After one group of cyclists had asked about my tour and then passed me by, I got to see a truly head-shaking scene that reminded me no matter where I am there will be absurd drivers on the road. This woman in a van blared her horn and swerved like an idiot trying to get around to pass, going crazy with impatience, all because the truck driver ahead of her was driving slow because he didn't want to cut off the cyclists (who were riding single file in appropriate manner) when going to turn. One of the cyclists chewed her out out thoroughly for her absurd behavior. I would have given the guy a medal if I could, but since I couldn't, I did put pedal to the metal to catch up with him to give him my congratulations on a job well done.
I didn't make many stops during the day. I took a little time at Spanish River Park and a couple other parks, but mostly I just rode. It wasn't far too go and I made good time, so all too soon it came time to turn off A1A to go inland to Lauderhill where my friend Taryn, and host for the night, lives. After spending the morning biking on bike lane with relatively relaxed traffic, everything was suddenly different as I got off A1A onto a main drag road into the city, with tons of traffic, and no bike lane. No more were there roadie cyclists everywhere, now only the lone man ahead of me on a cheap bike, likely his only means of transportation, riding through this traffic not for fun but because like me he had to get where he was going, moving faster than I was, but getting stopped at one light after another so I would catch up. The unsafe passes, the sports cars weaving in and out of traffic, the memorial markers at every intersection, this was the Miami metro I had expected. All too soon 35mph turned to 45, just to make things dicier still.
Dark clouds grew overhead, and I biked through wet streets, where clearly it had been raining not so long ago. But sadly the only wet I was getting was from the spray off the street. ...Then the thundering clouds opened up and I was not merely getting wet, but absolutely soaked from the downpour. I was worried that the reduced visibility would make things dangerous, or even that the roads might flood. To my great relief, not long after the rain started in earnest, I got back bike lane at last, and had some added security. It was a long 9 miles on that road all said. ...Made all the longer knowing I have every intention to bike right back along it in the morning so I can get back on A1A. But at last I arrived at the neighborhood, surprised by the automatic gate at the entrance. I biked around it and hoped nobody thought I was in a place I didn't belong. Taryn wasn't home yet from her work as a vet, but she'd left me a hidden key, even provided pictures to let me know where to find it. By the early afternoon I was inside for the day.
As per usual, I took care of bike maintenance first. Then I got out of my sopping clothes and into the shower, afterwards tossing my wet clothes into the wash. Then I relaxed with some beer and food that had generously been made available to me. When Taryn came home she took me out to dinner (Pad Thai! It had been too long), and then across the street for macaroons. She even took me to the grocery store so I could buy some on the go food (and acquire a little much needed cash back).
It was nice seeing a familiar face, catching up on life and her path in veterinary medicine that had brought her from Lincoln to the Miami metro. But what's more, it was good having someone I could talk openly with, about all variety of topics. Upon coming into the South I've had to be guarded about what I say, religion, politics, and even the weather (ahem, climate change), no longer being the relatively free topics they had been while I was in the Northeast. I have learned how to keep my thoughts to myself over the years, but it definitely isn't what comes naturally to me, especially when anyone expresses anything scientifically, verifiably untrue. Having someone like-minded to talk to today without fear of causing offense was very much something I needed.
I was reminded that it was our shared high school, a satellite school in Lincoln, the Science Focus Program, better known as Zoo School (since it was actually located in the Children's Zoo), where I first had a place that I felt free to be myself and to have open and intellectual discussions about the topics made taboo in the Midwest, as well as here in the South. That school was a special place, and I continue to be connected to people I met there to this day, Erin who was at the end of the road in my first trip in the Seattle area, Thomas who was at the end of the road in my last to Pittsburgh, and Bethany who I saw in San Francisco on my way down the west coast, and now Taryn here in Lauderhill, I've met a Zoo School alumni every trip. We grow and change, but our past experiences remain part of us, showing themselves in all sorts of places.
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