From Key West to Fort Lauderdale,
FL
From Key West to Fort Lauderdale,
FL
Ending Mileage: 
Day of Travel
Departing From
Destination
Distance (in miles)
Distance (in kilometers)
Departure Time
Arrival Time
Total Travel Time
Average Speed (in mph)
Average Speed (in kph)
Today's late start (10:30AM) fails to acknowledge the hours of work that precede the actual departure time. I was up at 7:00 and showered and down to the communal telephone before 8:00. I took some time to pickup e-mail and visit weather.com to view the local and extended forecasts. Florida looks wet, wet, wet for the rest of the week. Getting out of this placed in order to meet Ron in Washington is beginning to look difficult.
But getting out of the house is hard too. I have made some friends here at the house and it takes time letting go. It is not just packing up. This is my longest stay and my belongings are more spread out than usual. It is the long string of good-byes that take the time. And I have some errands to do before I can actually head north.
My
buddy Mark shows up and we head first to the Mail Stop in Duval
Square. I have a Hard Rock shirt, some Hard Rock pins, my first four
rolls of film and some other junk that needs to be mailed back to Ron
in San Diego. Then off to the southernmost point in the USA. This
marker is better known that the Mile 0 marker on Highway 1. Both are
the geographic symbols of Key West.
A helpful Key West local organizes the flow of tourists into the portrait position and even acts as photographer for those of us that are short of helping hands. Apparently this is controversial in Key West but Mark doesn't have time to fill me in on the various sides of this debate.
Next stop is the gas station so that the beast is happily fed. And even at this most remote spot and on expensive real estate, gas is still cheaper than it was in El Centro on my first day. One last stop at Mark's house to pick up the mystic envelope protected by eight dancing babies. four flying skateboards and two waving flags. Mark rides with me up Highway 1 to Bolsa Chica. I am thankful for his insights on this strange trip.
The ride north is easier than the ride south. I know the way, I know what to expect, I feel much more confidant. The weather for the first half of the day is good. I have a chance to mount the video camera on the handlebars for the ride across Deer Key and the Seven Mile Bridge. I'm not going to look at it until I get home -- I expect it to be shaky but it will be fine no matter. By the north of end of Islamorada, the clouds have gotten gray enough that they can no longer be ignored. The weather goddess is ready to speak and I must don my vestments.
I had been worrying about what to do with the tank bag that holds my stationary and cameras. I knew I could put the cameras into the side bag that holds the weather gear while it rains. But what happens when the rain ends and now the tank bag is wet? It turns out that the tank bag will fit into the empty side bag with the stationary and cameras inside. This will solve the problem. The downside is that I have to wear both my leather (jacket and chaps) and the rain gear. It's a fair trade off.
So I'm on the side of the road on Islamorada, I've pulled into a residential area on the Gulf side of the key. On go the chaps. Then the rain pants. The leather jack fits over the top of the rain paints enhancing the seal. Finally the rain jacket goes over everything. The jacket's hood makes a nice guard against rain dripping off the helmet. All in all, I remain pretty dry.
I resume the trek north and immediately run into a heavy rainsquall that lasts between two and four minutes. Wow, I can ride in the rain.
Then the goddess decides that she is bored with rain and we have sun again. The moisture rises off the hot asphalt. Three layers of clothing trap all my body heat and moisture. I pull over at Key Largo for a Cuban sandwich and gas. It is wet on and off all the way back to the mainland. Then dry again for the ride up to Interstate 95. Rain comes and goes.
Somewhere along I-95 passing Miami, an empty orange juice container, probably of the one-gallon variety, flies from a recycling truck that is ahead of me. I can see it tumbling in the air. It must have a laser bombsight as it is heading straight for me. I move down behind the windscreen and hear a load thud as plastic kisses plastic. It spins off to my right clipping my arm.
I skirt Miami and head north. John from the Coconut Grove had suggested a guest house in Fort Lauderdale and I decide that I would like to head a bit further north than Miami or Miami Beach to try to get ahead of the low pressure system that is keeping Florida wet. By the time I pull off Interstate 95 onto I-595 into Port Everglades it is time to take off all the over clothing.
I get lost between the cruise ship dock and the convention center but eventually found Florida A1A. Once the highway gets to the ocean the ride is so beautiful. The surf is visible from the road. The water is emerald green in color streaked with white foam. The sand is beautiful. There are no buildings between the road and the surf. The opposite side of the road is lined with hotels, restaurants and the trappings of a tourist destination. The two sides of the road provide a great counterpoint.
Unfortunately A1A is blocked in preparation for the weekend's Military Tribute and Air Show. I have to wander through back streets to find my hotel. A block off A1A, you step back thirty or forty years in time. The buildings are well cared for but they have a mid-century look to them. All the buildings feature jalousie windows. These windows have intrigued me since I was a kid -- we had some in our house in Vista.
First task once I'm checked in to the hotel is a shower. Despite the rain, it has been a hot day. I sweat a lot plus the added moisture from the rain kept me wet all day long. A short nap, some journal entries and it is time for dinner. I head out to a gay shopping district and a well-advertised restaurant. I get lost a couple times and execute a search pattern until I finally locate my destination.
I place my order. I notice another guy who is sitting alone. I have a long internal dialog about how nice it would be to talk to someone while I eat. He would probably enjoy it too. But this is something I have never done -- walk up to a stranger and suggest that since we are both alone it would be better to eat together. But on this trip and years of business travel, I have had many meals alone and a meal should have a social component along with the nutritional one. Humans are social animals. But I have to deal with a fear of rejection -- won't I feel like an ass if the guy tells me to get stuffed? I actually get up once and sit down
Well surprises of surprises. It works. It turns out he is on vacation from New Jersey. He will start a new job next week and decided he needed a week on the beach to get mentally prepared. After dinner, he asks for a short ride on the motorcycle. It's good to have a new friend.
As I drive back to my hotel, I'm surprised by how much money there is in evidence in Fort Lauderdale. This is a very moneyed town. Tomorrow, I'll ride north towards the John F Kennedy Space Center.
Across the Seven Mile Bridge heading north from Key West towards Miami along US Highway 1 (2:11 duration, approximately 1.1 megs)
Depart Key West on US Highway 1 heading north.
South of Miami, enter Interstate 95 heading north.
Exit I-95 onto Florida A1A heading north.
Arrive Fort Lauderdale.
(c) 2001 Thomas N. Engler Revision Date: 05/02/2001 revised
10/28/01
