The Keys Day 3: Turn the (tailwind) around

This morning, Willard spent a good amount of time attempting to fix his trailer hitch, to no avail...although, I have to admit, I was highly entertained by the amount of duct tape and the number of zipties used in the whole operation. In the picture to the left, you can see that Willard's trailer is so heavy that it lifts up his bike. At 11:30, after Alan had thrown a wrench in the road, the beast was declared dead.

The revised plan called for Willard to ride a century while Alan and I would aim for Marathon's campground - we two would have our gear, since Willard was forced to leave his stuff behind in Key West. What we did not factor in our plans was the headwind, which we realized very quickly would make things much more challenging. We could see Willard in front of us, just about until we stopped for lunch at Baby's Cafe. Alan and I kept a similar pace all day. He's an incredibly strong rider - his "trainer" was Little Debbie - and he would easily have outdistanced me except that he carried 25 more pounds on his bike (including an extra fleece blanket that I needed because my fleece liner-turned-sleeping bag was essentially useless).

We muddled along, taking one side trip that resulted in a flat tire on his bike - it went from an old paved road to a well-traveled dirt path to a narrow deer trail before petering into something barely followable. I also had a flat, which Alan fixed for me (this annoyed me. I am exceptionally bad at letting people (guys) do stuff for me, especially when it's something I can do on my own, like open doors, or change bike tires. Even if Alan IS better at it than I am). At any rate, I learned a better way to pump up a tire with a hand pump so that the valve stem doesn't get sheared off, so I GUESS I'm glad he was there, because otherwise I'd have gone through another tube or two. At some point, I should figure out the line between independence and arrogance. For me, perhaps, easier said than done.

We reached the small convenience store before the Seven Mile Bridge rather in poor spirits. I had been SURE that there would be a grocery store right around the bend from the time we left Big Pine Key...but I had placed it wrong in my memory, and it was in Marathon. We snacked on the meager portions I had left in my food bag - some Clif bars and cheese. Still, the Shell station had ice cream in pint containers, potato chips, and Gatorade.

Then, Seven Mile Bridge.

Alan had said several times during the snack break that I didn't have to wait for him (I'm not a big fan of riding in the dark). I'm glad I did, though. Neither of us had rear lights, only front ones. It was dusk when we started, and with the headwind, we'd been averaging 8-9 miles per hour at best. You can do the math - there was no way we'd make it across. He rode point while I took the rear, my headlamp on blinky mode, wrapped around the hiking pole sticking out of my pack so that we had some visibility to the traffic coming from behind.

The one cool thing that happened on the bridge...with the complete darkness - no overhead lights, no cities for three miles to either side of us - we were able to see glow-in-the-dark jelly fish in the water...thousands of them all pulsing below us. It was VERY neat!

Overall, those 50 miles were probably the toughest miles I've ever ridden, with the dark, the relentless headwind, the 18 wheelers buzzing us on the left...plus having virtually run out of fuel, and, had Alan not had a conversation with two German tourists, we'd have run out of water, too.

Having had enough of the traffic, we crossed the street to the bike path. Although it was under construction, the trail's relative peace was a welcome relief, outweighing the ruts. Oh yeah, and who should we run into but Mr. Monologue himself. Not wanting to have a repeat performance from two nights ago, I did my best starving cyclist impression. "If I don't eat something really soon, I'm going to pass out," I announced with more than a hint of desperation. Our friend took the hint and quickly released us to the Publix. That grocery store outside Marathon was the best ever. We restocked supplies, bought some cereal and rice milk for the morning, and most importantly, a Key Lime pie.

Got back into camp...when I pulled the shopping bag off my bike, Willard said, voice trembling with awe and appreciation, "You brought...pie?!?" The three of us proceeded to devour it, down to the last bite. Then, I made Tuna Noodle Alfredo on my soda can stove, and we feasted on that, also. Needless to say, Willard had been sitting in Key Marathon for quite some time, cold because he'd left all his gear in Key West.