I'm in Florida!!!!!!!

Made it. Rode my bicycle all the way to Florida. FLORIDA!

Chased by sharks and massacred by ferry-hovering mosquitoes, we managed to escape from the allure of Dauphin Island and the Alabama coast early this morning. It is REALLY beautiful here (there.)

We crossed into Florida at mile 27, I think. WHAT a change. Actually, I messed up my odometer yesterday by trying to reset it. BIG mistake. It was saying we were going 6 miles an hour and, when Connie's said we had ridden for 20 miles, mine was saying we'd gone 5. Ugh. I rely on the thing because our ride cue sheets are all based on mileage. And Connie relies on ME so much that she never even consults her cue sheet (which is fine with me, I like paying attention in this way.)

Also, I have been having some trouble with my derailler since my arm warmer crash. It has been getting worse and worse and today I could only ride in a few gears without having the unpleasant grinding noise of my chain rubbing against my front derailleur. I got myself into quite a snit about the two things. I KNEW we were getting to bike shop - at mile 55 - but could NOT let the stupid annoyance about the grinding and the odometer go.

I made my threesome stop twice and I tried to fix it but it just wasn't having any of it. We DID stop for a fine lunch of fried oysters and shrimp at mile 41 and I called home (go Liberty Bikes!) and Ben told me how to fix it. Whew! And then 14 miles later, we DID get to the bike shop and the mechanic removed my old, almost-completely-frayed cable, replaced it, and sent me on my way. 10 minutes - MAX. $18.00. Wow!

And then, I got to be a momentary celebrity. The Asheville paper is doing a story on me and the ride and the writer lives here. We met yesterday but the photographer caught up with us this afternoon as we rode into Pensacola. What a riot!!! He sat in the back of a truck while his driver navigated. He snapped a WHOLE lot of photographs. A LOT. And he had me ride way back and up close and next to the truck and he snapped and snapped and snapped and it was a total gas. Connie and Jan and I rode and laughed and he snapped away. It was really fun. Really. I think the article will be in the paper this week. If you live in Asheville, keep an eye out. And if you don't I'll let you know and maybe my friend Dara the computer genius will link it up here.

Anyway - it's truly amazing to be in Florida with my red Trek and my teal toes and my banged up body. We're almost done. 9 more days of riding. Flat days. Days of sun and wind and some more adventures, I'd guess.

I'll be in touch tomorrow from Crestview - hot spot of Florida.
Cheers,
Laurey

A Video from Laurey

We were unable to find the embed code on the video so here a link to a video from Laurey to you. http://sharing.theflip.com/session/079ba3f5e076d3633117faf48887ca02/video/3852709

Teal Toes go to Florida

,

I took advantage of our day off to redo my toes. They were looking a little shabby and, well, we're in the homestretch now and I'll need to be showing my toes off a bit more SO I got some toenail polish remover from Connie and reapplied the beauty.

I met six hilarious folks from Kentucky who are here on Dauphin Island for a vacation. We had a nice visit on the day we all got here and so, by yesterday, we were buddies. A reporter from Pensacola came to meet up with me and the six of them heckled in the distance, politely. No need to take any of this too seriously, right? After the reporter left the six brought me beer and wild drinks they had concocted in their condominium blender. And after that it seemed fine for me to reveal my toes and borrow Sharon's new, perfectly matched flip flops. I mean - PERFECT! Darvin and Freida and Helen and Mike and Bob. Very nice people. Very.

Teal, as you must know by now, it the ovarian cancer color. Don't you think this would be a fine poster? I do!

Today we're off, out of Alabama, over Mobile Bay on a ferry, and on to Florida. FLORIDA y'all!
Ten more days. TEN. Pensacola. Crestview. Quincy. Wakulla Springs. Perry. High Springs. Palatka. St. Augustine.

Asheville.

Some more biking. Some more thinking. And then home, where this journey started and, now, where it will really, truly - begin.

I'll tell you some more later on today.

Laurey

21 riders, 58 days from ocean to ocean

I thought you might enjoy this write up on our bike ride.


http://www.hammondstar.com/articles/2009/04/19/top_stories/8989.txt

At the Gulf of Mexico

We're on the Gulf!

Rode into Alabama earlier this morning and wasted no time getting right to the Shrimp! We're now on Dauphin Island, the first place that migrating birds reach when they fly north from South America. Bird watching is a big deal here. The gang is planning an early morning excursion tomorrow. I'll see. I might join in or I might sleep in.

Our accommodations are pretty swank. We're at The Dauphin Island Beach Club. I have been assigned a King Sized bed and it turns out to be the Master Suite. Gigantic bathroom, huge bed, private entrance to the pool and really easy access to the beach. I can look out the window (the huge window) in my room and see dunes and then, just beyond, the Gulf. Right now the waves are big, pounding and roaring. There are storms around and, though we missed riding in the rain (I TOLD them so), the recent atmospheric upset has caused the waters to be pretty active. I might try body surfing. Or beach walking. Or both.

Riding today was a breeze. 42 miles miles is really nothing. Just enough to get the muscles moving and the blood flowing. Just enough to get a little further East on this trip, this constant movement East. East. East. Here we go. Still.

An interesting thing about endurance is that it takes a lot to keep it up. Today everyone seemed really cranky. We've now been together enough that the politeness has left. People spout out whatever they think. The filters are gone. And the sore parts that some people have are flaring up to be worse than annoyances. Some people are limping. Ice packs are used in abundance. When we crested the last peak it seemed like the hardest part was done. I remember going over Emory Pass and thinking, "well it's all downhill now."

Not so.

Endurance means sticking with it. Even now. Even now when the mileage is not daunting and and the terrain is, actually, to some, monotonous. This, really, is the hard part. This sticking to the plan is tricky. CAN I find beauty in this landscape? CAN I be nice when I feel annoyed? CAN I rise above the discomfort? Can I continue to find the lessons, the inspiration, the reason when I am surrounded by grumpiness? So far I can. I'm finding solace inside, inside myself, where the message of what I am doing and why I am doing it resides.

And I'm happy to have a day of quiet on a beach on the Gulf of Mexico. I cannot believe I got here on my bicycle. From San Diego. And that when I leave I will go to Florida for the final stretch. I met a woman today at the store (buying postcards) and she was amazed and stunned. I forget that this IS amazing and stunning. It's good to run into amazed people. It reminds me.

Say - if you don't mind, I have a request:
I really want to go on the Ellen (deGeneres) show so that I can talk about this bike ride and what it has meant to me to be a 20 year ovarian cancer survivor doing this project. So, if it's not too much to ask, and you are so inclined, maybe you could write her a note and tell you think it'd be a good idea for her to have me on as a guest. (Go to Ellen.com). And if you know anyone who knows anyone who has any pull with NBC or Ellen - and you don't mind - maybe you could mention this to them. The ride ends on April 30 and so time is of the essence. Though, come to think of it, September is ovarian cancer awareness month so that'd be a good time too.

Thanks. Thank you for everything.
I'll send you a picture of the beach tomorrow.

Until then,
Cheers,
Laurey

When in doubt

Today was another easy one. And maybe I am getting used to this, or maybe it's the short distance (68 miles) and the flatness (very flat) and today's relatively smooth roads (mostly "BUTTER!!!"), but I'm just not ravenously hungry like I was at the beginning. Still, the sight of the SAG vehicle makes all of us cavort and chortle and exclaim.

"SAG!"

We are still able to eat anything we want: doritos, orange wedges, fig newtons, apple slices, chocolate milk, and potato chips - not to mention the last bite of yesterday's biker bar and the remains of yesterday's peanut butter and raisin sandwich. I actually ate that exact snack today. When energy sags, put more stuff in.

It works. Today's ride was into the wind but it seemed just fine. I discovered that if you take it easy, the wind is less oppressive. I've been trying to figure this out. One might think that riding harder would mean that you get done earlier, hence the day is over faster, hence that's a good thing. Turns out not to be so - at least for me.

Today my foursome turned into a threesome. Jan, Connie and I rode together, agreeing to take it a bit easier. Jan was feeling sluggish today. Connie was chipper, happy to have had her massage yesterday (given BY Jan, not TO Jan - sorry about the lack of good editing in yesterday's note). I was, well, feeling just fine.

Threats of rain (in the various internet forecasts) turned out to be just threats, which I had decided not to pay attention to anyway. I sniffed the air this morning and decided to leave my rain jacket in the SAG vehicle - just in case. (Remember, I go with the 80% chance of NO rain). And, indeed, there was no rain. No worries. It did get windy toward the end of the ride but we slowed down and I tried to just let go and not fight it. It worked! Less effort, less stress, much more comfort, much less exhaustion. We rolled in about 1/2 hour behind the front runners who we found in the lobby, waiting to check in. Hmmm....glad we didn't rush.

We are much closer to the Gulf now. As usual we are in a motel near a highway so we can't really see much of anything. But I just checked the map and yes, we are near water. We crossed over a big bridge to get here and saw boats and boating things and the air is salty and moist. Tomorrow we continue, hugging the coast and moving into Alabama. We'll spend the next couple of days at Dauphin Island. A day on the beach. A day to review some more.

I'll let you know how that turns out when the times comes.
Thanks for being a part of this journey with me.
Laurey

Riding into Mississippi

Nothing snazzy about today.

60 miles.
Green, green, green. More green.
Water, water, water. More water.

Rough roads.
Rough roads.
More rough roads.

And then - BUTTER! (smooth roads).

We were teased. Rough roads were punctuated by smooth so we came up with a new road nomenclature.

"Pat of butter" (a tiny section of smoothness)
"Stick of butter" (1/4 mile or so of smoothness)
"Pound of butter" (a longer stretch)
"Case of butter!!!" (can't see the end of the smooth section)

This is what we do on a day of medium length and marginal difficulty.

60 miles is now nothing. Hardly worth a note. Today's forecast suggested wind and rain, but not until later in the afternoon. 20% chance of rain, the report warned. To me, that meant 80% chance of no rain. Winds might get to 20 mph. Or they might not. It didn't rain. The wind was never a problem. Lessons learned for later. Why worry? It might NOT do the thing that scares you.

Four of us started out together. Jan was worried about dogs. Sherry was worried about the rain. Connie was tired. I, well, I wasn't worried or tired. When we encountered dogs Jan learned how to use her whistle - very effectively, it turns out - and she is not worried about dogs anymore. Sherry took off, hoping to beat the rain. Connie poked along with me and Jan is going to have a massage later and that will make her feel better. At lunch after today's ride Sherry was talking about tomorrow's forecast already and is going to try to get going early and to ride really fast to try to beat the rain - again.

Not me. I'll take what comes. Makes it that much more interesting. I mean, if it was all a breeze, well, where's the texture in that? I'll take the bumps and the rain and, yes, even the wind. If it rains I'll get wet. Or I'll have another story to tell. Or it will be a chance to think about how I'm on my bike and not in a hospital. It'll all be fine. It is right now, after all.

Okey doke. I'll jot a note tomorrow from Pascagoula, Mississippi. (Aren't these names fun?)