Day 046 – Kingsland GA, > Little Talbot State Park, FL

Today was a big day in that I entered Florida the state that contains Key West, the southern most point in my journey, and a major milestone of my trip. The big question facing me in the morning was – how to get around the bridge that is closed on US 17? Take the 40 mile detour west to the next bridge across St. Marys River at Folkston, GA; get a lift from someone down I-95; or get on at the last entrance before the bridge on I-95 and pedal like mad until the next exit that puts me back onto US 17? Yep. I rode my bicycle for two miles down I-95. It wasn’t bad at all. The Interstate actually felt safer than 17 since the shoulder was the size of an actual lane. I did ride past two cops sitting at the fruit inspection zone just inside Florida, but they couldn’t be bothered to give me chase.

I got onto A1A at Yulee and headed east to Fernandina Beach for lunch. Like everyday for the past couple of weeks it was hot, hot, hot, but it was nice to see the azure blue water and white sand of the beach with a beer in hand on the deck of Sliders Sea Side Grill. My server was named Red and it just so happened that I ordered a blackened red fish sandwich as I told her about my adventures at the Treehouse Hostel. I’ve been telling everyone about the Treehouse Hostel – you reading this right now should figure out a way to get there and stay for a couple of days…if you don’t mind pooping into a sawdust bucket. It’s worth it.

After fueling up and spending a few extra hours in the air-conditioned bar updating the past few days of the blog I headed back out into the heat to head southward to Little Talbot Island State Park. I rode through the middle of Amelia Island and lots of planned communities and resorts with a few miles of bicycle/walking paths along A1A. Before I forget – there was a ferry for a short period of time that went from St. Marys, GA to Fernandina Beach, FL, but it wasn’t profitable so they discontinued it. It would be great if they found a way to put something back in service. Even if they used Cumberland Island as a connector. I’ve heard that St. Marys is a cute town and it’s possible to camp on Cumberland Island and see wild horses and all kinds of other great stuff. I would have taken the time to check it out and camp for a night, but the passenger ferry that goes there doesn’t allow bicycles and leaving my stuff behind was a non-starter.

I arrived at Little Talbot Island Camp Ground around 3 PM, got camp set-up and hit the beach. There weren’t a lot of people out (about 20), but it was nice to finally get into the sea water. I swam around for a half hour before sitting in my favorite portable chair (Alite Mantis) in the world and then dozing off. At some point I’m going to put together a list of gear I’ve brought on the trip. Most of the selections have worked out really well. The chair folds up into a bag the size of a loaf of bread and I can sit in it for hours working on my laptop without getting sore. I woke up after while and noticed that someone had turned down the sun and no one was left on the beach. I looked behind me to see a gathering storm quickly moving in from the northwest and decided it was a good idea to head back to camp and make sure my tent and drying clothes were secured.

I battened down the hatches just in time for the rain to begin and laid in my tent for a while as it passed. By that time it was 8:00 PM and I was getting hungry so I decided to ride my bike 5 miles south to a restaurant the park ranger told me about called Sandollar Restaurant and Marina. Since it was getting dark I took my headlamp and blinky lights for the ride back and hit the road. As soon as I got out of the campground I saw a perfect full rainbow with a partial double rainbow (pic) on the west side against a copper colored sky with the storm receding south in the direction I was riding. It was amazingly beautiful. During the ride there were horizontal flashes of lightening through the middle of the rainbow. Unfortunately I couldn’t get a picture of that, but it was a sight to see.

After polishing off a nice plate of seafood alfredo I befriended some of the restaurant staff and ended up closing the place down and then sitting down on their back deck for a couple of hour talking about life. Often when I talk about my trip the idea of personal protection comes up – i.e. are you packing a gun. Honestly I did consider it, but then thought of what situations I would use it and the odds of those situations arising and decided one wasn’t needed. I do have a can of military grade mace and a lot of plastic zip ties in many sizes if the need arises. I also don’t look for trouble and think it would be rare if it found me so I’m not too worried. One of the guys told me he was packing a gun and then pulled out a 5 shot 22 cal pistol about the size of an iPhone, but of course thicker, tucked inside of a small leather holder in his front pocket and said it could take out a watermelon.

He then continued to say he had 11,000 rounds of 22, 5,000 rounds of something else and 2,000 rounds of another caliber bullet. I asked him how long it would take him to go through that much ammo and he said it wasn’t all for shooting. In case society ever gets to the point where we rely on barter he has a lot of very useful barter to get whatever else he needs. I can see the wisdom of his stockpile during an apocalypse, but I also can’t help but think of people I hear about in the news that have large stockpiles of weapons and ammo. It’s usually not a positive news story. For the hour I was talking to him he seemed level headed – well there was the stuff he was staying about the Bible predicting Black Hawk helicopters, but I am assuming he was joking about that. Assuming.

On the way home I couldn’t resist going back to the beach with my head lamp on and wadding into the surf naked – see a trend here.

There were a couple of Atlantic Ghost Crabs on the beach that I started chasing around with my headlamp on to great personal amusement. I got one of them to rear back in fight mode before giving him an opening to scurrying into the surf. They are really, really fast. I’m sure he had a great story to tell their crab friends about the great light from the sky that chased him up and down the beach. Or at least I hope I didn’t freak him out too much. They live under the sand in burrows at the strandline (high water mark) and are most active at night.

It was nice to have the beach to myself, Ghost Crabs aside. The stars were out and I could see lightening flashing off in the distance as the thunderstorm from earlier disappeared over the horizon. Pretty good end to the day.