Pedaling Gatorade

So, this is the way day number thirteen was supposed to end? After a very restful night with friends in Vero Beach, and 55.7 miles of hard pedaling, I've landed in Jonathan Dickson State Park for the night, located about 12 miles north of North Palm Beach. I can't say it's getting any easier as 50 miles seems to activate my tiredness circuitry. I thought I would have achieved 60 miles today; and might have, had southerly headwinds not started around two this afternoon. Any way, 55 miles required nine and a half hours of effort. Looks like we might get some rain tonight, which will be my first for this trip. 590 miles down - A little less than that to go! But, who's counting?

At least once a day now someone stops me to enquire about my mission. I always give them my card and dieect them to this blog. Today was the first time I met someone who seemed generally opposed to what I am doing. If I understood his concerns correctly, he thought the effect of my message would be to just encourage some more folks to rip off the taxpayer. He said most soldiers earn big bucks after a couple of years, and he knew of many firefighters, policemen with no more than a fourth grade education, and teachers who are multi-millionaires. I didn't ask him how much money he has; but, I'm fairly sure he was in a bad mood. When I get home, I'm going to force my teacher/wife Sally to tell me where she's hiding all of her millions. Of course, she'll demand to know where I'm hiding mine, as I was a state firefighter for six years, and a soldier for nine.

Tomorrow, I should reach somewhere between Pompano Beach and Ft. Lauderdale, depending on weather. Once this low pressure moves off to the East, I hope to get a couple dyas of tailwinds from it.

This morning, I dumped a bunch of weight out of my trailer, primarily publications and unneeded clothing. I felt a discernable positive effect on pedaling effort. So, what's this got to do with Gatorade! After breakfast every morning, Gatorade is all I need to sustain me for the rest of the day and evening. I keep trying to get the waitresses to feel sorry for me when I order in the morning and tell them that I won't be able to eat again until the following morning; but so far, none have offered to cut me a deal on the bill. What selfishness!

Al