The Roundabout Conundrum (USA Days 168 & 169)

Yesterday was a rest day of such restful proportions that I really couldn’t write a blog about it. We did plenty of admin, planned the rest of our route, washed some clothes and cooked a big meal. So let’s move onto today, where under the sun and gathering humidity of southern Florida we worked our way further south.

The bike path gods blessed us once again today, bequeathing upon us a smooth tarmac surface all the way from Edgewater to Titusville – a good three quarters of our day. It wasn’t on the ocean, but then what is? Beach is. But this was no beach. In fact, we were forced inland by a huge peninsula that you could almost certainly ride into, but not out of. So that wouldn’t be very useful.

We passed a few thick and verdant mangrove swamps, a dozy alligator and two lost-looking tortoises. Every so often, the path arrived at a full traffic roundabout only for bikes, with only two exits. Think about that for a while. Makes you wonder why there was a roundabout, really. I can’t think they’re waiting on further funds to install further bike paths that would cross this one: on either side was swamp, trees, farmers’ fields and more swamp. Anyway, we took great pains to follow the rules at each of the junctions, looking left and right, waiting to merge, giving way to oncoming alligators and indicating clearly. This was honestly the most fun part of the day.

The problem with riding on the flat all the time is that hills break up the day into smaller, visible challenges. You get to the top and feel great about yourself. You rush down the descent with wind in your hair and your heart in your throat. It’s a jolly old time for everyone involved, and then you can look at your map for the next one. The only punctuation on a straight, flat, Florida road is every mile or two when we’re forced to stand up for a while to rest our poor, sore bums.

“Bum break!” one of us’ll chime.

Then we’ll both rock up to vertical and air out the unmentionables.

Thanks for reading.