Randonneurs are like magpies. We don't earn awards for finishing first, but we can work toward awards that recognize completing a certain number of rides, accumulating certain distances, visiting a certain number of locations, etc. Some of us (e.g., me) are motivated to collect these awards, which are shiny, metal trinkets.
One award has been in my sights for quite a while: the ACP 5000 Award. (ACP = Audax Club Parisien, the mothership of randonneuring in the world.) This award requires completing a 200K, 300K, 400K, 600K, 1000K, Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP), a flรจche, and enough other ACP events to total at least 5000 km. You have to complete all the rides within four years of the first qualifying event. A 1000K has been my only missing piece for the ACP 5000 Award. Because I'm one-and-done on PBP, my window of opportunity has been getting smaller. I'm so excited that a couple of weekends ago, I reached my goal!
After completing PBP (1200K) in 2019, I didn't plan to do any brevets longer than 400K, except the elusive 1000K to get the ACP 5000 Award. We haven't had a 1000K in Georgia since I started randonneuring, and so I was looking for an out-of-state 1000K. I had planned to knock it out in the spring of 2020 with a 1000K in North Carolina. Then, the pandemic hit, and all brevets were cancelled for much of 2020. Randonneurs USA (RUSA) mostly got back in the groove during 2021. It was time to get serious about my 1000K. When the 2022 RUSA calendar came out, I searched for 1000Ks within driving distance. The most convenient one distance-wise and schedule-wise was the Pine Island 1000K in Florida in October. I locked in my calendar.
I'm so glad the Pine Island 1000K panned out. I much prefer the coast (Florida) to the mountains (North Carolina). Also, I found that the flatness of Florida worked much more to my advantage than I anticipated.
PBP was the physically hardest thing I ever did. With Pine Island being only 200K shorter than PBP, I was somewhat nervous at the prospect of my 1000K. But I knew I could do it. Interestingly, the Pine Island 1000K turned out to be much easier than PBP. Not easy, but easier. Several factors accounted for that. The main one was rest. I went into the Pine Island 1000K better rested than for any other long brevet I've done. (One benefit to me from the pandemic is that I had a lot less organized activity I had to do, and so for the first time in my adult life, I started getting adequate sleep. I realized that I had been sleep-deprived for years. I've tried to be more diligent about getting rest ever since.) Not having the time zone difference of PBP surely helped, too. Additionally, the Pine Island 1000K was set up as a series of loops. We got to stay at the same hotel for the entire brevet, riding a loop each day. The logistics were greatly simplified, and it was luxurious to get to sleep in a comfortable bed after each leg. And I got about 6 hours of sleep each night! (That's a lot during randonneuring.)
Pre-Brevet
I got work well enough squared away to be gone for a few days. On Thursday morning I headed south in Robert's Bronco. I can carry my bicycle in my own car, but I needed extra space for a special reason. Read to the end of my report to find out why :)
The six-hour drive was simple, mostly a straight shot down I-75. An audiobook made it pretty enjoyable. Within minutes of arriving at the Comfort Inn in Tavares, FL, I spotted several skinny, middle-aged guys - surely, fellow randonneurs. About a dozen people had signed up for the 1000K. I was happy to find that I knew one other rider, Paul from Colorado. I had ridden with him in 2019 on the Sweet Onion 600K, which was my 600K qualifier for PBP. At first I was surprised that most of us at the Pine Island 1000K were from out of state. Then, Paul pointed out that a lot of people there were using this brevet to get the earliest possible pre-registration for PBP 2023. You pre-register in January of a PBP year, and the date you can sign up is determined by the longest brevet you completed in the previous year. Riding a 1000K or 1200K in the previous year gives you the earliest sign-up option.
The Regional Brevet Administrator (RBA) for Central Florida Randonneurs is also named Paul. RBA Paul did a quick inspection of each rider's bicycle to make sure he/she had proper front and rear lights and a reflective vest and reflective ankle bands - all RUSA requirements for nighttime riding.
For now, it was still light outside. RBA Paul recommended an Irish pub only a few miles away. I turned this into a coffeeneuring opportunity! This is my third year of coffeeneuring. The basic requirements of coffeeneuring are to do seven rides in October and November. Each ride has to be at least two miles long, and you have to stop to drink coffee or other coffee-like beverage along the way.
I rode on fairly quiet roads from the hotel to downtown Tavares, which is a really nice, old-style Florida town (not touristy). I wheeled around a few blocks to see if any other restaurants struck my fancy, but I decided to go with the Irish pub.
I parked my bicycle by the railing around the patio and went inside to see if I could sit outside to eat. A friendly waitress greeted me, calling me "milady." Good vibes already. No problem for me to join the several other customers who were already sitting on the patio.
I thought about just getting iced tea for my beverage, but how can I go to an Irish pub and not get a beer? I don't like coffee, but I chose a Guiness Nitro, which was actually pretty good. It had a lot of chocolate overtones.
A guy at the next table said he is a Guinness connoisseur and insisted that I drink it from a glass instead of a can. He even went inside and fetched me a glass :) I think he was right on his recommendation.
I ordered fish chips, which offered a nice Venn diagram overlap between pub fare and my desire to eat fish while I was in Florida. It was really good, and I'm glad I got some fish then because this was my only real meal during the whole trip.
A woman at another table had on some cologne that smelled good, like patchouli. The light from the setting sun was beautiful. I soaked in all the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of the warm evening.
My coffeenuering outing helped me relax and focus before my big ride the next morning...
Day 1 (400K to Gainesville)
I set my alarm for 3:00 AM to give myself plenty of time before our 4:00 AM rollout. I had managed about 6 1/2 hours of sleep - not as much as on a regular night, but I never sleep very well before a big cycling event anyway. Surprisingly, these 6 1/2 hours were pretty decent quality.
Within a few miles, we started bunching into groups that would stay mostly intact the rest of the weekend. Happily, I found myself riding with Paul. We ride at about the same pace, and I was glad for his greater experience on very long brevets. Additionally, I quickly was reminded of our shared appreciation for dad jokes. Although the quality of our jokes definitely declined over the three days, they did a lot to keep me going.
In a little under two hours, we reached the first control, a gas station in Oklawaha. I was excited to see this sign. I thought it was maybe a sign for a local fair. Free ride in a sheriff's car - how fun! Then I read the second part (ha ha!)
With it being so early in the ride, I felt good, and it kept getting better. The sun rose a little while later (always a spirit lifter during a brevet), and Frank from Maryland started riding with Paul and me to make a very companionable group.
The day's 400K loop took us northward, turning around in Gainesville. As we approached Gainesville, we rode several miles on a bike path. It was nice not to have to think about traffic for a while.
One of our controls was at a bike shop in Gainesville. I had never stopped at a bike shop for a brevet control before - cool! Even better, they had a bike shop dog! Her name is Nellie.
Much of the route was out-and-back. A literal and figurative high point of the day was a bridge on Highway 316. We had a beautiful view of the woods and wetlands below. On the return trip, Frank, Paul, and I stopped for a photo opp. I forgot to get photos from Paul (the only one of us who actually took pictures there).
The guys and I booked it that day. We averaged 18 mph for about 255 miles, the fastest 400K I have ever ridden! The flat terrain definitely was helping. Even so, would I be able to maintain this pace for the entire 1000K?
Back at the Comfort Inn in Tavares, I took a (wondrous) shower, ate the pimento cheese sandwich I had stowed in my hotel room refrigerator (I was too tired to seek out a real meal), and fell asleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow.
Day 2 (300K to the Gulf Coast)
A separate Pine Island 300K brevet was held on Saturday, concurrently with the 1000K. The 300K riders started at 6:00 AM. Several 1000K riders started with them, but Frank, Paul, and I opted for a slightly earlier start at 5:00 AM. Although my energy level was good, I was a little antsy about continuing to ride as fast as the previous day. That turned out to be a non-issue. Paul intentionally started out more slowly, partly for recovery and partly because experience has taught him the wisdom of riding at a pace that you truly can keep up all day.
We rode another mostly out-and-back route, this time to Pine Island on the Gulf coast. One of our controls (both ways) was Lake Lindsey Deli.
This was a great control with lots to choose from. Paul mentioned root beer - I hadn't had a root beer in years! It was delicious with a Cuban sandwich.
As a bonus, we got some good dad-joke fuel:
RBA Paul had informed us that over the course of the entire 1000K, we would see most of what Florida has to offer terrain-wise, including urban areas, beaches, wetlands, and forests. He also said that this day's route had a few bumps - hillier than what most people would expect from Florida. The area west of Lake Lindsey was the hilliest. There were some rollers but nothing even as hard as what I'm used to riding at home. Still, the Florida hills were noticeable on such a long ride.
The biggest drawback to me on Saturday's ride was the significant number of rude drivers. Florida Man is real. I also saw a lot of truly mean-spirited political signs. Sadly, I have become more accustomed to the increasingly vitriolic political discourse these days, but the quantity and extremity (e.g., prominent F-bombs) of some of the signs were unsettling.
Perhaps all this came together to give me a vaguely dystopian feeling as we rode through Weeki Wachee. As a kid when my family drove to Florida to go to the beach, I remember signs along I-75 enticing people to visit the mermaids at Weeki Wachee. We never did, but I was always rather simultaneously fascinated and spooked by the idea of the mermaids. They are still there as far as I know. As I pedaled through the area, I also sensed a lot of jingoism. In reality, I only saw a VFW and maybe a few signs for military bases and/or recruiting, but I couldn't shake the feeling of I Dream of Jeannie (set in Florida) gone bad.
We turned onto Cortez Boulevard, which took us toward our turnaround point for the day on Pine Island. The roads got quieter as we approached the island. I doubted the wisdom of filling across the channel to build this access road and of constructing houses right at the edge of the small, vulnerable island. Nevertheless, my sense of dystopia ebbed in the unmistakable beauty of the area. I had just ridden to the Gulf coast! I was determined to enjoy it.
We rode to a park at the tip of the island. Cars have to pay to get in, but we could ride in on bicycles for free. The actual control was Willie's Tropical Breeze. I joked to Frank and Paul that this place gave me the willies. Actually, it didn't. I had a lot of fun there. After dipping my feet in the Gulf...
I ordered a Tropical Breeze (mango and frozen lemonade) and relaxed at a table in the shade.
Willie's offers typical beachgoing junk food in a blaze of garish pastel decor. Groovy music from the 1970s - The Bee Gees, Donna Summer, etc. - was playing over the sound system. The whole scene had a pleasantly tacky-tourist/chill vibe.
Frank was feeling the heat on the journey back to Tavares. Shade was scarce, and so we had to make do with stopping for a breather under a bridge. Paul noted that his wife really stays on him to wear sunscreen, and so he applied it copiously. He had put so much on at Willie's that he looked like Marcel Marceau.
Frank was grateful for the relatively shady area on the return to the Lake Lindsey Deli control. At the same time, the hills really started taking a toll on his sore knee. We took a substantial break at the deli. As I relaxed on the front porch, a guy on a trike motorcycle pulled up. He looked a little like Freddie Mercury, enhanced by the fact that he was playing "Under Pressure" as he rode up. We struck up a friendly conversation. He described how he had built his trike himself with parts like a motor from a '68 Volkswagen Beetle. He had even won several motorcycle shows with his trike. I know nothing about motorcycles, but I was impressed with the guy's skill and passion for his hobby.
We still had about 100K to go for the day. Paul and I encouraged Frank as best we could. Our last control of the day was a return visit to the BP in Webster. (Where does a bee go to go to the bathroom? A BP station.) Nothing much appealed to me at this control, but I knew I needed to eat. I was about to go with Cheez-Its, one of my standbys, when I spied the boiled peanuts; they hit the spot.
Randonneuring is weird; in what other situation would you sit on the curb in front of a convenience store and eat boiled peanuts?
Frank felt truly awful for the rest of the ride. I know what it's like to feel bad on a ride, and so I greatly sympathized. On the other hand, I was frustrated that we weren't riding faster. I kept my frustration to myself, however, because making sure Frank was OK was the most important thing. Some of the 300K riders joined us for the last miles, and we all limped back to the Comfort Inn together. Frank was a real trooper to push through to the end.
Paul and I hoped Frank would stick with it through the entire 1000K, but I knew Frank's ride was over as he stood at the hotel desk and cancelled his hotel room for the following night. He was heading home the next morning.
Day 3 (300K to the Atlantic Coast)
Paul and I headed out at 5:00 AM again the next morning. We rode a little while with Elly, who was really nice. However, he told us that he would be riding slower and urged us to continue on at our own pace. Paul and I soon joined up with Josh. I greatly enjoyed riding as this threesome for the remainder of the brevet.
This third day had the most beautiful scenery. We rode through farmland and national forest. It was my favorite day of the brevet. As if that weren't great enough...we saw a Florida black panther, which is endangered! Our sighting lasted only about 10 seconds, and we determined what it was somewhat by process of elimination. It was about the size of a large dog but moved like a cat, and it was too skinny to be a bear. Because all three of us saw it, I feel more confident in our identification.
At one point I was pulling. I must have zoned out because Paul commented that we had just passed a turtle in the road. Turtle? I had to turn around and rescue it! I rescue turtles, even in foreign countries.
The first control of the day was about 53 miles in at a Kangaroo Express in Seville. I let my stomach be my guide (i.e., whatever looked appealing), and I chose a burrito that I heated up in the microwave - true convenience store grub. I had never gotten something like this on a brevet, which kind of amazed Paul. I'll admit that it tasted really good.
The next control was a Circle K in Bunnell about 24 miles farther. I knew I needed to keep eating, but nothing appealed to me. Josh perfectly described what a multiday brevet is like: "My body is ravenous, but nothing sounds good. I feel kind of pukey and kind of like I could eat a whole pizza."
We arrived at the Atlantic Ocean at Flagler Beach. From there we rode south, parallel to the ocean, for about 12 miles toward Ormond Beach. There was something magical about riding along the coast. Even more special was getting to ride on opposite coasts of Florida on back-to-back days. I simply had to put my feet in the Atlantic Ocean as I had done the day before in the Gulf of Mexico.
A Florida native, Josh gave us a heads up that we would be riding through a beautiful wetland area as we headed away from the beach. It was, in fact, the most scenic part of the entire brevet.
Only one more control, a return trip to the Kangaroo Express in Seville, remained until the finish. We were tired but knew we would make it to the end. As we rode back through the farming area, I stopped to get a picture of grapefruit growing - something I had never seen!
We were tired as the day's light faded. More dad jokes and some Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey distracted us for a while. We stopped to don our reflective gear and kept pedaling. Some of the roads were rather rough, especially along the shoulder. Not long after the sun went down, I was drafting behind Paul and Josh. Pow! I hit a nail that I hadn't seen in the road. My back tire went flat. All this time without a mechanical - we were only 20 miles from the end.
I had a tire repair kit and went to work. I want to be self-sufficient on basic repairs like this, but my Trek Domane that I was riding has Gator Skin tires, which are really hard to get off and on the rim. The guys might have left me to my own devices, but as we were stopped by the side of the road, kamikaze mosquitoes attacked us! We hadn't noticed them while we were moving on our bicycles. Josh and Paul stepped in to speed up the tire-changing process as we all did the mosquito dance. I'm sure it would have looked funny to an observer, but it felt excruciating. Also, I wasn't laughing because I was embarrassed to accept help and subject the guys to the mosquitoes. At the same time, I also greatly appreciated their assistance. Part of randonneuring is helping each other out. Maybe this was good karma for sticking with Frank the day before.
We motored for the remaining miles. I pulled as much as I could, doing penance in my mind because of the flat. We got back a little before 9:00 PM - a safe and successful 1000K! We finished in just under 65 hours, well within the 75-hour time limit. I was also thrilled because based on my PBP finish, I thought I might be finishing the 1000K in the middle of the night. Maybe I could have finished a few hours sooner, but the deliberately moderate pace that Paul set on days 2 and 3 kept me from being wiped out at the end. Besides, having rando buddies was a lot more fun as well as safer.
Josh immediately went to take a shower, not even taking the shower beer that RBA Paul offered him. (Shower beer - brilliant! How had I never known this is a thing?) However, rando buddy Paul and I decided to eat first. Dominoes pizza arrived a few minutes after we did. RBA Paul also had a variety of adult beverages, including beer, cider, and Scotch. I can't tell you how good that pizza and Scotch tasted!
Post-Brevet
As if the Pine Island 100K weren't epic enough...
I also brought home Olive!
She's a Galga. (Galgo = male, Galga = female) Galgos are sometimes called Spanish greyhounds. They look similar to regular greyhounds but are a different breed. Greyhounds are sprinters while Galgos are endurance runners. Galgos are used for hunting in Spain. They typically are used for only one season and then are killed or abandoned, so Olive is truly a rescue.
Galgos have been on my radar screen for several years, and now seemed like a good time to adopt. The closest Galgo adoption group to me is Greyhounds in Motion in Florida. The timing worked out for me to bring Olive home after my 1000K. Now you know why I needed to take Robert's Bronco on my trip: to carry both my bicycle and Olive!
I told my rando buddies about Olive. She also motivated me throughout the ride. I counted down the miles: "Less than 500 miles to Olive!" "Less than 400 miles to Olive!"...
As I drove home, I let my mind linger on the magic of the long weekend. I completed my 1000K and, thus, the last requirement of the ACP 5000 Award. I got to do it while exploring some surprisingly beautiful and varied parts of Florida. Florida is definitely more than beaches and Mickey Mouse!
John Anderson's song "Seminole Wind" had been playing in my mind all weekend. Now I listened to it on the drive.
Ever since the days of old
Men would search for wealth untold
They'd dig for silver and for gold
And leave the empty holes
And way down south in the Everglades
Where the black water rolls and the saw grass waves
The eagles fly and the otters play
In the land of the Seminole
So blow, blow Seminole wind
Blow like you're never gonna blow again
I'm callin' to you like a long-lost friend
But I know who you are
And blow, blow from the Okeechobee
All the way up to Micanopy
Blow across the home of the Seminole
The alligator and the gar
Progress came and took its toll
And in the name of flood control
They made their plans and they drained the land
Now the Glades are goin' dry
And the last time I walked in the swamp
I stood up on a cyprus stump
I listened close and I heard the ghost
Of Oseola cry
So blow, blow Seminole wind
Blow like you're never gonna blow again
I'm callin' to you like a long-lost friend
But I know who you are
And blow, blow from the Okeechobee
All the way up to Micanopy
Blow across the home of the Seminole
The alligator and the gar
Then, I listened to Tom Petty, a Gainesville, FL native. In recent years I have really come to appreciate his large catalog of good, solid music.
Best of all, Robert, Allie, Fleetwood, and I have a wonderful addition to our pack. As you can see, Olive already blends in well <3
