the west. While I didn’t play tourist (too much), it’s also the birthplace of George Washington and James Monroe. An interesting fact is that the land along the Potomac is Virginia but the River is Maryland which continues to create interesting circumstances such as “the infamous oyster wars” from 1865-1959, and today, “the Riverboat on the Potomac” (read: casino cruise). Nevertheless, none of this interfered with an enjoyable time here on two feet and two wheels as I admired the views, the small beach cottages and the remaining 19th century architecture. People are friendly, and along my bike route I counted no less than 10 Little Library boxes; pausing at each and every one while pondering trades. In the morning I return to driving mode for what I hope will be a 1.5 hour trek to the train station. |
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February 2025
AuthorCyclist, writer, teacher, avid reader, bike/ped advocate, nomad, pie lover Categories |