The morning was full of more laps between the clubhouse and my flooded campsite. Not only was the tent soaked, but it was covered in mud. I had just enough quarters to throw my entire wardrobe in the dryer (they got a good rinse the night before…plus I didn’t have the money to wash them), and while I waited for the clothes to dry, I did the best I could to clean off the tent.

I said goodbye to my French neighbors and hit the road back to US 1. I couldn’t find Jimmy, but I smiled at his place as I pulled away.

The first leg of my ride that morning was a little hectic. After I made 10 miles or so dodging curbs, traffic, and road shrapnel, I decided to fuel up. I didn’t feel like eating a soggy PB no J, so I decided to treat myself to breakfast at Wendy’s. It was good, and it was cheap. I found an outlet in the wall, so I plugged in and sat down to the only other patrons in the entire restaurant. They had seen me pull up, and they immediately started asking me about my trip. Very nice couple–from Indiana. The man couldn’t believe that I wasn’t carrying a gun, and his wife just patted my shoulder as they left and said that I better call my mother every night.

An older lady sat down near us, as well, and she joined in the conversation. Her name was Joyce, and she was really impressed by my journey. The three of them helped me to navigate my next stop, and they told me there were some camp grounds a little north of Boca Raton, which happened to be where I was planning on heading that day. The Indiana couple left, and Joyce and I continued to enjoy our breakfast. She was a very sweet, old lady, and we talked about her son who does orthopedic surgery for the Airforce and who spent time in Bethesda. Then she reverted back to my journey, and she gave me some input on the Keys. She asked for my name, so I told her, and she said that she was going to write about me in her diary. I said I was going to do the same thing with her. As I got up to leave, she handed me $5. She said she wanted to help, and the least she could do was buy me breakfast. My goodness.

The rest of the morning miles were pretty uneventful, until the rains came pouring down again. I saw on the radar that they were coming, but it didn’t look too bad. After a few miles of fighting through it, I found a little shopping center to pull off and take some cover. I also noticed that there was a FedEx store in there.

I figured I’d kill some time, and I made the executive decision to officially lighten my load. I went through all my stuff and took out a bunch of the super-cold gear that I knew I wouldn’t need anymore. I had it all shipped back to Maryland, and when the guy took that stuff into the backroom, it felt…weird. I knew it was going to make the rest of my ride more efficient, and I should be happy to cut weight, but at the same time, it was the first real feeling of the end. So many times I couldn’t imagine this journey ever ending, but it was finally, slowly, starting to happen. Weird.

The rains had subsided by now, and after officially parting ways with some of my gear, I swung down to A1A to make my way south. After about 10 miles, those south winds really started chappin my ass. I decided to cross the bridge back over to US 1 and parallel my route. This way, I’d be further from the water and hopefully it would taper the wind. Maybe it was all in my mind, but I think it helped a little. I was so far in my own head at this point, but either way, my legs kept spinning.

I went through the town of West Palm Beach. One of my father’s best friends, Billy David, lives there, and he had given me his card in case I needed a place to stay. It would have been a pretty short day if I decided to stop there, so I figured I would just pass through and keep truckin.

Right near the center of town, I had to go this weird route to stay on 1 South. I messed up a few turns, but I finally found myself back on it. I started to get up to cruising speed, and I saw this gentleman in a pink shirt and blazer pull out of a restaurant in front of me. He stopped and let me keep cruising, and I looked at him and waved. Then I did a double take and almost wiped out. He took a right and passed me. For some reason, I always remember that Billy drove a Jag, and he has told me some pretty amazing war stories. Well the car that passed me was a dark green Jag, with a military license plate. The light up ahead was red and I put my head down and sprinted. I got to the light and found him in the line of cars. I shouted his name and waved my arms; he looked over, and I saw it click. We laughed and shouted and finally decided to meet in a parking lot up the way. So we did, and the whole thing was so surreal. Out of all the people in that crowded little town, and at that time of day, on that road, after I had made a few wrong turns, it was too much. We caught up, and then Billy gave me all the cash he had as a donation to my cause. Absolutely incredible.

We parted ways and I kept heading south. I had another 20 miles or so to Boca Raton. I used to race lifeguards from Boca Raton. They were always really good in the water, but none of them could run. I jumped in the water and realized why: there is absolutely no reason why you would ever want/have to get out of it. It’s perfect, even in December.

This part of Florida was pretty populated, and there weren’t that many campgrounds nearby, much less an empty spot on the beach where I could sneak on and camp out. But I had done a search and found a few campgrounds in that area. As I got closer, I decided to give them a call and reserve a tent site. The first one said that they only did RV’s, no camping. So did the second. And the third. I exhausted every campground in the area, and none of them would take me–I even tried the “I’ve come all the way from DC” move but I got nothing. Stealth camping on the beach that night wasn’t in the cards, mainly due to all the cops driving around and all the huge waterfront hotels.

I was stuck. I finally broke down and got a hotel for the night. I kind of had to, and once I flopped onto the bed, I figured I should stop sulking about it and enjoy my wonderful (but expensive) sleeping arrangements. I even got to do my laundry–not just put everything in the dryer. It was really nice to wash those bike shorts that I’d worn for four days straight.

I made Ramen in the parking lot–didn’t want to set off any alarms–and then I strolled around the water front as I waited for my dinner to cool off. It was a pretty cool little area, and I cruised around trying to get some shots, but they all ended up too dark.

I tried to use their computer to do some blogging, but the thing was ancient and kept re-routing me to the hotel reservation page. I bailed and went upstairs to catch some Z’s. Caught them pretty easily.