Daytona Bike Week, March, 2014
Saturday, March 8th.

We got on the road yesterday morning right on schedule, hitting I-95 at 10 o'clock. The temperature had risen to about 52° by then. Traffic looked pretty light as we rolled down the highway. I noticed along the sides of the road the amount of damage the ice storm a few weeks back had caused. In the median there were a lot of downed branches, and off on the right side beyond the shoulder were cut-off trees that had apparently fallen across the road.

As we approached the Santee Lake area (50 miles into the trip), we hit our first slowdown, as we saw our first "Left Lane Closed" sign. For three miles before the lane closed, traffic backed up, and we crawled past a group of workers with chain saws, clearing out the debris from the median. At least it wasn't just us -- I saw the same slowdown in the Northbound lanes as well.

Another back up after we passed I-26, and we crawled along for several miles, never finding out what caused the slowdown in the first place. All in all, it cost us more than an hour, and we hadn't even left South Carolina. Great start, eh?

We took our first hundred-mile break at Walterboro (I enforce a hundred-mile break on longer bike runs -- keeps you from getting too tired), at the same exit as we always seem to take. The BP station we used to hit was now empty -- seems like a lot of stations come and go -- and we stopped at Zaxby's for a quick lunch, before gassing up and heading out again.

Within 10 miles of the Georgia border, we hit another slowdown, where they had begun to put up the signs for road work. As we moved slowly along, we came across a set of vehicle tracks in the median, that looked like a big truck had made them, then traveled back onto the road, evidenced by the mud tracks it left. Amazingly, as soon as we passed them, traffic began moving again. Are you kidding?!? Rubbernecking for tire tracks?

The temperature was rising as we moved on, into the 60's, then all the way to 72°. As we crossed the border into Georgia, I-95 adds a third lane, allowing the traffic to speed up. But, traffic was strange -- crowded, with drivers seeming not to know what a speed limit is. In a 70 mph zone, we alternated between 65 and 85 miles per hour, never being able to stay on cruise for very long. As it turned out, I was the one who needed to take the next break about 220 miles into the trip. Between being too warm and the traffic being what it was, I need to get off and stretch, open the vents on my  jacket to allow air to flow, and change out my gloves for lighter weight ones.

Traffic speeds remained inconsistent as we rolled towards Jacksonville, Linda' nemesis. Don't get me wrong: traveling through Jacksonville is a pain. I-95 actually makes a hard left turn in the middle of town, and it is always bumper-to-bumper at 75 mph. Kind of like Atlanta.

We chose to take the bypass instead, something we hadn't done in 5 years. The signage is much better now, and I wasn't fooled this time by the exit that promised to take us "to I-95." It takes you to the street roads, directly into Jacksonville, about halfway around. The bridge over the St. Johns river rises at about a 15° angle as it climbs towards the sky, then plummets down to a causeway to complete its path across. Back onto I-95, and moving towards Daytona, the traffic continued to fluctuate, never really maintaining a nice, easy flow, the number of cars seeming to increase.

One more slowdown as a vehicle had a flat tire within a construction zone with concrete walls on either side and no shoulder for them to pull off. We had already pushed past the hundred mile break, but we wanted to get out of the Jacksonville area before stopping. We finally exited on US-1, about 30 miles north of Ormond Beach. Linda was down to about an 8th of a tank by then.

It was around 4:30, and we decided to finish up on US-1 instead of going back to the madhouse that is I-95, and what we lost in speed we made up for in comfort. 65 miles per hour with light traffic was just fine. When we reached the I-95 exit we normally take, it was crowded but moving just fine, until we arrived just north of Iron Horse Saloon.

Traffic at Iron Horse is always busy during Bike Week. There's a camp ground just across the street, where many of the bikers stay. Add the souvenir shops to the mix, and there are thousands of vehicles and dozens of police cars all packed into a very small footprint. We stayed in the left lane and I duck-walked the bike for about a half-mile before the road opened up, and we traveled the remaining 3 miles to the Granada Street turn. Over the bridge, turn on Atlantic Ave, and the hotel was a half-mile ahead. We hit the entrance about 5 o'clock, 7 hours after leaving, the longest ride we've taken.

My first words? "Honey, we're home!"

We checked in, emptied the bikes and dumped everything in the room (top floor, ocean view), then jumped on the trike together and headed to the Publix for supplies -- coffee (Keurig pods), water (not using the tap water, thank you), and half-and-half. We found San Sebastian wines on sale, cheaper than what we paid at the winery, and we got a nice wine carry bag free as well!

It was dark by the time we got back to the hotel. We put everything away, then went across the street to the German restaurant. The pierogies and stuffed cabbage, with sauerkraut and sour cream (those Germans are a sour bunch, aren't they?) were delicious, and washing them down with a few Spaten dark beers was a treat.

It was a hard ride today, but nothing too challenging. I'm proud of Linda. She really hasn't ridden a lot since here surgery in May, and I was afraid she would struggle with this. But she handled the ride exceptionally well.

We'll see what today brings. I understand that the Blues Brothers are supposed to be at Iron Horse today. Hope it's not the originals!