June 8, 2008: Panama City to Apalachicola, FL - Smashing Pumpkin-man

We were on the road at first light after an unexciting breakfast at Omelet-World or some such. The GPS wanted to route us on a multi-turn shortcut, but given the early Sunday hour and relative lack of traffic, we all agreed to take the easier option of just sticking to US-98 out of town. We had gone only a couple of miles when I noticed that Mike's rear tire looked low. I suggested he check it at our first stop, but Fred thought it best to stop right away. The tire was, in fact, very soft, but not flat. Ray and Mike got it inflated properly and we had no more problems with it today. In fact, as you might expect, the bike rode so much faster that Mike was happily cruising along at speeds considerably higher than his proclaimed comfort zone. I don't think I mentioned that his bike computer was rendered non-functional during transport from Colorado, so he never knows speed or distance unless he asks someone else.

Just before getting to the bridge out of Panama City, we spotted a cyclist ahead of us, wearing a bright orange safety vest thing. We were feeling a little frisky, so we all blew past him on the bridge. Normally Mike takes it easy on the bridges, but in this instance he hung with the group. As we came off the other side of the bridge, however, I noticed that the other rider had latched onto our line. Pumpkin-Man (PM), as he came to be known, quickly worked his way up the line, exchanging a few words but not showing appropriate interest or respect for our undertaking. Most local riders we have encountered have been friendly and make us feel good with their wishes of good fortune or expressions of amazement or something of the sort. PM continued past us and we settled back into a 16 mph pace for the ride ahead. At this time Ray was at the front and he made a comical, exaggerated motion as if he were going to run down PM again, when he started moving off ahead of us. The guy got maybe two or three hundred yards ahead of us, but that's where the gap stayed.

By this time Ray had been up front for around 15 miles, so I moved up to lead position to give him a break. Ray was focused on the rabbit up the road and noticed him looking back to see where we were. "Oh, he's dead meat. He's done for! We've got him now! NEVER look back!" snarled Ray, apparently detecting the smell of blood in the water. Almost immediately thereafter, he relayed the message, "Mike says to pick it up one mile per hour."

"Really?" I replied. "OK." I picked up the pace to maybe 16.5 or 17, which was enough to slowly close the gap.

A minute later I hear, "Mike wants to pick it up another notch."

"REALLY??" Mike is generally requesting to slow down, not speed up, but I took this as permission -- nay, a COMMAND -- to shut down the disrepectful Pumpkin Man. Now on the aero-bars, I reached down and clicked into the next higher gear and started shoveling coal into the furnace. The boys did the same, and the predator theme from "Jaws" began to throb from the trees on each side of the road as we took to the hunt in earnest. It did not take long before we came up behind and then alongside our prey. Like the spider to the fly, I turned and said conversationally, not at all out of breath, "So, how far are you going?"

Flushed and panting, aware that his destiny (pumpkin pie) was sealed, he choked out, "Just to the next turnaround."

"Oh. OK. Well, see ya'. Feel free to jump on the back, if you want." Hee, hee. Like there's any chance you could!

We surged on past, licking the pumpkin juice off our lips, as poor little pumpkin boy diminished to a dot and then disappeared completely in our rear-views. We continued pumping away at 18 mph for about 10 miles before I gave up the front, someone realized that we were overdue for a break, and we found a shady spot. Ray's claws and fangs were still red -- or should I say, orange -- from the kill and he was still high from the thrill of the chase and the result. I believe he has missed having the chance to humiliate his running challengers while preparing for and participating in the TdF, so today's experience was a special treat for him. (For those who don't know, Ray is a top competitor in his age group in long distance running races, especially the gruelling Pike's Peak Marathon. He is relatively new to bicycling, and it is not his main sport, but his extreme fitness makes him a very strong cyclist nonetheless.)

Back on the road, we kept up a decent pace for the remainder of the 62 mile ride, finishing with an average speed of 15.2 or something like that. There was a price to be paid, however, as my right knee started aching for the first time during the entire tour. I have been dosing NSAIDs and icing it; hopefully it will not be a problem for the remaining three days.

Apalachicola has developed pretty nicely in the decades since my last visit. There are a couple of blocks of nice little shops, some pretty B&B's, and, of course, some wonderful places to gorge on oysters, if that is your thing. We got in pretty early, so our rooms were not ready. We proceeded into town, and found a seafood restaurant on the waterfront to have lunch. Both Fred and Ray wolfed down two dozen oysters ($3.99/dozen) that were literally brought in from the boat after the orders were placed. Both declared them to be exceptional. My salad with grilled shrimp was less so, but we had a heap of fun over our beers, reliving the demise of the pumpkin.

Tonight we are staying at a very new and nice Best Western at the edge of town. It is a welcome change after last night's dreary Motel 6. We are also, at long last, on Eastern time. The end of journey is truly drawing near.