Tour de SoFla - Miami 2 Naples 2 Juno

Ever since I started the habit of 200+km day rides I looked for interesting loops - inspired by lakes, coasts or other geographic factors. One such long ride was to cross the Everglades on the Tamiami Trail between Miami and Naples. It's the Southern most road you can take in Florida, beyond is just swamp and then Ocean. And there is a convenient way to get to Miami by TriRail. But could this be combined to form a loop for a long day ride somehow? With the right wind bringing tailwind along large parts, it could just work.

After waiting for 2+ years for the right weather (primarily shifting tailwind, but also close to full moon and of course clear sky), Feb-2, 2023 (Groundhog Day of all dates!) shaped up to be the right day. I took the day off from work, switched to prep mode and charged all the batteries as this would be a long ride with many hours in the dark!

February 2, 2023

The alarm goes off at 2:45am. All batteries have been fully charged, lights, bottles and GPS mounted on the bike. All I need to do is get dressed, have a small breakfast and head on out the door. The first leg is some 10 miles to Mangonia Park, the Northern-most station of the TriRail train. On weekdays, the first train departs for Miami at 4:00am. I am there with 10 minutes to spare to buy a ticket and not miss it.

The train ride is almost 2 hours. I've done it several times, including twice in the summer 2021 for rides to the Keys and back home along A1A. There are some nice, quiet backroads to get to Old Cutler road and continue South. Today is different: I just need to go around the airport and connect with Hwy 41 heading West on the Tamiami Trail. The first 10 miles or so are a bit hectic, initially there isn't even a shoulder, but soon the road widens and most of the commuter traffic is going the other way.

After about an hour I'm out of the city and the sun is about to rise. Traffic moderates and there is a shoulder now.

Thankfully the temperature is mild, very light winds from the SE and the proximity to the Atlantic Ocean prevent it from being cold despite a severe ice storm in Texas and extremely cold air in the NorthEast of the US the very next day (setting a record low windchill recording on Mt. Washington in NH of -108F - see here). By contrast, here I only have my bike bib, jersey and the UV arm protectors as clothing for the whole ride, no need to bring a backpack!

It is calm, which gives the canal next to Hwy 41 a glass-like surface, reflecting flying birds or palm trees on the other side like a mirror. This is also the default flight path for airplanes landing at Miami International Airport, so I see many planes already lit up in the morning sun.

Sunrise is always nice to see, and having left home some 4 hours ago (with a 2 hour train ride in between) it is good to see this ride getting filled with plenty of sunlight. There are four gravel riders on the other side of the canal - maybe they pity me as having to stay on the road, but I don't mind, certainly not with as little traffic as I'm encountering here.

There isn't much to look at other than grass land and swamp on all sides. Occasionally there is an airboat operation or a small Indian village by the side of the road. I pass the memorial to the 1996 crash victims of ValuJet 592, which the four gravel riders appear to have stopped briefly. But I have a long way to go and don't want to break my rhythm just now, so I continue pedaling.

After 60km there is the first bend in the road, and the road turns to NW entering the Big Cypress Preserve. The cypress trees provide a welcome change in scenery, with the early morning sun casting long shadows.

I see lots of birds in the canals on either side of the road, often taking flight just before I arrive and fleeing to higher places in the trees. I've noticed this before and still wonder why loud trucks or motorcycles don't bother them, but a near silent cyclist sends them in a panicked flight response!? They're probably seeing a lot of the former, but few of the latter...

On one hand the scenery doesn't change much and since it's so flat one doesn't see all that much, but on the other hand the fact that there is such wide open space is itself a great experience of being "out there". I'm not quite sure what exactly the attraction is of being out there - but some things don't need to be fully understood in order to be appreciated.

I also start seeing more alligators now, many smaller ones (4-5 feet) but every now and then also a larger one (6-8 feet) which at first could be mistaken for a discarded fragment of a tire. Occasionally a big truck passes, which obviously requires my full attention to stay on the narrow shoulder, but most take a wide birth and the trailing wind push makes up for the noise. Right after the 100km mark I hear a vehicle trailing me for a bit and wonder why it isn't passing me despite very little traffic. Then I realize it is a tractor with some large mowing trailer which isn't driving much faster than I am. As it finally passes, I jump into the slipstream and start cruising effortlessly in the draft behind it.

Quite a stroke of luck, its speed is 37 km/h (23mph), so for the next 20km I roll faster, more comfortable (riding in the middle of the lane is usually smoother than on and off the shoulder) and also safer as there is a following vehicle warning and blocking incoming traffic. (This is why lap 5 on the map above is showing the orange color for higher speed.)

I finally let go of this rare drafting opportunity when I reach the only intersection with Hwy 29, where I stop at a gas station to refuel with gatorade (my super fuel). I'm 1/2 hour ahead of schedule, still relatively fresh and have slight tailwind, it's warm now and sunny, so all is good for now. On this stretch I see the largest alligators soaking up the sun on the banks on other side of the canal.

After another hour or so I see the turn-off to Marco Island. I had considered a detour to see this nice resort town, but in the end I decided against it due to the long distance (including similar beach scenery) still ahead. I stop at a Publix which I had spotted on Google Maps while planning this route. It is noon and I need to eat and drink. I buy a pound of pickles in a jar, a bagel and more gatorade. The pickles and especially their juices keep cramps away, which will certainly be important later today...

After resuming on the increasingly busy 6-lane divided Hwy 41 for a little while I reach Naples. The Tamiami Trail bends sharply to the North, but I continue West as I want to see the beach. I remember this place from many years ago, with nice shops and restaurants, reminding me of similar places in Boca Raton, Palm Beach or Fort Lauderdale.

After a few city blocks the road ends at the Gulf of Mexico.

Always rewarding to see the beach after a long ride (~ 175km at this point). It is a perfect beach day, warm but due to the winter season it's not so hot at midday that one can't stand being out there. It's honestly a bit intimidating to think that I still have a few hours to pedal to even reach the half-way point on today's ride! But from past experience I don't think much about that and simply try to enjoy the road ahead.

The next stretch up North along the West Coast is similar to the East Coast in some ways: Beach, A1A like small first road, large mansions and beach-front properties interspersed with occasional resorts or condominium towers, and the big Interstate highway (here I75, on the East it's I95). I follow some other bikers on the at times windy path between the beach and Hwy 41. Eventually I hop back on Hwy 41. The periodic traffic lights here cause the more heavy traffic to back up and I usually roll past a long line of cars up to the stop line. At one point an impatient driver swerves out of her lane right in front of me to switch to the right-turn lane, not aware of my cyclist presence in the bike lane. I hit the brakes hard and already see myself crashing into the car when at the last moment I manage to just swerve around the back end and avoid a crash. My adrenaline is pumping and I'm briefly mad - both at the driver and myself for not having avoided this risk - but within just a few seconds, it's all over and all good again.

At one of the more frequent red lights I take a picture of my GPS, showing me close to the long-distance pace of 100km every 4 hours.

The adrenaline-inducing incident not withstanding, so far it's going well, a bit too much traffic now, but the scenic highlight is just up ahead with the road hugging the beach for a while between Bonita Beach and Fort Myers Beach. What follows is a study in contrasts - between the scenic beauty of Estero Island on one hand...

... and the utter devastation wrought by Category 4 Hurricane Ian last September. It was the third costliest natural disaster in US history, with damages estimated at $110B (as in Billion or $110,000,000,000). Now more than 4 months into the cleanup effort, there is still a nighttime curfew, piles of debris everywhere, a feeling of ghost town without tourists, shops, restaurants, gas stations, resorts empty and being rebuilt - just weird.

There are boats hundreds of meters inland and large dumps of debris along the road from the many destroyed homes.

The rebuilding effort is in full swing, though. FEMA has established several command centers to help orchestrate first the rescue, then the reconstruction efforts. There are hundreds of pickup trucks from all the contractors and construction noises can be heard everywhere. The only road is backed up for a mile with slow traffic, I roll slowly past the vehicles, careful to avoid debris on the road and possibly opening car doors or other hazards.

In Ft. Myers Beach I stop at the fishing pier and park, with make-shift memorials and the pier still closed to reconstruction.

This is the Western-most point of my route. Climbing over the long bridge back to the mainland I'm reminded of the sheer beauty, but also the raw power of mother nature. Definitely an unusual mix of emotions to see such scenic beauty and massive destruction at the same time.

I can now take advantage of the forecast wind shift to SW, so tailwind again as I'm starting to head back East. (More light green and orange colors on the speed-colored map above in this section.) It's already after 3pm - a bit later than planned due to the slow progress along the beach with frequent stops - but it's a perfect day. As I'm low on drinks and need to recharge my iPhone - don't want to get to a point where the phone runs out of juice - I stop at one of the frequent gas stations. Thankfully there are nice benches and electric outlets, inviting for a nice afternoon break. To my surprise, I'm craving pizza and coke more than coffee and pastry right now.

To bypass Fort Myers town I follow a large parkway I scouted on Google Maps, with decent shoulder and in parts even separate bike lane. I notice the same cars again and again, sprinting ahead on the brief sections of fluid traffic, only to get stuck at the next red light allowing me to catch up again.

The next mental milestone is to reach Hwy 80 just East of Fort Myers at a little place called Tice. From here, I know the road from prior trips like my Coast 2 Coast 24 hour ride2 years ago in March 2021. The shadows are getting longer, and I still have about 40km to get to LaBelle, the place I had planned / hoped to reach before stopping for dinner. There is a lot of traffic here, but I have the sun and the wind at my back, making for good pace with relatively little effort, and there is still some scenic beauty to be found alongside the road.

It's getting close to 6pm, some 12 hours after I started in Miami at the TriRail airport station. So much scenery over these first 300km, so many different impressions, hard to put in words or numbers. Just like the sunrise behind me heading West some 11 hours ago, I now smile at the camera taking a selfie with the sunset behind me heading East.

There aren't many options, but I need some warm food, refill my 3 bottles with drinks and recharge my iPhone (which for some unknown reason had depleted more quickly than usual; I dreaded the thought of running out of battery in the dark in the middle of nowhere and then longer emitting tracking info, not to think of needing to place a call in case of an emergency). So I chose a Popeye's Louisiana-style fast food with fried chicken, rice and beans and lots of lemonade :-)

A beautiful evening sky turns dark outside. At least the near full moon has risen and provides some light and contrast out of town. The next stretch to Clewiston is about 50 km. I broadly know the road, and there is much less traffic now. I know that this part is going to be tough, with full stomach and legs (and butt) tired after 12 hours of riding. Just like on the coast to coast ride 2 years ago, I set myself the mental goal to at least get back to Lake Okeechobee, which is about 80km from LaBelle, so should be doable.

It's hard to get into a good rhythm, and the road or at least the shoulder is surprisingly bumpy here, so I often ride in the right lane, only to move aside onto the shoulder whenever a car approaches from behind (which I see on both the GPS display of the rear radar as well as from the car lights on the road). This repeats many dozens of times, and it's always a bit hectic as I can never be quite 100% sure that the approaching drivers pay attention and see my four blinking taillights - would be hard for them to overlook those, though!

I get to the large intersection with Hwy 27 which is brightly illuminated. From here I know the road quite well due to the many rides around Lake Okeechobee. Finally I pull into Clewiston, which calls itself "America's sweetest town" after all the sugar (cane) industry around here. It's only 9pm when I stop at a gas station, buying just drinking water.

Refueling stops are quite routine on long rides, and thankfully there are many gas stations around, some of them open 24/7 - so one doesn't need to pack too much for the road. At the East end of Clewiston I find the short gravel path back up to the levee around the lake - memories from many years ago tell me where to turn off the main Hwy 80.

It's been years since I rode here due to the Public Works dike restoration project over the last couple of years which had closed the levee to all traffic. But this was completed just a few weeks ago and so there is now a freshly paved single lane road on top of the levee again - a cyclist's dream, especially during daytime offering sweeping views of the lake and the surrounding fields. No views due to the moonlight obscured by some clouds, but also no traffic, so still a decent stretch here.

However, my dream is more of a bad dream right now. Many body parts are aching, I'm tired, eating too much always makes you extra tired and my pace has slowed considerably. At least there is no headwind, the overall flow is still SE, so it helps a bit. Various smells from burning fields or diesel exhaust mix in the night air. At one time I even feel a few rain drops. I have a mini crisis thinking about the remaining distance still in the order of 100km or so.

I pull into one of the two 24/7 gas stations in South Bay and wrestle with what to do next. Somehow I am ready to throw in the towel and call an Uber. I even text my wife that I think I could do another 30-40 km, but not another 90km. I also buy a large coffee marked as extra strong energy (?) - actually the first coffee I'm having since the previous afternoon. Fate intervenes - no Uber driver responds to my request (probably since nobody wants to drive out to South Bay) and the app tells me to try again later! After a pastry and the large coffee I leave the chilly air-conditioned convenience store and step outside into the warm night air. I tell myself that I can do another 40km and try to get to Royal Palm Beach from where I should be able to summon an Uber. Let's see how it goes.

And it goes better than I thought. The caffeine kicks in and the next stretch is both familiar and a very smooth and quiet road; I listen to some nice music and experience the "regression to the mean" in a good sense, i.e. the previous crisis is overcome and I can keep going. My next goal is the intersection with Hwy 98 at the Twenty-Mile Bend near Arden, just West of the Lion Country Safari. Many a long ride has seen me pass by the metal bridge over a canal.

I toyed with the idea of recording a voice snippet about how I feel right there, but then dismiss it as a gimmick. Certainly reminds me of Daniel Kahneman's Experience vs. Memory, which essentially states that how we remember events can be quite different from how we felt at the time when we actually experienced it. I'm pretty sure I'll be quite satisfied when remembering this ride years from now - but I'm also suffering and feeling pretty uncomfortable right now. So there, enough philosophy for today - it also just turned past midnight and also past 400km.

I continue on to Pratt & Whitney road, turning North towards Northlake Blvd. Strangely I almost wish to have a flat tire - something to give me an excuse to call an Uber - but short of a mechanical I just keep on turning those pedals. I actually get a blister in my right palm from the countless times I stand up from the saddle to coast and support myself on the pads of the tri-bar, which despite my bike gloves put a lot of pressure on my hands - that is a first.
Then I turn onto Northlake and somehow I feel that I can manage the remaining hour to get home. A bit of tailwind helps me move along, and it's now 1:30am on a week night, so the roads are practically deserted. A short distance going North connects to PGA Blvd, and then heading East over Turnpike and under I95 towards Palm Beach Gardens. Suddenly I have this thought that I could probably even walk home from here, so will definitely close the loop.

The Divosta Towers on PGA Blvd greet with their illuminated pyramid roofs. During the daytime when passing by in the car I hardly pay attention, but at night they are quite a sight. As I approach the Intracoastal, the bridge is up and I think to myself who in their right mind drives a boat along the Intracoastal at 2:30am causing the bridge to open? The bridge tender probably asks himself who in their right mind rides a bicycle across that bridge at 2:30 in the morning? Little does he know where I come from...

Only one more destination to go, and that is the beach access point at Pelican Lake where I walk our dogs every morning - this is where the road ends, beyond that is only sand and then the Ocean. From Miami over to the Gulf Coast and back to the Atlantic Coast. Happy to have done it - without Uber, without any defects or incidents - another great memory added.

Turns out it's my Top 3 longest ride in Florida and my Top 5 longest ride ever. My bike (and body) is getting quite old by now. Together we have 79 years; I got the bike in 2002 - you do the math ;-) But there is still some adventure left in those old legs and wheels. Here is what ChatGPT composed when I asked it to describe the feelings of an all-day rider in the form of a poem:

The long-distance cyclist rides on,
With tire treads worn and thin,
His heart yearns for new adventures,
And all-day rides to spin.

Through mountains high and valleys low,
He travels far and wide,
With only the open road ahead,
And the wind by his side.

His legs are strong, his will unbroken,
As he pedals on and on,
With each mile that he conquers,
His spirit shines like a dawn.

He dreams of distant horizons,
And roads yet to explore,
For in the endless journey,
He finds what he's been searching for.

So let the cyclist ride on,
With his heart full of fire,
For in the freedom of the road,
His soul will never tire.

[ChatGPT]

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