Day 6: Demons

Let’s talk about Demons for a quick second.  I’m not talking about any sort of the “Other” external-type demons that you find in pretty much all the world’s mythologies.  I’m talking about the demons that speak softly with your voice.  The motherfuckers who sound so logical.  The ones that eat at your resolve in small ways.  I’ve found that the best way to tell the difference between their voices and yours is to speak the words aloud.  I forgot to do this for the first hour of day 6

When I woke up, there was one particular voice saying one particular thing in my head.  “I can’t have another day like yesterday.  No more traffic.  No more stoplights”.  I got up and went through the motions of breakfast and camp cleaning.  I took a quick video of my thoughts but I can’t seem to find it out now. The first words in the video were “Its day 6 and I’m trying very hard not to be a pussy.”  If I remember correctly, the rest of the video was just about how tired I was…bla bla bla.

As I’m packing up, an older guy comes over to ask if everything in camp would go back on the bike.  I just laughed and said that yes, everything fits after some work.  We talked for a few minutes about the process and where I’d been.  He lived in Dunellon and was a retired part time RV’er.  He asked about my route for the day.  I told him everything.  The fatigue, the traffic and how I was planning on just grabbing I-10 down to Dunellon.

He said “Well, you could do that but let me go get a map real quick”.

He came back a few minutes later with a road map and showed me the route that I had pretty much planned on taking when I started the trip.

He talked about sticking to the coast and how I would have to end up on the freeway eventually anyway because there are no coastal roads after the panhandle.  I decided then and there to take his route and stay on the coast.  I’m horrified that I almost missed this amazing stretch of road.

So out 98 I went. I was only an hour into the ride when I heard the unmistakable sound of military jet engines on my left.  I killed the throttle and looked left just as I came into a clearing of trees.  I watched an F-22 go from a standstill to vertically airborne in seconds.    I have tried repeatedly to put the experience into words but I can’t seem to do it. At the end of this post I included a quick daydream session to capture the feeling.

www.deviantart.com through google images

The country I’m from created that machine and the pilot in it.  I might have missed that had I listened to the demons. Lesson learned.

Further along the coast there were beautiful beach towns and great views of the coast.

Credit: Google Maps

This was my view when I stopped to get gas.

This is the coast that I dreamed of.  I made the turn from south to east into Saint Vincent Sound.  The road was wooded on both sides but every once in awhile you would get this view:

And then, the John Gorrie Memorial bridge.  Just, damn… 

Credit: Google Maps

The picture does not do it justice at all.

Eventually I grudgingly made the turn north at Bald Point State Park.  It was mostly treelined farm to market roads up through northern Florida and then down to Dunnelon. 

I did stop at an interesting restaurant though. Deals Oyster House in Perry.  The food was fantastic but the owners have a strange custom.  When someone walks in the door they say (unfailingly) “Welcome to Deals, the finest people walk through that door”.  When someone leaves they say (unfailingly) “Thanks for coming to Deals, the finest people walk out that door”.

The food was extremely good and the service was fantastic.  I couldn't shake the greeting though.  Every time they said it all I heard was “the finest people walk through that door….for the last time.”  I felt guilty about this because everyone seemed so nice and professional.  The greeting just really threw me off.

I made my way through Dunellon at about 7:00 local time. Rainbow Springs state park was just outside the city proper.

A word to Florida State Parks: You’re doing it right.

The campsite was amazing, the park was beautiful and the park ranger in the office was very polite.  I dropped my gear at the campsite and raced the fading daylight for some pictures.

For my Texan readers, Rainbow Springs and Dunellon reminded me of New Braunfels.  There is tubing and the river here is clear, cold and gentle.

More importantly there were really good washing machines in the bathroom area. Washing my clothes felt very luxurious.  With a clean bag of clothes, calls made to Julie and the kids, I watched a movie on my laptop and crashed out.  Tomorrow would be as tough as the Galveston to New Orleans ride.  Dunellon, all the way to Key Largo with a stop at the Miami airport (always a treat) to check on the Truck and trailer.

So much can change in a day of long distance travel.  And to think, I almost took I-10.

I'll leave you with storytime...I had this cool daydream after the F-22 thing at Tyndall.  Here it is…

A couple on a big black BMW Sport-Touring bike pull over to the side of the road. They get off the bike and start removing helmets and riding gear.  The air is clear and crisp with the faint smell of grass and south Florida pine forest. 

On one side of the road there are tall Georgia pines on the other side, a long airfield runway runs to a point in the distance. 2 F22’s line up to do run-up checks and wait for ATC clearance to take off.

The woman leans against the bike seat and asks, “Is that her?”.

He hears the edge in her voice and puts his arm around her.

“I think so.  The time is right but I don’t think we’ll know for sure until she takes off.  Three dips, left wing, 8 seconds after take-off”

“Okay.  I’m not sure I want to be here.” She said.

“It’s not her first flight hon.  ...only a couple of more weeks of training”

“Still, seeing her do it…makes it real”

“I get it.” He said

The engines get a little louder.

“Here she goes”, he shouts.

She smiles, “You’re sure it’s her”.

“It’s her. Here they go”, he said.

The fighters throttle up to a deafening roar and almost immediately leave the ground.

“6 one thousand, 7 one thousand, 8 one thousand”

The fighter on the left dips it’s wing 3 times in quick succession.

Tears run down the man’s face as he laughs.

“That was her, did you see it”, he asked.

“Yes, that was her” Her voice was low and steady. “I am ready to go now”

“Can you drive for awhile?  I’m too shaky.” He said.

“Sure”, She said.

They slip back into riding gear and helmets.  The woman climbs onto the driver seat and adjusts the mirror. 

She starts the bike, picks it up and motions for the man to climb on.  He does so.  Before they leave, he pulls out his phone and sends a three-word text “You are amazing.”