Day 51: Stretched to the Limit

Destin (Miramar Beach) to Mexico Beach

7I miles 828 feet of climb

We left the warm embrace of the Comfort Inn and hit the road for a long, 76 mile day that started on our old friend Highway 98. There was a bike lane for part of it, but there were places where there was no lane which pushed us into heavy morning traffic. There was also periodic pockets of construction. That didn't help either. Fortunately, there was a bike path, but that represented its own challenges. We were moving along the coast from beach area to beach area.

We went through Santa Rosa Beach, Seaside, and Seagrove Beach. We were on the Tipoche Trail through Deer Lake State Park and on to Aly's Beach. The trail was very bumpy, apparently with tree roots running under the asphalt which was causing lumps and cracks. The alternative was to ride in the road which had no shoulder or bike lane. Early on, I had low pressure in my rear wheel, but a quick stop at a bike rental place and the loan of a floor bike pump solved the issue. I was afraid I had a slow leak and was nervous about having a flat at the most inconvenient place possible. No further tire problems for the rest of the day.

As we went from beach area to beach area, there was more foot traffic on the trail and more people riding single speed beach bikes, often looking half scared to be on a bike. It became easier, faster, and less frustrating to deal with the increasing traffic on the road than to continually ring my handlebar bell and shout "On you left!" to people wearing ear buds and clearly oblivious. I surprised a couple of older women who heard my bell, but did not turn around. One exclaimed "I thought someone dropped some money! I never dreamed it was a bike!" Tourists.

James and I stopped at a convenient bakery and took a break enjoying chocolate croissants. We hit the road again, enjoying a brief lull in the traffic. More beaches: Hollywood, Sunnyside, Laguna Beach, Gulf Resort Beach, Open Sands, Florida Beach.....

The area we were traversing, from Destin to Panama City has been called "The Redneck Rivera," and "The Hampton for the poor," though the area is fast being redeveloped and prefers the moniker the "Emerald Coast." The redevelopment has led to areas of posh, upscale resorts and condominiums standing side by side with resorts from the '50s and '60s which look a little tired and tatty.

The route took us onto a very busy road with no shoulder and then back onto HW 98, which had about a three ft shoulder and cars that were unwilling to swerve at all to give us some room. One bridge we were routed onto had no bike lane and no room between the white line of the lane and the rise to a knee wall at the side of the bridge. James and I waited for a break in the traffic before we started to climb up onto the bridge. Cars were generally good about slowing down and moving over for us, but as we crested, three double rear wheeled pickups in a row shot by us without moving over at all and missing us by inches. Traffic became even heavier as we approached Panama City. The sides of the road were lined with all kinds of kitchy souvenir shops, cutesy apparel stores and had the look and feel of a carnival midway. It was the worst kind of tourist trap/resort area. Interspersed with this were high rise resorts and condo buildings. Clearly an area in transition and not necessarily for the better, in my opinion.

For a while we took to a wide sidewalk parallel to our road route. However, all of the phone poles and street lights were in the path and we had to swerve around each, slowing us down. The sidewalk had offset street curb cuts which meant we had to make very sharp, short turns to get across each intersection. I remained unclipped through all of this (normally my shoes are clipped in (attached) to my pedals), though as a consequence, my right foot slipped off the pedal at one intersection and I gashed my heel. I carry bandages and Polysporin on my bike, though I didn't realize I was bleeding right away, I was focused on what was coming in front of me. As we approached the central part of Panama City, there was a bike/tram lane which was wide and certainly reduced our stress. Once again we were routed back onto HW98 in a construction area with even narrower lanes and no shoulder. Again, traffic was a nightmare. I've never ridden like this in my life and I found myself making moves on my bike I never would have attempted at home.

Finally, our GPS routed us through an older, residential section where the city seemed almost normal. It was a real relief. James and I spotted a little local establishment, Capt. Hal's Seafood Market, which had carry out seafood. It seems in this resort area all of the seafood places were Capt. something: Jack, Bob, Roy, Willy, or something. James and I had a lunch of peel and eat boiled shrimp and potato wedges that couldn't have been better. It was the best shrimp we'd had since our night in Oberlin, LA. We sat in the shade on the sidewalk at the side of the building and made a complete mess peeling and eating the shrimp. It was great. Note our sun sleeves.

We had been battling a growing headwind all day and once we were out of town and on the final 22 mile stretch, it grew stronger. The road was flat, which was helpful, but the final 20 miles were worse than the first 51. We were on the shoulder of a busy road with the gulf over a rise of sand dunes on one side and Tyndall Air Force Base on the other. There was nothing to break the strength of the wind. It was all open. Jets were taking off. We could hear them, but we could not see them. We were too busy fighting the wind and traffic. All of the trees along the gulf side of the road were all stripped of their branches except for a few at the tree tops. I later learned that this area was hit by a major hurricane in 2018 and suffered major damage, including at the RV park we were staying at for our layover day. As I am writing this, I am sitting in what is called a Tiki Bar here at the RV park, but the decor doesn't match the theme.

The ride seemed to grind on forever. It was hard to maintain a reasonable pace and push against the wind. In my head, I started to countdown the miles, then the tenths of miles, and finally how long it took us to travel from one phone pole to the next. Endlessly.

We finally arrived at Mexico Beach RV Resort which also showed scars from Hurricane Michael, a 2018 category 5 storm. It was in the middle of nowhere and was desolate. Everyone was grousing about the lack of any restaurants, coffee shops or even a close convenience store. Someone even yearned for a Dollar General. At least it would have been something. Public beach access was about two miles away. No one except Kathy felt like riding over to the beach.

James received a big package from a RAGBRAI friend, a big box of Omaha steaks and sides for a meal. Trouble was, we had no oven or anything except our big camp stove for cooking.

Tom and I were on deck for the meals on our rest day and we incorporated James's goodie box into our meal plans. Thanks Nomi!