This fall the weather has been very good for cycling in South Florida with lots of dry, sunny days. I had done several 200km rides, including two each of the Port St. Lucie loop, Juno Beach to Vero Beach and the Sebring Lakes loop. This meant I had already completed the plenty of 200km rides this year, similar to the original 20 * 200km in 2020 project. In the spring I had a few very long rides, and the short days of December are not usually the best time for very long rides. So I hadn't really planned on this one, but when I saw the wind shift forecast for Dec-2, I was reminded of how I used a very similar wind pattern almost 3 years ago to ride coast 2 coast.
Last time I did this ride I was struggling hard during the last quarter of the route, at on point ready to quit and calling an Uber - only when I couldn't raise one, did I decide to keep going for a little bit and recovered enough to close the loop. How would it go some 3 years later, roughly same time of year, and generally feeling pretty fit from many recent rides?
When I decided to go for it there was just one day to prepare. Batteries need to be charged, I put on a new rear tire, cleaned and lubricated the bike, an extra bag is mounted next to the handlebar to hold a 3rd bottle. But most importantly, you have to get into the right frame of mind for an adventure like this. Being out on the road for 24 hours brings an overwhelming amount of fresh air, sensory stimulation and sleep deprivation. There will be highs and lows. Knowing what to expect and how your mind and body react in situations like that is key. The only way to find out is basically to just do it and live the experience a few times.
This time I'm making two modifications to the previous route. First, I plan to add Marco Island in the SW corner of the route. Should be interesting to experience this area at night. Second, I plan to come back via the Northern side of Lake Okeechobee. This will add some 50km or so, but in total it should fit nicely into a 24 hr, roughly 500km ride.
The wind was forecast to blow from the SE on Monday and all through the night, then shift to S on Tuesday morning, and finally to strong SW on Tuesday afternoon. Timing the wind right is key for such a long distance ride. So I would have to start riding through the night to arrive on the West Coast around Tuesday morning. As so often before, I'm taking the TriRail train to get down to Miami airport. The last train during weekdays arrives there at 10:50pm, so I plan on starting the ride at 11pm. I leave home just after 8pm to get to Mangonia Park station some 15km from home in time to board the last train South.
I often use the 2 hour train ride to get myself into the right frame of mind. This time I strike up a conversation with a young man, Mike from Jamaica, who is excited about and feels inspired by my project. I mention to him that a large portion of such an undertaking is mental strength. You have to be comfortable with yourself "out there" in the middle of the night. Your mind often determines your limits as it will quit long before your body does. That's one of the beauties of this sport: You can still do it at older age even when your body is no longer as strong as decades earlier...
Time goes by fast thanks to the conversation and Mike wishes me well and sends me off with a prayer. I drink plenty of water and eat my first power bar to start out. All trackers connected (Garmin, Suunto, iPhone), starting and off we go. It often feels a bit strange at the beginning of such an adventure. You don't know exactly what to expect, but you have a sense that there will be lots of interesting experiences ahead. How will it go this time?
The first part is to connect a few km South to US41 aka the Tamiami Trail. It starts as SW 8 St in downtown Miami and runs in a straight line due West for more than 60km before you hit the first bend in the road. I thought briefly about rolling back East to the very beginning and the Ocean water, but those first miles are relatively busy with traffic and no shoulder for bikes makes me want to minimize time spent on this road.
After about 25km I pass the Westernmost road Hwy 997 - this is where I road the BMW R 1300 GS just a month ago of so down to the Florida Keys to avoid I95 and the Turnpike - with a casino on an Indian reservation. It's almost exactly midnight.
To continue West from here feels like leaving city life behind and heading into the darkness under a starry sky. A big airplane is turning low and slow into final approach to Miami airport. It adds to the feeling of remoteness somehow and gives an indication that I'm slowly getting away from where I started. Still some 135km (at least 5 hours) to get to Marco Island.
The experience on this part of the route was different last time, as I had the rising sun behind me. This time it's dark, but thankfully quiet and very little traffic. If I hadn't cycled here before, it would definitely feel a bit spooky. But that's part of the allure to leave the regular sights behind and head on out into the unknown. At one point I pass the entrance to Everglades National Park's shark valley. At first I roll past the road sign, but then stop at the sign from the other direction which makes for a nice photo op under the stars looking back with Miami's city lights in the distance.
There are a few Indian villages by the side of the road and the occasional machines for canal or road work - other than that it is dark and peaceful out here. At 60km the road bends slightly to the WNW in the Big Cypress wildlife management area. The tall cypress trees create patterns of shadows on the road like last time, except from the moon light today. One positive aspect of the SE wind is that it blows mild air into the center of the state and hence there is very little risk of fog. The temperature remains around 70F, near perfect for riding. As a result, I won't need any other clothing the entire 24 hours - just brought a rain jacket in case of possible showers next day but thankfully didn't have to use it once.
These are the moments when it just feels good to glide quietly along, listening to the hum of a well-oiled bicycle and perceiving the inner feelings of your well-trained body, enjoying the movement, generating body heat to stay comfortably warm but not sweating due to the cooling breeze, nobody dictating your speed or direction - that's when I feel the ultimate sense of freedom and agency, that's when I'm in flow. This is a big part of why I ride.
It is another 3 days until full moon, so the moon will be setting about 3 hours before sunrise. During clear sky night rides the moon also creates this ambient low light which makes it easier to orient yourself - not that you would need any route-finding skills on this road... I don't turn on my music as I instead focus on the sounds of the night - insects chirping, amphibians quaking, some egret birds crowing as they take flight when I roll by. Normally I would be sleeping right now, but here I feel wide awake, ready to take in whatever sensory stimuli come my way.
Some hours into the ride (~ 3:30am) I'm running low on water despite having started with 3 bottles. On a hunch I stop at a ranger station of the Big Cypress National Preserve despite it being all deserted at night. And luckily they have restrooms and a drinking fountain accessible - feels great to drink plenty and then leave with all 3 bottles freshly filled. (The only gas station anywhere near me at the upcoming intersection turns out to be closed, so I wouldn't have found water there, which could have turned into a serious problem.)
Also makes me gaze up at the sky full of stars. One of the differences to rides many years ago is the amazing capability of the iPhone for night-time shots. Here is the view of the setting moon ahead in the West, showing plenty of stars above:
After the moon sets it gets completely dark. Whereas before there were stretches of several minutes between cars where I turned off my headlight, now it would be impossible to continue without it. In this region there are some specimen of the rare Florida panther - I half wish to see one crossing the road in front of me, but this is all I get to see of them:
Soon I take the turnoff leaving the Tamiami Trail to head towards Marco Island. This will be the SW corner of the route and a short stretch into the Southerly winds, but thankfully only moderately blowing. On this stretch there is not a single car for about 15km, I have the road all to me, myself and my thoughts. Even if the ride stopped here in upcoming Marco Island, I would already consider this a memorable adventure. But a lot more to come today...
First there is a tall bridge to cross to get to Marco Island. From the top of that bridge you get a nice view, even though the nighttime view is obviously limited and quite different from what you see during daytime.
I had turned off all lights to avoid the white or red glare in the foreground. The green dot is the Garmin headlight charging from my power bank. The blue dot is the Garmin radar indicating its connection to the Garmin Edge bike computer. Quite a lot of technology and lots of batteries required to support this experience. One can also see the lights from Marco Island beach condominiums on the left and the glow of Naples city lights in the distance. After riding for hours in the darkness this gives new meaning to the term light pollution.
Rolling through Marco Island at 5:30am it's still dark and hardly any traffic. Good that I remember the route from 3 years ago to get to the main beach road, where I also roll down the public beach access path to arrive at the end of the road. This is as far West as you can go. First crossing of the state completed.
I find a gas station with 7 Eleven convenience store that's open even before 6am. I stop for a big coffee and some pastry, as well as gatorade sports drink. That feels good to get some hot coffee! Upon resuming the ride I notice the first signs of dawn, which provides a further motivational boost. And the wind is blowing from the South as forecast, reassuring to know that it will be gently pushing me along. Here is the view from the other bridge as I'm leaving Marco Island around 6:30am.
And the rising (or setting) sun always creates interesting sights as in this community lake by the exit road.
Now we are back to daylight, traffic, and traffic lights. This stretch along US41 into Naples is fast (tailwind and wind from passing trucks push me along), but hectic and requires full concentration. I can feel the effort of the night ride both in the legs, butt and back muscles, but also in the mind which is running on high but not the same as fresh. The first communities of Naples are lining the road, indicating that I'm getting close. I particularly remember this terracotta color apartment complex which is warmly illuminated in a cloud break:
Soon I stop at the beach in Naples which I have now seen a couple of times.
Somehow it feels a bit underwhelming today, no particular satisfaction from having reached this point - perhaps since I was already at the beach in Marco Island this time? So I just refill my water bottles, drink and eat a Clif bar but soon set out to continue Northbound. I know this area from a few rides this way and also from a ride while visiting my friend Klaus who until recently owned an apartment right on the beach here. So I just follow the route from memory and hardly need to consult my GPS. This type of navigating city streets contrasts with the open country roads - sights, sounds, and smells so very different. All this adds up to the full experience of a long bike ride.
After meandering through the streets of some beach front communities I get out to the long barrier island chain around Estero Bay South of Fort Myers Beach. These stretches are my favorite, as you get good views of the water and beaches.
Today's weather is a bit cloudy with some chance of rain showers for a few hours. I keep an eye on the radar and weather forecast so as to perhaps dodge a rain shower if possible. At the beginning of the island stretch near Bonita Springs I stop at a beachside restaurant. In fact, it looks like some rain is headed my way coming in from the SW within the hour, so I continue on and hurry up to get to Fort Myers Beach, hoping to stay dry and arrive there for a brunch while waiting out the rain.
Along the way I pass the new bridge built over the Big Carlos pass from Big Hickory Island to Estero Island. This bridge had been under construction the last time I was riding here in the spring of 2025. Good to see it completed. Adds some vertical meters, but also a better view than from the previous draw bridge. There is also still a lot of ongoing construction all the way along the island, remodeling and rebuilding after the devastating hurricane Ian tore through here 3 years ago. But traffic isn't bad at this time of day and soon I arrive at the pier plaza in Fort Myers Beach. I find a breakfast place around 9:45am with covered outdoor seating, overlooking the next bridge to get off the island, perfect to wait out any potential rain.
I spend almost an hour here, eating brunch and drinking lots of water and coffee. This is the Westernmost point of my route today and just a few km short of the halfway mark. I also use this time to charge my lights and iPhone. I didn't bring any charger to plug into an outlet, just a fully charged battery block. That turned out to be a mistake, as after charging the Garmin headlight and topping off the iPhone the block's charge went down by half and wouldn't be enough to recharge the radar and other lights fully. The waitress helps me out by charging my phone behind the counter. Next time I will bring a charger to be able to plug in - you can find electrical outlets almost anywhere.
Somewhat to my surprise and relief the rain passed us to the North and so the roads stayed dry. I continue over the tall bridge, remembering when I first cycled here in the spring of 2023 witnessing the destruction of hurricane Ian in October 2022.
More dark clouds were forming, and I used that and the strengthening SW wind to move at a good clip towards the Northeast. This section has a lot of traffic from the city of Fort Myers, with big roads and intersections. Thankfully there are also some bike paths, which creates a welcome separation from the vehicular traffic.
For 3 hours I didn't stop to take a photo with the iPhone, just using the Nikon Coolpix camera to snap a few shots here and there, often just at the red light of an intersection or catching an interesting sight by the road. In some spots I feel a bit out of place with my bicycle, but then again that also adds up to the impressions of a long day out on the road.
It is good to know the terrain, that probably also helps with the mental aspect of such a long ride. As always, one shouldn't think of the final goal or how many more miles or hours to get there. Instead it's best to break it into smaller sections and just think about getting there, nothing beyond that.
My next goal is the town of LaBelle. I have done this stretch many times before, and the tailwind definitely helps with speed and morale. Due to my aching butt I feel I need to take a break again - it's been about 2 hours since the brunch stop, and the 300km mark is just ahead. So upon reaching that psychological milestone I stop by the side of the highway and lay down in the shade of some trees for a 10 minute power nap.
This scene reminds me of the 400km group ride we did in 2003 from Fargo to Winnipeg - we also had a few similar rest stops back then. How nice to just lay there and close the eyes for a few minutes. And just like back then it requires discipline to get up and going again...
Thankfully the clouds look less menacing right now and the tailwind continues to push me along nicely. Due to the recent rest stop, this time I don't pause in LaBelle at all. In keeping an eye on the time of day I calculate that I should comfortably be able to get to Okeechobee by sunset. Lots of calculations going on about speed, arrival time, remaining rest time etc.
On the way past LaBelle to Moore Haven - here I have only ridden once before in the spring on a large 327km loop from Okeechobee via Fort Myers and Arcadia - I notice several police cars, fire trucks and ambulances racing the other way. Perhaps they are rushing to the scene of a bad accident somewhere behind me? Their sirens are so loud that I close my left ear for protection. Since my Garmin radar is out of battery power and not working, I don't see or hear any vehicles coming from behind. And just as the super loud ambulance is passing me, a shockwave of wind and noise shakes me to the core: A big truck is passing me from behind at highway speeds of 100km/h and had to stay in its lane due to oncoming ambulance. (Normally trucks will swerve into the opposite lane to give you more clearance or slow down...) That was very close as the shoulder is only 2-3 feet wide and completely unexpected as I didn't hear this one coming. My adrenaline shoots way up and I'm both scared that it happened but also relieved that it's over - easily the most dangerous moment of this entire ride!
Then I get a notification on my Garmin that rain is starting in 15 minutes in my location. I hadn't looked behind me in a while and now realize that dark clouds with visible rain bands are forming behind towards the West and rapidly approaching.
Unlike with a car or motorcycle, you can't outrun approaching weather on a bicycle. But I may be able to reach a large gas station just West of Moore Haven which is now maybe 10km away. I push hard and feel a bit rushed - it would be a pity if I got soaked just before pulling into the shelter of a gas station and then have to deal with wet shoes and clothes... As I race East I notice a nice mark on my bike computer coming up:
350km in exactly 12 hours of ride time, for an average of 29.2 km/h. A lot has been going well so far, and it looks like my good luck weather-wise is holding and I just get to pull into the gas station a minute before the rain starts. More water, gatorade, coffee and pastry. Probably not the best food, but it keeps me going. Thankfully the shower is short and soon the sun comes out again, starting to dry up the road. I can't wait for that, though, and so I start rolling somewhat slower in hopes of reaching dry roads a bit further North. Here is where the route diverges from that of 3 years ago as I go North around Lake Okeechobee, whereas the shorter version would be to continue East around the Southern part of the lake.
About 60km to Okeechobee town, my next goal. Due to the wait-out-the-rain stop at the gas station I am now somewhat short on time to get there by sunset. As always, the low sun paints everything in a warm orange glow. It is beautiful to see this scenery, albeit with intensifying exhaustion. This is again where the mental strength determines what you're thinking about and how you perceive the physical discomfort. I focus on the roadside scenery.
Soon the 400km mark rolls around and I approach the Kissimmee river near the Northern end of Lake Okeechobee.
Right after this bridge the paved trail along the levee starts - always a pleasure to ride away from the road traffic and elevated with good views all around (so long as the wind is in your favor). Looking back I just catch a photo of sunset around 5:30pm.
My Garmin Edge bike computer screen inverts colors to black background. The photo taken with the Nikon is blurry due to the fading daylight and longer exposure, but I still like the numbers I see - 408km in 14 hours of riding for an average of 29.1 km/h - quite the trip already:
From here it's only a few km to get to Lake Okeechobee park. On this stretch I notice the exhaust trail of a rocket launch up at Cape Canaveral and gaze up at the rocket accelerating away from Earth. What a different view it would be from aboard that rocket ship!
The Lake Okeechobee park here has good facilities and a photogenic pier; however, I don't bother rolling down as we are already past sunset and hence photo ops would not be as rewarding down there.
Right across from this park on the other side of the levee at the intersection of two highways is a 24h open gas station. A refueling stop at this place has become a fixture of my rides in this area, no matter what time of day. More gatorade, water, some salty chips and the last of my four Clif Bars...
I borrow a charger from the cashier and plug in both my iPhone and my Garmin rear radar light. The headlight was already fully charged from my block during the second part of the night ride some 12 hours ago, but the block didn't have enough charge left for the other devices. I was lucky to have found someone with a charger here - not sure what I would have done without it? I spend almost an hour here - longer than I had planned, but since it's already dark outside it doesn't matter much whether I get home 1/2 hour sooner or later.
The remaining 100km will all be in the dark. On my 511km coast 2 coast ride in March 2021 to Punta Gorda and back around the lake I struggled mightily on this stretch and had to dig really deep to not give up. How would it go this time? I know the route very well, which helps a lot. I wouldn't want to have to navigate new terrain when I'm this tired in the dark. And the first 40km are mostly on the levee, away from traffic and with nice views of the lake shore bending towards the horizon.
However, this is also the slowest section of the ride due to the wind being from SW perpendicular to my direction heading SE. On the levee you're completely exposed, so any wind from the side or even headwind will slow you down quite a lot. You can also see this in the dark blue color on that section indicating slower speeds (green and yellow are colors of higher speed) of the map at the top of this post. So I need to be extra patient on this stretch - there is the mental strength component again...
After seeing the bridge and canal lock lights from far away and counting down the mile markers painted on the levee at every mile I finally get to the bridge at Port Mayaca on the East side of the lake. A place of nice memories and of finishing many a long ride, such as the 410km midnight loop back in March 2020 starting here down to Fort Lauderdale and back via South Bay and all around the lake. Always stopping on top of the bridge for some obligatory photos - day or night:
Note the lights visible along the shoreline with the Okeechobee city lights clearly visible in the distance.
Ok, another 60km to go. If there is no flat tire or other mechanical I'm pretty confident I will make it back home. And likely just within the 24 hour limit by 11pm. My level of discomfort isn't too bad and I am able to still enjoy some music - a bit surprised that my Trekz-Air headphones last as long as they do. After the quiet Kanner Highway 76 I turn SE onto the Beeline Highway 710 near Indiantown just on the South side of the bridge over the St. Lucie canal. From here it's one long straight line to PGA Blvd, then due East to Juno Beach...
I'm counting down the km in my mind. It seems the shoulder of the Beeline Highway gets very bumpy in Palm Beach county, as if to save the worst for last. I often stand up and coast to relieve pressure on my crotch, and stretch legs and back muscles and just simply to change position. A freight train passes me with loud train horn blowing on the tracks parallel to the highway. Somewhat hectic, but thankfully the traffic is subsiding as it is close to 10pm already. I stop for one more drink of Gatorade at the intersection with Pratt Whitney Road. I'm inside 25km now...
Finally I get to the turnoff onto PGA Blvd heading straight East. And after a few minutes the 500km mark rolls by, giving me a bright smile and great sense of accomplishment.
I take a selfie with the Nikon on the bridge at Sandhill Crane park, showing a high five for five metric centuries. What a great feeling! The remaining crossing of Palm Beach Gardens on PGA Blvd is uneventful and soon I reach US-1, turn North and roll to the public beach access in Juno Beach at Pelican Lake where I walk the dogs every morning. I have reached the end of the road, just sand and Ocean beyond this point. And it's just minutes to 11pm, almost exactly 24 hours after I started down in Miami.
This is only the third time I have exceeded 500km in 24 hours in Florida, and by some metrics the longest one in Florida. Some 21 years ago I did 2 longer 24 hr rides in Fargo, some 536km down to Nebraska and some 701km across the state of Minnesota up to the Canadian border - the latter one with very strong tailwind support. They all amount to about 18-19 hrs of ride time within 24 hrs elapsed time, average speed depending on (tail)wind and terrain. As far as roundtrip loops go, this distance today is my high bar and will probably remain my single longest ride in Florida - some 531km (330mi) with the initial leg down to TriRail included. Due to the short daylight in December it is also by far the longest night riding (12.5 hrs) I've ever done on a single ride. Here is the link to the ride on Strava with several photos as well.
In reflecting back, a few things I learned on this ride:
All told, I'm very satisfied with this ride. Often when I talk to people out on the road or at a gas station about my rides, they ask me: "Are you training for something?" My response is usually: "No. But if I were training for something, it would be to be strong enough to do such rides!" One man's recent comeback to that was: "You are living the life!" Amen!
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