As soon as I left my wife’s work place, where I dropped her off for another eight hours of toiling away in the clothing department, I headed out on my new Mtn bike. My route of choice was the bike path that runs along the South New River Canal. I had in mind some expanded routes but wouldn't make any directional decision until the time came.
While riding along the canal, one couldn't help but hear the melodic cock-a-doodle-doo coming from a nearby farm. It was obvious that Mr. Rooster thought it was time for everything living to rise and shine. After all, it was just after 6:30 a.m. as the sun was making its grand entrance from the east.
That’s right, folks. The sun rises from the east on this side of the Atlantic pond as well. And we put our pants on one leg at a time. People are people no matter where they reside – and ain't that so.
Anyhow, I turned north onto Nob Hill Road, turned into the bike paths that zig-zag between houses in the Forrest Ridge section, turned south onto Pine Island Road and then back onto the Orange Drive bike path that runs along the canal. As soon as I reached University Drive, a mega-busy six-lane road full of horseless carriages, I turned around and began heading west. I had no desire to mingle with Sunday morning traffic on any roadway.
After reaching Flamingo Road, which is basically where I began the ride, I turned northward and then westward onto SW 36 Ct., a street that takes you past the old Kapok Tree section where large oak trees full of Spanish Moss is commonplace. That area reminds me what South Florida used to look like before the transformation from green to concrete.
From the Kapok Tree area, I ended up biking along a horse trail that exits at the entrance to a popular nudist camp. The rules state that one must strip of all clothes, so I did a rapid change when passing the entrance from my red cycling outfit to nothing and then back to my red cycling kit. I was relieved to hear nothing but silence and no laughter when passing the entrance. LOL
I then passed Mount Trashmore and the Boy Scout Camp along Boy Scout Road. I spotted no trash or boy scouts, only fellow cyclists that were speeding down the road on their road bikes. They waved and I waved. It was nice to be recognized as a cyclist in spite of me riding on sidewalks and asphalt bike paths.
Just before passing the entrance to the nudist camp, I opened up the bike’s throttle to 22.5 mph. I had to know what I could do on the flats without assistance from the wind or while accelerating down a bridge. I ran out of road, otherwise I may have been able to reach 25 mph on the Mtn bike. Maybe next outing I'll be able to go faster!
After heading east on the bike path that runs along the canal, my non-adventurous bike ride ended in the parking lot of Wal-Mart, where I began. I then walked into the store to put my wife’s mind at ease, letting her know that I survived another South Florida bike ride – and ain't that so.
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