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I have never stayed at a hotel that didn't gladly oblige if I asked for rag to clean off
the bike; many will offer a bucket full of rags given it's in their best interest that
people not use the good towels in the rooms. Anyway, after cleaning the multi-layers
of bugs off my windshield and lights this morning I jumped on I-95, which was only a few
miles from the hotel. I think the last time I was on an interstate was almost 900
miles ago in PA..... I stated at the onset of this ride that I wanted to take the road
less traveled so this fact is very rewarding to me. Within 20 miles on I-95 South
I left South Carolina and crossed the Georgia state line. The signage here is
noteworthy for two reasons. One, SC gets my vote for the best “exit” sign, an
impressive and classy brick “Thanks For Visiting South Carolina” marker with both the US
& SC flag surrounding it. Some states don't have any “Goodbye” signs. Secondly,
the mind readers in Georgia who erected the “Welcome to Georgia, We're Glad Georgia's On
Your Mind” sign got it all wrong since my mind is on one thing: Key Lime pie! That's
the real reason for riding 7,800 miles ya know.
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The slab ride through GA was with very little congestion given it was Saturday. My
explanation for the lack of traffic is that I was passing through SEC Football land and
people that live in this region live 365 days a year for Saturday's during college
football season. So, everyone was probably at home watching the game was my
guess. Just before leaving Georgia I exited to obtain another stamp at the
Cumberland Islands National Seashore near St.Mary's, GA, a place the Matriarch wants to
visit (though not on a motorcycle):
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Exactly 183 miles after starting up my motorcycle today I saw THE sign... “Welcome to
Florida” which I translated as "Your Pie Is Very Near".
What happened just after I crossed the line is just as memorable. I pulled
over to the side of the road since I had something in my eye that felt like sand or
maybe just a large rock. Once stopped I flushed my eye then took a phone call
but decided that the Rest Area up ahead would be a better place to complete the
call. I left the key to the Givi bag sticking in the lock because the GPS said
the Rest Area was less than a mile ahead and rather than risk the key blowing out of
my hands onto a busy road (sometimes I learn from mistakes) I just left it in the
bag. I merged back on I-95 and did so with a FL State Trooper (pronounced
“true-pa” to some) not far behind. He quickly passed me, then quickly slowed
down, then moved behind me. Sure enough here comes the light show, so I pull
over. Oh, in case you're wondering, my lifetime grand whopping total number of
tickets (aka “Performance Awards”) on a motorcycle is: ZERO. Yes, nada. Since
I wasn't speeding I had no real guess what his issue was but I was hoping it was something
like he was a Stromtrooper and just wanted to say hi! I flipped my helmet up as
he approached in a non-defensive gait and hear “Ma'am you left your key in that
bag.” 
I got the key, thanked him for his keen eyesight and was ready to continue on when
the questions started spewing. Oh, geez, you gotta be kidding me is all I kept
thinking. Maybe I'll ask him when he comes through Phoenix on his way to the Grand
Canyon next year if he really stopped me to tell me about the key or just to ask me about
the pros/cons of touring on the Suzuki V-Strom DL1000.
I left Mr. Florida Friendly Trooper and decided to forgo the Rest Area and the phone call
and get to the next stamp, which happened to be the last state stamp (FL) I needed to
satisfy the requirements for the Silver Master Traveler Award for the IBA. Yipee!
(I now just need AK for the “Gold”). I decided to go to “Timucuan Ecological &
National Historic Preserve” near Jacksonville for my first FL stamp. Timucuan Preserve
is one of the last unspoiled coastal wetlands on the Atlantic Coast and unbeknown to me
required riding 2-3 miles down a sand/gravel road to obtain. Not just any sand/gravel
road though, this was like going thru the jungle or something. Unbelievable! I
kept thinking at any minute Tarzan would be swinging across my path. Actually as I rode
I was trying to think of what critter or creature could possibly spring from the heavy brush
into my path but I was coming up blank beyond the Fruit Loops Toucan bird!
Even with such extraordinary beauty I'd be willing to bet most riders in the vicinity
don't even know this place exists. If you decide to visit one day I'd HIGHLY suggest
insect repellent be the first thing you pack. The size of these things here would be
considered a small bird in other states!
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Nearby is the “Kingsley Plantation” (GPS coordinates: N30°26.356', W81°26.259') which is
an area that depicts life on a nineteenth-century Florida plantation. Yeah, I know, the
thought likely induces sheer and utter excitement in you too. I obtained the stamp in
the Visitor's Center but did not tour the entire plantation. Nonetheless, I bet I could
sum up life on the plantation: Fighting off mosquitoes.
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I left Timucuan then took a scenic ride over to Fort Caroline National Monument
(GPS coordinates: N30°22.976', W81°29.818') which memorializes the short-lived
French presence in sixteenth century Florida:
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This gives you an idea where these places I visited today are located:
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After picking up these stamps I decided to hit the infamous “A1A Scenic & Historic Coastal
Byway,” which runs along the coast and also incorporates part of the “Great Florida Birding
Trail.” If you'd like to see on a map the A1A route
Click Here
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If you're a “see-and-be-seen” traveler than this is your road. If you like spending
as much time at red lights as you do actually traveling then definitely put A1A in your
itinerary. I, on the other hand, detest both, so after about 50 miles and a beautiful
sunset I hit the I-95 slab again.
I was still shocked at the lack of traffic (my SEC football theory is looking good) but
even more so with what happened later on I-95. There are sections of I-95 that are
rather desolate with exits few and far between (as hard as that may be to believe). I
was in one of these long stretches and about a mile ahead of me I saw a car in the median
with headlights on and assumed it was a State Trooper. The closer I got to the lights
the more the direction of the lights and position of the car seemed very odd to me. Even
closer, I saw it was not a LEO ("Law Enforcement Officer" for those who don't have their
moto-slang translation book handy) rather it was a car that had gone off the road. I
pulled to the shoulder and discovered 2 unhurt drunk guys wandering around the car, which
was half in the sugar cane looking bushes (hey, it was dark ya know). I'm not sure
they knew they were in a wreck so I didn't ask if they'd called the police and did so
myself.
The conversation with the dispatcher was shocking. Simply ridiculous. She
asked for the location of the accident and I said I didn't know the address but that I
could give her the exact GPS location. The response was “We can't use that, what mile
marker did you last pass?” I'm thinking if a study was conducted and every passing
car was stopped and asked what mile marker they last passed I'm willing to bet the VAST
majority of people wouldn't have a clue. Me included. I looked at the GPS and
tried to access information but could only give her approximates. I gave her nearby
points of interests and even that “County Road 4118” was showing just north and looked to
cross over 95. “We don't show county roads, what county are you in?” I reiterated
I was not from FL and she reiterated that she needed the exact location of the accident.
So, I hung up my phone (that'd be the GPS enabled phone that is supposed to tell
dispatchers where you're located!) and called a friend in TN (yes, several states away)
who has access to my GPS tracking and asked him if he could kindly give ME the exact
distance of the nearest mile marker to MY location (I know, how crazy is that?!). I
can't imagine what it must have been like to answer such a weird call but he was indeed
able to tell me the answer. So, I call Florida 911 back and give them the
information. They were able to dispatch the call and I continued on. If you want
to mark in your GPS under “where-to-avoid-the-need-for-911-services” here are the GPS
coordinates I saved while on location in my Garmin GPS: N29°02.703', W81°00.428'
(Webmaster Note: Since I am the friend in TN that she called let me just say that at some
point you learn to never be surprised with AGirl's phone calls.
You learn to just ride with them, and then ask yourself later whether you just
imagined that or not! This is a special person that I have a lot of respect and
admiration for, and getting a call late in the evening asking, "Uh, can you tell me
where I am?" just doesn't rate high on the surprise scale any longer.
The temperature felt so good that I probably could have ridden all night and on into
Key West! But given I had made plans a few hours before with Stromtrooper
“mnparadise” to meet tomorrow morning I pulled off and stayed in Boynton Beach. Upon
check in I was asked “Would you like any rags to use on your bike?” and kindly accepted
the offer to remove at least the first few layers of lovebug guts off the windscreen.
As I write this report I'm thinking that in less than 24 hours I'll be eating Key Lime
pie! WA-HOO!!!!
AGirl
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