Live. Love. Bike.

Three slick gals

We were so hot today that we stopped, just twenty miles before Palatka. Sometimes it is just too hot. My rejuvenation drink of choice, when I am OUT, is a chocolate milk. This little store did not have chocolate milk, though there WERE cases and cases of beer. A case of beer is too hard to drink on a bike. ONE beer is not a good idea. And the only gatorade they had was purple. It tasted, well, purple. Not grape.

The best part about the stop was that the clerk was wowed by us.

"You're going WHERE?"
"You started in San DIEGO???!!!"

She was a relative youngster. Her stare went from one of us to another of us to another of us. We were mostly just thirsty and hot and we all had to pee but we answered her questions, in between taking turns to pee ("never pass up a flush toilet" is a truism of a ride with a bunch of women)and allowed her to take our picture.

It IS an amazing thing.

We have ridden our bicycles across the whole bloody, friggin' United States of America for cryin' out loud!

Um.

Today was our last long ride. It was not easy. We had a head wind. Connie ran out of energy. All of our crotches are sore. Jan's legs are tired. I am tired. We're TIRED.

But we're also thrilled. I am thrilled. This is a huge accomplishment. Even if I missed nine miles after I crashed my bike. And even if I missed 23 miles trying to avoid being flung into Oz like Dorothy on tornado day in Lafayette. Even so, this is a huge deal.

Whatever conclusions I ultimately draw over the course of the rest of my life, this has been a gigantic thing to do. Tomorrow we ride into St. Augustine. We have been invited to wear our group jerseys but I am going to wear the one that was made for me for this ride, the one with my shop's name across the front and the Ovarian Cancer National Alliance on one sleeve and the Mission Hospital logo on the other. It has the logo for Women Chefs and Restaurateurs and for Jubilee, my spiritual community. It has the name of the guy who made the jersey. And it also says "Don't Postpone Joy" and, for now, most importantly, "Live. Love. Bike."

Someone suggested I keep writing this even after I get home. Frankly, between you and me, I might not be able to stop just like that. Keeping this going feels comforting to me. Of course it is up to you to check in or not, as you wish.

Anyway - I am getting ahead of myself. First I have to eat and then go to sleep and then wake up and get dressed and ride my bicycle into St. Augustine. Some Chamber of Commerce people are coming. Maybe some chefs. Maybe some cancer survivors. My sisters are coming. And my girlfriend is already here. We're going to celebrate.

Big time.

Tomorrow I'll send you a picture of me and my bicycle and my teal toes and the Atlantic Ocean. Imagine that. Imagine that.

Love to you all,
Laurey

P.S. One of my favorite church signs said (forgive me if I already told you this one) "Never pass up an opportunity to say I love you."

Okay? Okay.

Springs, springs, and more springs

We're in High Springs. Surrounded by a whole bunch of other Springs. All crystal clear. All blue. All world famous. Who knew? I'm in a cafe and the walls are covered with photographs of people diving in these beautiful waters.

We went to one, the one shown here, and yes, it was clear and lovely.

But we're now focused on the end. I'm thinking about home. I'm wondering about this ride. I'm wondering about the now what part. I'm wondering if anyone with ovarian cancer is helped by this thing. My sister wrote and said a friend of hers just died of ovarian cancer. This kind of thing rips me apart. I ride, wonder. Does it make any difference? Is it possible to do something like ride my bike and WISH that it matters? Does it? Sitting here in this bar in High Springs I wonder.

So I don't have a whole lot to say today.

I just wonder.

Two more days of riding. One short day. One long day. Then a day of walking around St. Augustine. Then a day of driving home.

I did not know today would have these springs. I do not know what is going to appear tomorrow. I do not know what will happen in St. Augustine. I do not know how the drive will be. I do not know what will happen when I get home. I do not know anything. Especially today.

And yes, I would like to tell this story to Ellen. My friend Dara, who helps with this blog sometimes, especially when it comes to adding videos and things like that, is the one who put up the Ellen video and the plea to you all to forward it to Ellen. It seems important to me. But I don't know if it is. Maybe it would help people stop dying. Maybe.

Okay - it is still a beautiful day here in High Springs. Come here if you want to see some beautiful water. And come to The Great Outdoors for lunch. The food is very good.

Tomorrow I ride some more.

Hot off the press

Here is a story about Laurey's ride as well as a video. Help Laurey and tweet the link for this video to get Laurey on The Ellen Show. Come on, I know you have it in you...come on you techno whizzes - give us some help. Click HERE for the story.

Leap and the net will appear!

My legs. Yes indeedy.

We spent our rest day at Wakulla Springs. Home to the largest spring in the United States and maybe the fourth largest in the world, the place has a flow of some 400,000 gallons PER MINUTE! Mik, the guide from the first half of our trip said to jump for her. Ah me. If we hadn't, she'd never have know. BUT I am not one to let an invitation like that go unmet so...

The funny thing about the place is that it hasn't changed much since it was built. Irregular cell phone service. No internet service. Funny old rooms, an old-fashioned menu, and boats that have been offering rides up and down the Wakulla River since Mr. Ball created the place. Thank you Mr. Ball! (Makes me especially grateful to anyone with money enough to buy up land and save it for future generations. This is a very good thing to do. We who follow behind thank you.)

The birds and animals are very accustomed to these tour boats and so do not fly away or retreat. This means you can get close enough to a pair of nesting Great White Egrets to see the fluff balls in the next - the babies. And the plentiful alligators blink and move just a little bit when the boat approaches. SO much better than any zoo. It is SO wonderful to see these beings in their home, their real home. And then, to ride outside the park where it immediately becomes filled with litter and roaring cars - well, it brings tears to my heart.

We continue to ride across Florida. Three more days. Three.

Today's ride was flat and straight. I don't think we turned except to get on the main road and, just now, to get off it. I'm talking STRAIGHT. The challenge becomes how to ride comfortably when there is no apparent reason to shift. Same gear. No turning. No hills. No variety.

But, as with all of these sorts of days, beauty resides just one tiny smidgen under the seemingly monotony. Iris live in the Cyprus Bogs. The foliage, if you look, is incredibly varied - palmetto, Cyprus, oaks, Spanish moss and many, many other things. Pines poke up, ferns fill in the scrub. Take a breath, look around - the world opens up.

So, being a short distance from Apalachicola, I'm eating oysters as much as possible. Lunch. Dinner. Breakfast - okay - not so much. I'm happy today, happy to get to see this land that is missed if you drive on the interstates. Missed, too, I'm sure, by drivers on these very roads. The honeysuckle is intoxicating. The musty earth is too.

I cannot believe this is almost done.
Last night, thinking about it, I got very sad. There are good parts to being done, but this has been life-altering. And how do you take this sort of experience, altered, and fold it into what already is? I am not sure. But tomorrow I'll ride some more and think about just that.

Ciao,
Laurey

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning...

This is my new favorite activity. I love tinkering, tweaking, adjusting. I have gone from knowing very little about this machine, to feeling quite competent. As I told you, the other day I had to get a major adjustment, a whole new derailleur cable. This was residue from my bike crash back in Navasota. Well, the bike mechanic told me that the cable would stretch in a few days and that I would need to get it fixed because it would cease to shift smoothly.

We're not near a bike shop in this run of the trip, so I, getting a hint of what to do from one of the guides, fixed it myself! Go me!

And then Jan, today, was having some trouble with HER derailleur and I fixed IT too! (She currently thinks I'm a mechanical wizard, which is a stretch, but it is true that she needed help, I gave it to her, and my help fixed her problem. Go me! (I wouldn't normally say this so much, but it is a real delight to have the confidence to plunge in and fix little problems.)

After Jan gushed to me, my whole day changed today. Before that I was just, well, riding, wondering what might pop up to catch my interest. I was enjoying the scenery, the Cypress Bogs (thanks for telling me about them) and humming songs (thanks for all the Florida song hints.) I was, as usual, musing about how and if my life has changed as a result of this ride.

And then Jan had that problem and I fixed it and she thanked me. It felt so good. So good. So simple and good.

Sometimes something doesn't have to be complicated to make a difference. A simple thank you made a huge difference to me today. A simple feeling of competence made a huge difference to me today. Simple stuff. Simple lessons.

Tomorrow we ride a short distance to a place that has clear waters in a natural spring. I have never been there before but the name, Wakulla Springs, is alluring. We ride in, spend a whole day there, and ride out. I'll tell you as much as I can. I am meeting some Chamber of Commerce people so I'll get the lowdown and, probably, will tell you to come visit too. Heck, I love water and I might not want to leave. Actually, no, I am ready to see my home and my town and my friends. But that's not to say I won't come back.

Pretty soon, y'all. Pretty soon.

For now - cheers,
Laurey

Riding through Florida