Valdosta, Georgia - Jasper, Florida
Saturday, October 26, 1996
A day of braces and the final State
Time out: 9:00 AM.
When I arrived at the motel in Valdosta last night and went 
to
put my hand brace on, I couldn't find it. I have a "trigger finger"
(a carpel tunnel problem) on the little finger of my right hand and wear
the brace whenever I'm off the bicycle. On the bike, my hand can't close
due to the handlebar, so I don't have any problem. The brace was custom-made
for me by a hospital occupational therapist, it probably cost my medical
insurer a couple hundred dollars, and it seemed to reduce annoying triggering
incidents, so I hated to lose it. The last I saw it was yesterday morning.
I called the Comfort Inn in Ashburn and they said they had it. I rode 69
miles yesterday from Ashburn to Valdosta. I wasn't too keen on taking two
days to retrace my steps, so I decided to rent a car, drive back to Ashburn,
get the brace and return.
Since the Day's Inn at Exit 6 had only Dairy Queen and Burger
King as dining choices and no car rental options, I skipped breakfast and
pedaled into downtown Valdosta--9.9 miles--to the Enterprise Rent-a-Car
office.
On the way, I stopped at Morris Repair Shop (a Cannondale bicycle
dealer) and asked again about my front hub. Wayne Morris said not to worry
about it with so little riding now to Key West. He also had some good pointers
on riding to Key West, having ridden there himself.
I rented a full-sized Dodge panel van, so elected to take 
my
bike with me, a big mistake. Just a couple of miles into my drive, a truck
in front of me braked quickly and I had to do the same. The bike slid on
the metal floor all the way to the back of my seat, where the impact broke
off my Alaska to Florida sign. I ended up tying the bicycle to the sides
of the van using nylon parachute cord I carried with me in my panniers for
such emergencies.
I got to Ashburn around 11:00 and asked the motel clerk for my
brace. She brought me a woman's bracelet. I was devastated and almost cried.
I described the medical brace I'd lost and the desk clerks disappeared for
quite some time (at least half an hour), but came back with my brace. They
told me they'd found it in the trash. They said each room's trash was tossed
away in a separate clear plastic trash bag, apparently labeled with the
room number, because they said they found the brace in my trash bag.
I then headed back to Valdosta. By Noon, having never stopped
for breakfast, I was starving, so stopped at IHOP (International House of
Pancakes) in Adel for breakfast: good french toast.
I returned the van to Enterprise at 1:28 PM. What a wasted morning:
138 miles of driving; only 9.9 of riding.
I felt naked and vulnerable without my sign which was broken
off in the van. As I was riding south of Valdosta 
looking
for a hardware store or some place that could effectuate a repair to the
sign, I spotted Valdosta Machine Shop. I asked Otis Fletcher, President,
if he could repair it with a piece of angle iron. While iron is not a typical
bicycle repair material, at this point a few ounces won't bother me, so
I went with it. Otis did a good job and the sign is definitely more solidly
fastened to the bicycle than ever and doesn't look any worse for wear. How
do you like my "retro" sign bracket?
I finally got on my way again at around 2:30, almost immediately
stopping for Gatorade. It was real hot today: 88° to 92°. I found
myself drinking Gatorade frequently.
There were wetlands on both sides of me much of the way between
Valdosta and the Florida border.
For a couple of days, I'd been hearing rustling over my right
shoulder as I rode along. Small animals scurried away as I rode away. I
never actually saw any of them at all. I did see one squirrel. I think some
of the rustles were armadillos.
The drivers seemed a bit less friendly today. I received a couple
of cat-calls and a couple of honks. One guy driving a pickup towing an ATV
on a trailer, sounded his horn so annoyingly, that I moved left in anger
though he wanted me off the road. Stupid on my part.
I'm in FLORIDA.
I RODE MY BICYCLE ALL THE WAY FROM ALASKA TO FLORIDA.
I REALLY DID IT.
I passed the old and long-abandoned US-41 "Florida Welcomes
You" building where everybody who stopped received free orange juice
courtesy of the State of Florida. The sign was gone, but you could still
see the outline of what it said. I-75 has taken over that role and bicyclists
coming in on US-41 get short-changed. I didn't get any free OJ (is it politically
incorrect now to use the letters "OJ" to describe orange juice?
Are those letters exclusive to the big soap opera trial?) Oh, well.
The late start and heat got to me, so I decided to call it a
day early. I cut over to I-75 and the Jasper Day's Inn after only 37 miles.
That was a smart move. I put on my swimming suit and jumped into the pool.
It was incredibly refreshing.
I then headed to the only restaurant in the area: Sheffields.
This truck stop restaurant makes a big deal of Jesus. Lighted signs over
the pumps proclaim "Jesus is Lord" and there is scripture hanging
on the walls all over the restaurant, references on the printed menu and
religious music blaring through the restaurant.
Note: Okay, its time to offend somebody
again (I seem to do that whenever I engage in social commentary -- but I
don't care. This is my website and I'll say what I damned well please).
I don't fault anybody for their religion, but I sure don't want their religion
thrust at me. Religion belongs in a church, or in the privacy of one's home;
not in a place of business. I know, this is the bible belt, but there is
a time and place for religion.
When I patronize a restaurant, I want people who worship the
clean kitchen and fresh food, nothing more. If I was looking for a gas station,
I'd trust a dealer for a national chain like Marathon, Shell, Amoco, etc.
more than the words "Jesus is Lord." In fact, "Jesus is Lord"
gives me NO information at all about the products or services being sold.
I wanted food; good, healthy food--nothing more.
Religion is a personal thing that should remain just that. I've
been amazed at the number of people from Kentucky on south who've inquired
about my religion or Ritt's ("are you a Christian" they asked).
What business is it of theirs? We stopped for directions at one point and
the man asked if we were Christians. Why? Would we be misled if we weren't?
When we sought to end the discussion of religion by saying "no,"
the guy went on to ask whether we "wanted to be" Christians. I
know now why they call this the bible belt.
While I'm on my soapbox, I guess I'll vent my spleen a bit about
Florida and why I've never liked the State of Florida (I am approaching
this trip with an open mind--I've liked every other state or province I've
been to, and I expect I'll find enough redeeming qualities to like Florida
too). But, here it is my first day here and I find a perfect example of
why I have always disliked Florida:
Any self-respecting community regulates commercial advertising.
Not most of Florida. This store right next door to the Day's Inn is hideous.
Elmore 'Dutch" Leonard got it right in the title of his book: "Glitz".
I can't stand big signs, bright lights and everything that goes with them.
For what its worth, I hate Las Vegas even more.
Total mileage today: 37.
© Ed Noonan 1996, 1997
