Well, I did not wake up to a very promising day! Overcast and cool, but at least no prediction of rain . . . although you could have fooled me by the looks of it. So to test the "waters," I forwent the free breakfast offered by the hotel in favor of the adjacent Waffle House. I was in no rush today . . . only about 38 or so miles to Pensacola Beach, where I will be staying at a friend's house for two days "managing" the replacement of the HVAC system that went kaput in January during his last visit from Richmond. Of course, I was hoping for at least "sit-out-on-the-deck" weather . . . we'll see.
So a somewhat filling breakfast, a later start, and a stop for lunch at the midpoint. The house is relatively remote, so by arriving a bit later, I can hold off going out again until dinner. As it turned out, I didn't really push off until closer to 10:30, but I did so with a strong tailwind. I hope it lasts!
I imagine you could bike the entire length of Santa Rosa Island and almost get to Pensacola Beach. But the road ends about a half mile from the road to Navarre Beach . . . and that's a long hike over sand dunes pushing a loaded touring bike! So after passing through Okaloosa Island, I crossed my second big bridge of the day over to Fort Walton Beach.
The bridge has no shoulder to speak of, so I chose to ride on the sidewalk — word of caution here in high winds. In this case, the wind was coming from my right, so there was a tendency to push me off the curb . . . especially with unexpected gusts!
Fort Walton Beach is nothing to write home about . . . although running US-98/FL-30 through the heart of town doesn't help matters much. Traffic was heavy, but at least there are parking lanes you can bike on. Eventually, though, even those drop away, and I opted for the sidewalk, which is a mixed bag of poor maintenance, dips and bumps, potholes, uneven surfaces, and other disrepair. And in some places, there's no curb ramp, so if you're not careful, you may go over the curb at the end of the street.
US-98/FL-30 through Fort Walton Beach and, later, a town called Mary Esther . . . a bit weird. But later I read it was named by the city's first postmaster, John Newton, after his two daughters.
And US-98/FL-30 returned to its typical cross section of open highway with a shoulder that was eventually marked as a bike lane (note the double white lines).
I was, by now, close to halfway to Pensacola Beach, so thoughts of lunch popped into my head. I knew once I crossed to the island there would be slim pickings, so as I closed in on the next crossing, I eyed my selection of fast-food joints (on a highway like this, what you will likely get) and opted for a Taco Bell. I was in the mood for tacos . . . and a burrito.
From there, it was relatively easy to navigate myself across the bridge, although being on the right shoulder bike lane, I opted for a right turn, then a left turn, and finally crossed US-98 with a green light (as opposed to jumping multiple lanes to the left turn lane).
Looking down the gauntlet and deciding on my next move. Of course, I wasn't moving anywhere unless the car behind me pulled up to trip the signal! After missing one cycle and some coaxing on my part, they figured it out and pulled up closer behind, and we got a green signal shortly thereafter.
The ride to Pensacola is "interrupted" by Gulf Islands National Seashore, a very quiet, seven-mile stretch marked by natural sand formations and no development. Here, the bike trail disappears, but there is a wide shoulder to ride along.
And finally, my home for two days. I have a long page of step-by-step instructions to follow to get this house up and running! And tomorrow, HVAC duty!
