The Sunshine State

So I’m down here in Florida on vacation. I’m in Wellington, Florida, to be exact and, rather than ship my bike down or invest in a piece of bike luggage, I rented a bike from a place in Palm Beach. To be exact, my girlfriend rented it for me. Rented it for three days, to be even more exact. When a girl doesn’t ride but she rents a bike for you to ride, is that true love? As Kenny Picco said, “Dude, she TOTALLY hooked you up.”

That she did.

Anyway, like I was saying, it’s now December 23rd and I’m in Florida. Been here since Thursday and I’ve been out riding two hours every morning in the lovely Florida weather. No tights. No long-finger gloves. No sweat-wicking caps. Not frosty breath. No constantly dripping nose. No booties. No feet warmers. Every morning I’ve hit the road with my Camelbak, my pump stuffed in the Pump Port, a few granola bars, a few gels, my cell phone, driver’s license, and a couple of bucks. I throw a leg over my rented Trek 2.1 wearing a short-sleeved jersey, a pair of shorts, gloves, a helmet, and that’s it.

And I’m doing all this in the end of December. Who’s better than me?

Apart from riding in eighty-degree weather a few days before Christmas (and as all us northeasterners know, that’s just wrong on so many different levels), the roads down here are not only pristine, but they’re flat as boards and straight as rails. For instance, I’ve been riding from Point A to Point B along Route 441:




As I said, flat as a board and straight as a rail, although 441 does come complete with a bike lane, at least until you hit Boca.

My starting point every morning has been here, this community where the Katzman family (my girlfriend’s family, obviously) lives . . .



. . . which is this far from the beach.



When we first rented the bike, I started from Palm Beach and followed the following route:



Nice ride along the water, but A1A is only a two-lane road, so I had a fair amount of traffic bearing down on me from behind.

But then I made a right there on 802 and started heading west when (a) a few drops of rain began falling from the sky, (b) the neighborhood demographics changed from over-the-top mansions along A1A to considerably smaller haciendas and plenty of Dos Amigos convenient stores, and (c) I began to encounter a sweltering headwind, but hey, if you don’t have hills, the least you can do is ride into a headwind, right?

And that was it. That was the trip. Sure, I probably could have been a bit more adventurous and made a few more left and rights, but when all the streets are straight and flat, what’s the point? I would basically leave the Katzman compound, head south on 441 for an hour or so and then turn around and return to the Katzman compound to find my girlfriend lounging by the pool. After a quick shower, I’d join, wait for happy hour, have a few drinks, have dinner, maybe do a bit of swimming, and then repeated the following day.

I’m assuming this is how debutantes live. They have their own activity on the side but most of the free time is spent drinking and lounging. Not sure how I feel about that. Put a gun to my head for saying this, but maybe there is something to be said for working.

Jesus, did I really just say that?