As most of your know, Alex dislocated his shoulder a few months ago.
We had to figure out how to pop it back in on the side of a trail.
Since then, Alex’s main goal has been to not fuck his shoulder up.
I slowed down, Alex wasn’t near his brake levers, and you know the rest of the story.
Collisions are always worse for the rider at the back.
Luckily we’d be back on the road after a breather.
Time to get moving again.
We needed to find a campsite and bad.
Deep in the keys, there’s no such thing as motels, only beach resorts.
One night’s sleep for a king’s ransom was out of the question.
He didn’t have to tell us twice.
It
was too dark to get any meaningful footage, but
I did get some stills.
We pitched Alex's backpacking tent and laid head to toe like sardines.
It was damp, hot, and god forbid one of us passed gas there was no breeze.
It's a miracle either of us slept, but outside the tent was a hungry cloud of mosquitos waiting
to chew our balls off.
Alex and I share a distain for mosquitos and a love of coffee, so at the crack of dawn
we efficiently dismantled our campsite and got the f*ck out of there as fast as possible.
We barely even noticed the amazing waterfront view.
After drinking coffee and scarfing down bagels, we stopped at the gas station for PRD’s.
It was there that I shot this video with my cell phone to send to a friend.
When installing my rack I ended up with some extra hardware, which I stashed in my patch
kit just in case.
I’m glad I did, because we were about to brave the final challenge of the journey;
the Seven Mile Bridge.
You can take a wild guess at how long that is.
With some of the best scenery in the keys, it’s easy to imagine the motorists instagramming
instead of driving.
What's worse, the shoulder was littered with debris.
If either of us flatted, it would be a terrifying repair.
Aside from the speeding cars and crappy surface, the 7 mile bridge was pretty spectacular.
The adjacent bridge was built in the early 20th century as part of the overseas railway.
It's still open to pedestrians, although they can't make it all the way across.
There was light at the end of the tunnel.
We pressed on, and stopped about 20 miles from Key West to fuel up.
It was there that we met
this guy.
With a fresh six pack and lit cigarette, he tore ass down the greenway on his lithium
ion tricycle.
For all we knew, he was the richest man on the planet.
We set out again, but didn't get far.
15 miles from Key West, Alex's tire finally flatted.
But get this, it wasn't our sidewall repair that gave out!
Still, it was time to say goodbye to this old Panaracer.
We had only 15 miles left, but it felt like 100.
Our taints were in critical condition.
We were taking breaks to coast standing up.
The gruel was real.
It didn't feel real.
On Wednesday morning we left my house in Fort Lauderdale on our bicycles, to find ourselves
90 miles from Cuba two days later.
Alex had the sense to bring flip flops.
I actually got up during our meal and bought flip flops at the adjacent store—the cheapest
ones they had were $40, but taking off my shoes was priceless.
We pedaled to Key West for the experience—the journey.
Maybe it wasn't the most enjoyable journey, but we had a lot to show for it.
You learn the most when you encounter some adversity.
You’ll never tell an interesting story about the time you rode the bike lane without incident,
or the time you reserved a campsite and stayed there without a problem.
Whether you’re a mountain biker, a road biker, hiker, a climber, or whatever, it really
is about the journey and the things you encounter along the way.
Thanks for riding with me today, and I’ll see you next time.