This November, I will bicycle (& skate) my way to Key West, Florida. It is the finale of my pedal-powered journey beginning (for me) in Bar Harbor Maine in 2015 — cycling southbound a week+ per year.
But, I don’t ride for me.
I ride — with a group of cyclists, test riders who are activists and pioneers — for you, your friends, your family and future generations who crave safe travels that don’t involve a cars. I pedal-power this distance for walkers, joggers, skaters, cyclists and those in wheelchairs who need trails & safe passages for commuting, recreating or just needing a dose of nature.
My fellow cyclists and I are part of The East Coast Greenway Alliance — a non-profit who works with communities along the Eastern seaboard to build or bridge trails from Maine to Key West that are car-free &/or safe-passages.
My ask, in this final push to Key West — is that you join me. Join me via a one-time tax deductible donation (any amount is truly appreciated) to the East Coast Greenway Alliance.
- You get to play a part of something big
- What part is that? Building an ‘Appalachian Trail’ (so to speak) on the East Coast — without the wilderness!
- You will receive a personal note of gratitude from me
- You get to experience the final test-ride in November via my blog (yes, reading is optional!)
- You will receive a high-five honorable shout-out in my blog at the end of the ride — after all YOU made it possible. (read prior ECG cycling travels here)
Thank you, for reading, being a part of this effort and donating any amount you can. Click DONATE to begin. Many thanks for your support — and making non-car travels safe for generations to come.
We checked for frost — didn’t see any — then looked for ice – didnt see any of that either, so before we loaded suitcases onto the baggage truck, we reopened luggage and rummaged for more clothes. Socks became gloves, neckwear became hats, multiple layers of thin tees kept the core warm with proper thinking, and anyone with a winter jacket – was looked on with envy. Welcome to Florida! Continue reading East Coast Greenway cyclists arrive in Titusville, Florida
We departed St. Augustine on a leisurely pace, taking in the rich history of this city dubbed the oldest city in America. Taking extra care on the cobblestones, we weaved into a park square with cannons dating back to the 1500’s, and Christmas trees installed that morning, creating one more photo opportunity.
Continue reading East Coast Greenway cyclists ride to Daytona Beach, Florida
We departed the hotel at 7:15am sharp, and rode a brisk 6 miles to the quaint historic town of St. Mary’s, Georgia. We saw more egrets, pelicans, places designated as bird sanctuaries and not one coffee shop open for business. Patience is a practice, and there is always Fernandina Beach. Continue reading 79 miles and let’s just round up to 80
The heat and humidity are back. After two days of rides that felt as if we had made a detour to New England, today’s temperatures allowed us return to shorts and tee shirts.
We departed Jeckyl Island in one large group, and many of us spent the next six miles mesmerized by the marshland views and a tall majestic bridge in the backdrop get closer with hopes that it was not on our route. Collective wishful thinking worked, and we turned away from that man made mountain to head south. Continue reading Cyclists ride the East Coast Greenway to St. Mary’s Georgia
Good news made an appearance to our day starting at mile 0, when the predicted rains took a detour from our 54 mile route to Darien, Georgia. The temperatures were in the 40s and no one much minded because after 30 minutes in heavy traffic on a 4 lane highway, we veered off on rural roads with barely a vehicle — a fine Georgia gem!
Continue reading East Coast Greenway cyclists: Hinesville to Darien, and beyond
The Hatteras Ferry…
Two lines of cars waited in formation, and we tucked our bicycles behind a Hummer and in the lee of a cement truck that partially blocked 30 knot winds from the south. A Hatteras Island Ferry official approached wearing a jacket with the words ‘Security’ and asked us for ID’s. Satisfied after comparing faces to driver licenses he then asked if we were aware of the winds. Continue reading Bike trippin’ – As good as it gets
More adventures filled day 4 of bike trippin’ along the Outer Banks in off season. We continued to ride without paper maps or GPS guidance to decide where to ride – opting for more of a ‘get lost’ strategy. It’s very easy to ride the Outer Banks without a map:
- Ocean is east, the Sounds are west — stay somewhere in the middle
- When you land in a neighborhood where large barking dogs gather unleashed, turnaround.
- When you ride to the entrance of the Wright Brothers National Monument, and are waved through without having to pay — thank the lovely lady and spend some time with the Wright Brothers
Continue reading Bike trippin’ OBX turn by turn
By a leisurely 8:30 am we hit the bicycle trail that ran parallel to Route 12 and headed south from Corolla. Winds blew strong from the south – at least 25 knots, and the beauty of riding into the winds meant we would finish our loopy ride with a tailwind. The bicycle trails twist and turn among giant sand dunes that resemble small hills, and weave through crooked low-lying trees and brush — the Outer Banks version of Florida mangroves — which protect this delicate sandbar from hurricanes and storms. When the trails meandered closer to the Sound-side, we soaked in spectacular sights of a vast waterway, tall sea grass and the occasional blue heron. As we neared Kitty Hawk, we caught a glimpse of the ocean where the dunes were short, and beach access included ocean views. We rode past a street corner garnished with yellow bricks, and on top of those bricks sat two ruby slippers, and we bonded with a ‘no place like home’ vibe. Continue reading Bike tripping the yellow brick road
When camouflage is not needed
A daybreak beach jog — the pre-bike adventure — was met with a horde of humans a few decades too old to be active-duty decked in vintage war-be-gone fatigues, packing large cameras, 12 inch lenses and 2 inch straps secured around their necks. They stood at the top of wooden walkways, the dune gateway to the ocean, two dozen of ’em by random guess — half intently focused on something happening toward the ocean, and the other half focused on the movements of a potential intruder. What are you looking at, I asked hoping the answer wouldn’t be ‘me’, as I slowed my gate, inching closer to the crowd. A man wearing head-to-toe camouflage replied ‘burs and turles’ without looking away from his binoculars oblivious to a drawl with interchangeable vowels and missing consonant’s. Continue reading Bike trippin – Objects appear fuzzy