Days 34 & 35: So long, Texas! Howdy Louisiana!

Today, after nineteen days of riding in Texas, we crossed the Sabine River into Louisiana.  Even better we have the great pleasure of being in a hotel!  A shower and toilet just for us two!  How could I ever have thought camping made any sense at all?

Our RV park last night was one of the worst ever.  Within a stone's throw of a busy four lane highway, hot, buggy and crowded.  The clincher happened at about 8:00 pm when a municipal vehicle rumbled through the park spewing a great cloud of choking, gagging mosquito spray!  This, apparently, is common practice in these parts and given the high number of bugs that managed to get into our tent anyway, I shudder to think how bad it would be without the toxic sprays....

Our ride this morning began with 30 miles on the same loathsome road that roared by our tents last night.  It was Route 96 north, and had a decent shoulder although lined with trash and animal remains.  Fortunately there was a slight tailwind and the miles passed quickly.  Our route then turned east and was slightly better although the winds less helpful.

You will see from the picture that I am now having knee trouble.  The first twinges came last week when we left Kerrville but I was able to ignore them for several days.  Yesterday the pain was more troublesome so we stopped at a CVS and got a knee brace.  It still hurts some but I was able to keep riding. We are now in De Witter, Louisiana. Tomorrow is a very long ride to Opelousas.

Days 35 & 36: De Ridder, Opelousas, Jackson

Yesterday the 91 mile ride from De Ridder to Opelousas was long and difficult with strong crosswinds and headwinds most of the way.  It might have been nice if we had had energy to look around much because we were riding through crayfish ponds and rice fields but we were so exhausted that we could only think of the miles.  I had left De Ridder ahead of John and stressing about the miles didn't even get off my bike at the first two SAGS.  That meant that I had to ride sixty miles without food or drink but finally met up with John in a restaurant in Mamou, Louisiana where we shared a Big Mamou" sandwich and some gumbo.  We were incredibly happy to get to a Comfort Inn in Opelousas and had a great night's rest.

Today was a wonderfully eventful and interesting ride-- the kind of ride I have been hoping for although it has had a bad ending.  We started with a 20 mile ride on a rather bad highway to the beginning of the Achafalya Swamp.  Because there was a very long and narrow bridge with no shoulder at all, Bubba decided to SAG all of us for 7.4 miles.  This was not a smooth operation but eventually we were all on the other side of the swamp and biked off again.  The crosswind was very annoying but we knew we were turning north in 12 miles (on LA Route 1) and at the point the wind was at our back.  We flew along and soon we were beside "False River", an oxbow that was once the main course of the Mississippi River-- cut off in 1722 by heavy rains.  This was a lovely ride with beautiful homes on both sides of the long narrow "lake".

Eventually we ended up on Route 10 east, heading toward the Mississippi.  The shoulder was great and with the wind at my back I was wheeling along merrily when suddenly I lost my focus and found myself in the weeds.  Having my hands in the center of the handlebars I was unable to brake and lurched along crazily through the tall grass, still hardly slowing at all.  Eventually, however, I thought I could turn slightly and regain the road.  In the attempt I hit the edge of the road and went flying down-- so much so that a passing truck stopped to see if I had survived.  Through great good luck I was shaken but not a bit hurt and was soon able to get back up and begin riding again.  This is actually the second time I have fallen spectacularly enough to make passing traffic stop-- I didn't mention the first time because I was stopped and taking a picture at the time and it was really nothing.  John happened to see my crazy ride through the weeds in his rear view mirror and had some bad moments waiting for me to gather my wits about me.

So, off we went again and soon, for the second time in two years, John and I bicycled across the Mississippi River.  This time it was on a new bridge-- the Audubon Bridge, just opened in 2010.  A beautiful bridge and certainly a memorable bicycling moment.

Our destination was "Perry's Bicycle Hostel" at mile 68.something.  I was horrified at first to find that there was only one shower for ALL OF US (45 people) but we set up a very sociable waiting line for the shower with beer and chat.  The shower was outdoors, with no dressing room and I saw a cute male butt and imagine that glimpses of my far less cute butt were to be had, but there was warm water and eventually we were all clean.

In the meantime Perry's son-in-law and two friends were doing a massive crayfish "boil"-- 250 pounds of them!  They had huge pots, huge propane tanks and burners and told me that they do boils every weekend.  They throw corn, heads of garlic, potatoes, lemons, onions and spices in with the crayfish and then spread the whole heap on long tables.  Riders and staff were picking for hours-- there is only a small amount of meat per crayfish-- you can eat scores of them and not feel full.

A bit squeamish  about all this pulling off of crayfish heads, I ate only a few that John picked for me (as well as some of the corn, potatoes and a whole head of boiled garlic ) and joined a few riders who had chosen to drink "mudslides" and listen to Cajun music on a sound system that was set up-- we all had a wonderful time and got sufficiently tipsy to dance.  Suddenly, however, at about 7:00 our hostess, Perry, began shouting at us saying that this was her home, not a public campground, and that we had to be quiet.  Her husband was trying to calm her but to no avail.   We were all instantly obedient and the music was turned off but apparently having such a large group here took her out of her comfort level.  Our information board listed toilet availability (very limited and apparently at least one in her private area) but in her anger she flounced over and erased all the toilet info, so we have no where to go  but in the trees.

I retreated to the tent to get away from the conflict but John reconnoitered  returned and reported that instead of staying here tomorrow for a planned rest day we are packing up and going to a motel!  Yikes!

Days 37 & 38: St. Francisville to Franklinton

Bait Shack in Louisiana:  Note deer looking out windows

There has been lots of talk and speculation about what happened at Perry's Bicycle Hostel night before last.  It seems clear in retrospect that Perry (a woman) was unprepared for the invasion of Bubba and his entourage.  Consider this:  We have a huge Penske truck to carry the luggage and tents.  We have a smaller Penske truck for the food and cooking equipment.  We have a sixteen passenger van towing a loaded trailer.  We have a Dodge Caravan operating as a SAG vehicle and mechanic's transport.  We have another SUV  towing a trailer.  We have Ken and Jean (massage and laundry) also towing a trailer.  We have Bubba's huge "Avalanche" truck towing an R.V.  We are 33 riders and 11 staff with 31 bicycles (two tandems).  When we descend on a location we make a big impact and lots of noise, particularly in blowing up some 40 air mattresses.  Perry operates a "warm shower" spot.  This means that she is on the Adventure Cycling maps as a place where a cyclist can get a shower and a place to tent in return for a gratuity.  She had one outdoor shower, one outdoor sink and one toilet in an outbuilding.  Most cyclists come in small groups and maintain a low profile.  Our group does anything but.  From the things people have said, Perry was overwhelmed as soon as cyclists and vehicles began to arrive, and snapped, for no apparent reason, at about 6:30.  

While Perry did not explicitly "throw us out", her behavior, particularly with regard to eliminating our toilet options, suggested that she wanted to see us gone.  One source suggests that Bubba got us out of there in order to preserve his options for future years but I can't imagine that he would ever take a group there again or that she would ever agree to host his riders.  In any case, since Bubba had planned a rest day at Perry's and since the day turned out to be rainy, it was a great thing to spend our time in a very comfortable Best Western instead. 

As instructed, we got up in the morning, packed up, and rode to Oakley Plantation.  Oakley is of  particular historic value because John James Audubon went there in 1821 and did 22 of his famous bird paintings during his stay.  He was hired as a tutor for a daughter of the house, with afternoons free for his nature studies and paintings.  The arrangement was not a huge success it seems, because he stayed only a few months, but it put Oakley on the map.  The plantation stayed in the family from 1799 until 1947 when it was sold to the state and because of that most of the furnishings are original.  It had been little modernized (no electricity for example) so did not require extensive renovation.  The tour guide was great and the house and grounds were gorgeous.  Unfortunately our walk around the grounds was cut short by rain and we still had five miles to ride to the motel.  

The cost for our luxurious night at the BW (yes, there is always a cost!) is that to get there we rode about 10 miles in the wrong direction-- in other words WEST!  That brought the mileage today up to 85 miles-- and while I was happy to make the trade in theory, the extra ten miles weighed heavily at the end of the ride.  Our route today was really great-- good roads and pastoral landscape.  The flaw (does there always have to be a flaw?), is that it rained heavily for the last forty miles. By the time John and I got here we were soaked right through to our innards.  We are now in a Baptist Church in Franklinton and what a church it is.  Although most sections of it are locked off to us, we can see that it stretches out for acres.  Our part is a gymnasium and attached locker rooms, plus common room and cooking area.  


Tomorrow we cross the line into Mississippi.  

Days 39 & 40: Franklinton, Poplarville and VanCleave, MIssissippi

"I want to ride this road forever and I'm dying to go home..."

A line in a song by Eliza  Gilkeyson that perfectly encompasses the paradox of being out here-- on a daily level I begin by loving the ride and end anxious to finish.  In the greater scheme of things I know I have finally rediscovered the joy of the bicycle at the same time as wishing we were back in Maine.

Mississippi has been a big surprise.  My last blog post described our soaking wet ride from St. Francisville to Franklinton, Louisiana.  The next morning dawned crisp and clear.  In 20 miles we were out of Louisiana and over the Pearl River into Mississippi.  The road was awful-- heavy traffic with a rumble strip and no shoulder, so we were forced to ride in the vehicle lane.  Bubba came through for us, however, getting us off that road in less than four miles and the rest of the day was pure delight.  Back roads with almost no traffic and a wonderful short (48 mile) ride to a really nice R.V. park.

A nice R.V. park?  Yes, it is possible-- although this one appears to be in the last stages of dying.  Three (!) toilets with showers, no interstate highway roaring past, no trains hooting by in the night, not even many R.V. tenants.  The buildings are deteriorating and it is clear that the proprietor is about to call it quits but it was a pretty spot with lots of room for tents. We had a lovely afternoon in the "Pamper Zone",  a good dinner, and a lovely cool evening for sleeping

Today's ride was 70 miles.  The entire thing was on great roads.   Bird song instead of truck noise, perfect temperatures, insignificant wind and lovely scenery.  Both Louisiana and Mississippi have important timber industry (who knew?), so the ride alternated between beautiful pine forests and pastoral grazing lands.  In 70 miles we went through no towns-- the only line markers were for counties-- Pearl River, Stone and Jackson.  The place we have ended up is a town called VanCleave but it is pretty much just a dot on the map.  In fact, that is our only complaint for the day-- as the woman said, "I doan bleeve there's ennyplace in VanCleave ta git ice cream".

Now we are in yet another nice R.V. park.  Will wonders never cease?

Day 41: VanCleave MS to Dauphin Island, Alabama

River in Mississippi with Cypress trees

Bait crickets for sale at a country store in Mississippi

Bridge to Dauphin Island

An eventful day during which we rode 70ish miles to Dauphin Island.  Everything on this ride is becoming "ish".  Coffee at 6ish, miles at 70ish.  I started out with a flat at precisely 2.64 miles but fortunately John was right behind me to change it.  The process took long enough, however, that for the first time ever on this ride we were dead last.  We were able to catch up before long-- happily for me because I stress about being last.  John is calm and serene wherever he is.

The roads were rural at first but became busier as we went on and eventually we were on a reasonably bad road-- smooth but with no shoulder and lots of traffic.  John and I have been negligent about wearing our blaze yellow vests but decided it was a good time to put them on.  This showed some foresight because at about mile 35 we heard that one of our riders had been hit by a truck.

Needless to say there were feelings of distress through the group so we were relieved to learn that he was not badly hurt.   He was actually hit by the mirror of a bakery delivery truck and rode off the road before spilling over into the weeds.  The truck driver stopped and was full of remorse and an off duty policeman was next on the scene and called 911.  He ended up with a bruised but not broken shoulder, a small ding on his forehead from where his own mirror hit him and overall soreness.Whether a couple of days will see him back on his bike is not yet known.

I found the last thirty miles somewhat tedious because the terrain was very flat and straight.  Also slightly surreal because we were riding next to some kind of wide ditch or canal in which were several half sunken small boats-- along with the many closed, abandoned and dilapidated buildings we have passed, these strengthened our general sense that rural America is in decay.

Dauphin Island is charming, however, and this campground is lovely with lots of big twisty trees, plenty of room for tents and a nice enclosed rec hall where we will undoubtedly spend the upcoming rainy afternoon.

Day 42: Rest Day on Dauphin Island

Ambassadors for the City of Mobile with John and Terry.

The ten hole latrine at Fort Gaines, Dauphin Island

This looked like an improvement to the toilets we have been getting but then I learned that it served 400 men so I guess our ratio of 2 to 45 is actually better!  It was a clever design, opening onto the beach so that it was cleaned out twice a day at high tide.  

Our rest day was great and very restful.  We toured the fort and the Dauphin Island Sea Lab and went for a walk on the beach and tried to get ourselves psyched up for the last few days of riding.  

Day 43: Dauphine Island to Milton, Florida

Palm trees in the wind by the ferry

This promised to be a long and very hard day.  Severe winds were forecast and we had to begin the day with a ferry ride across Mobile Bay.  There was much head scratching and pondering on the part of the ferry crew before they decided that it wouldn't do to leave thirty some bicyclists in the lurch.  So on we got and off we went with the wind blowing like crazy.  (It is hard to take a picture of wind but you can see the waving of the palm fronds in the top picture.)

Much to our amazement, as soon as we left the shelter of the harbor, the waves began to crash up on the edges of the ferry, so much so that the people standing up on the observation deck in the picture got wet.  The ferry dipped and lurched and the waves came right up onto the floor.  It was certainly the most thrilling ferry ride of my lifetime... and although I was not afraid, I was at the margins of my comfort level and there were others on the boat who found the experience quite stressful.

The ferry trip meant that we didn't begin an 85 mile ride until close to nine and with the wind gusting capriciously at up to 30 knots we knew there was a challenge ahead.  On the other hand, the riding was lovely along the shoreline through Fort Morgan and Gulf Shores and there were some trees to shelter us from the wind.  At about mile 32 we crossed the line into our eighth and final state, Florida.  Our route took us along Perdido Key, lined for many miles with huge resort hotels and condos--  like a linear Las Vegas.  Next was a bit of fiddling around as we took a southern route around Pensacola and then a very scenic ride along the Pensacola  Bluffs.  Finally we joined our old "frenemy" Route 90 and headed north to Milton.  Route 90 in Florida is a great improvement over the same road in Texas.  The shoulder was great, the traffic and speed limit reasonable.  Nevertheless, it was after six when I finally arrived at the campground-- more than nine hours on the road.  Temperatures in the last few days have been cool and the nights wonderful for sleeping.  Any bugs that might think about feasting on us are being blown away by the winds.

Days 44 & 45: Milton to DeFuniak Springs to Marianna, Florida

Bubba Barron

Writing this a day later, I find I can remember nothing about yesterday's ride.  It was only about 53 miles, the weather was nice, the road was fine.  Perhaps the most memorable thing was John's lunch...barbecued pork on top of tater tops with cheese melted over the whole thing.  We ended up at a very nice R.V. park, certainly the nicest of our trip, although they seem to get better the further east we ride.  The park ladies catered dinner for us-- or I should say for the others-- since my vegetarian meal was the usual enchiladas and spanish rice (good ones, I must say).  I did eat their speciality-- sweet potatoes wrapped in dough with a caramel sauce and pecans-- no it wasn't dessert, just part of the meal.

Looked better in real life.

So here we are in Florida and we froze to death in the night.  The internet said that it was 37 degrees in DeFuniak Springs and 46 in Belfast, Maine at about 7:00 this morning.  The ladies made a breakfast that was as good as dinner the night before and we headed off on a 67 mile ride.

The highlight of the ride was the town of DeFuniak Springs.  It is said to be one of only two natural and perfectly round springs in the WORLD!  It looked like a pond to me-- quite large and very beautiful.  Located on this body of water is the oldest functioning library in Florida-- that is to say built as a library and still being used as such.

The part of the building that shows is the original part but they have added on very cleverly to the back and down the bank toward the water so that the library is much bigger than it appears.  The library director came along just as we arrived and showed us around-- a very nice library and one of which the town is very proud.

Otherwise, not much to say about the ride...again good road, good shoulder, nice unexciting scenery.  We were promised a tailwind but it didn't really materialize.  I saw for the first time in the whole ride a "Romney for President" sign.

Day 46: Marianna to somewhere west of Tallahassee

This picture was actually taken a couple of days ago but there wasn't much to take a picture of today.  Florida has finally turned the heat on but it was an okay ride with enough breeze to keep us from overheating.  The ride was only 57 miles and there is not much to say about it.  It was amazingly hilly, in fact, the supposed flat ride we were supposed to have after California has never materialized for more than a half day or so.  My Garmin records the number of feet ascended every day and it has never been less than 1000...today was more than 2000.  We are just west of Tallahassee and apparently the ride tomorrow is right through the city and bad enough that  Bubba says we need to ride as a group.  I don't know how he will restrain the early starters...I got up to go to the bathroom this morning at 5:45 and one couple was already heading out.  They almost always leave first and are rarely seen on the road by the other riders.  There is another rider who is so anxious to leave early that she sleeps in her bike clothes.  I guess none of them are desperate for coffee and breakfast.

The high point of today's ride for me was that I managed to get my chain back on without asking John to ride west to help me.  I did have to call him and ask for instructions but with the help of fellow rider Connie, I was on the road again in a few minutes.  Now we have arrived at perhaps the dumpiest, shabbiest R.V. park of the whole trip-- and that after having written recently that the R.V. parks were getting nicer.  This one is not one bit nice-- no picnic tables, no electric outlets, no nice place to get out of the sun.  I am sitting in a stuffy laundry room where there are plugs and a place to put the computer.  Such are the uncertainties of life on the road.

Day 47: Tallahassee to Madison, Florida

This is what happens when you leave your Florida house unattended for too long!

We had an exciting start to the day because Bubba decided to route us through the heart of Tallahassee (thereby saving 22 miles of riding).  This was on Route 90 starting at 7:30 in the morning.  For safety reasons we were convoyed--- a faster group of riders with a lead car and a follow car went first and the slower riders, also between two vehicles, left second.  John went with the faster ones, of whom there were only nine, and they got through quickly.  The slower group was much larger and it didn't go particularly smoothly.  Tallahassee has lots of hills and lots of traffic signals and lots of traffic, particularly during morning rush hour.  The riders got spread out, especially on the hills, and we got separated by traffic lights and it was altogether a nerve wracking experience for 13.5 miles.  I imagine it was even worse for the commuters whose trip was slowed down by our group.  I was really happy when it was over.

Most of the rest of the ride was tedious but smooth riding except when the shoulder did this (i.e. disappeared) and we had to ride the white line for several miles.  We had lunch in Greenville, the home of Ray Charles.  Fortunately, after being deprived of fried food yesterday (bad choice of restaurants) I was able to get the ever popular fried shrimp "po boy" with french fries today and very good it was.  One of the other riders thought she saw a dead leopard by the side of the road and it turns out that there is an expanding leopard population in this area...who knew?  (Others since have suggested it was a panther, not a leopard or a bobcat).   John and I both missed it, in my case perhaps because I was focusing on listening to Dickens ("Our Mutual Friend") while simultaneously avoiding being kicked into the hereafter by a car or truck.

When we reached Madison we were routed onto a very nice bicycle path (unfortunately going north which means that we need to retrace our steps, something we all hate) and after five miles ended up in perhaps the absolutely worst "camping" site of the whole trip.  It is a church camp (again just one shower) and the tents are set up in a hot, dry and dusty field in the scorching sun.   Bubba  has "pampered" us by renting two porta potties.  Yet worse, there is nothing to do here, lots of gnats and fire ants and "absolutely no adult beverages".  Even worse, tomorrow is a rest day so we have two nights here.  Yet again worse, the following riding day will be extremely hot and more than 80 miles long.

 John and I are hatching a plot to leave in the morning, taking what little we can carry on our bikes, ride as far as Live Oak (thereby cutting the next riding day in half), stay in a hotel and generally leave this place behind.

Day 48: Escape from Ant Hell

Roadside flowers

When last I posted we were contemplating an escape from "Ant Hell" and by the time we went to bed we had made a reservation at a Best Western in Live Oak, Florida.  John thought he was being bitten at night and when we got up in the morning we found hundreds of ants in our tent.  Our troubles were slight in comparison to some of the other riders.  Several were bitten all night and eventually gave up and went into the building.  Others stayed in their tents but woke up to find thousands of ants in their hair, their clothing, their luggage, etc.  We were confirmed in our feeling that it was a great time to make tracks for elsewhere.

Using just John's backpack (I carried it) and my big LL Bean purse-like thing (we bungee corded it to John's bike) we carried a set of clothes into which to change, toothbrushes and not much else.  We packed up and hit the road for Live Oak.  Upon arrival we had a great lunch at the famed "Dixie Grill" and moved on to the Best Western-- probably the most marginal BW I have ever stayed at but way better than sleeping with the ants.

This ploy earned us 36 of a supposed 79 mile ride so we were happy to have a relaxed breakfast-- again at the Dixie Grill and hit the road at about ten.  I mentioned earlier that since Pensacola we have been on U.S. Route 90, and despite the fact that it is smoother than it was in Texas, my bad attitude has reared up again.  Great stretches of the road run straight into the horizon-- a characteristic that makes it tedious in the extreme-- the only redeeming factor being the masses of wildflowers on both sides but that is not enough to keep me happy for days.  Fortunately today we were able to leave 90 and ride on local roads that are far more pleasant.

The great aggravation today was that the route was fully seven miles longer than the cue sheet and ended with a mile of road too sandy to properly ride.  One of Bubba's tricks with the cue sheet is to exclude any mileage into or out of a camp site and it is often a mile or more.  While annoyed I got past it pretty quickly but some of the riders are slower to bounce back and there was lots of grousing. The least patient four have gone elsewhere but we are in reasonably nice (and air conditioned) cabins tonight so we had a jolly salmon dinner and all was forgiven.

Tomorrow's ride is purported to be the same as today-- i.e. 79 miles and it will almost certainly be more than that.  Since it is our last full day of riding, I have folded my cue sheet so that I cannot see the miles and I will not let the mileage display on my Garmin.  These measures  are intended to allow me to focus on the pleasures of the ride.  I will let you know how it goes!

Coast 2 Coast: The Last Post

Dereka in John in St. Augustine Florida, 30 April 2012

The final days of the ride rather collapsed on each other and it has taken me a week to get to a wrap-up.  Our next to the last day was an 80 mile ride that I was not particularly looking forward to.  Trying to stay very positive and knowing that I should savor every inch of the last two rides, I fixed my Garmin so that it did not show mileage (although it beeped politely at me every five miles so I did have some idea).  This tactic, somewhat babyish in John's opinion, was a great success.  I reached Palatka in good spirits, even overcoming the great disappointment of learning that the Dairy Queen was a further 1.3 miles-- an additional distance I was not willing to ride.

Our overnight was in an armory, thankfully air conditioned and with no nonsense about adult beverages.  The beer and wine was soon flowing freely and just as I was about to load my pictures and write my blog post, the mudslides appeared.  These were intended to soften us up for a love fest in which we recalled everything great about the ride.  All the bad cue sheets, cold showers, plugged toilets, food complaints, dust storms, ant infestations, headwinds, stomping off to hotels, flat tires and general bitching and whining were forgotten.  Everyone had funny and pleasant memories and there were tears and hugs all around.  Later, instead of being irked that we had to sleep in one big echoing room, we felt like the Waltons all snuggled up for a last night together.

The next day, only 42 miles to St. Augustine, felt like a romp and more than on any other day of the trip, the riders took things slowly, staying in groups and almost reluctant to reach the end.  On arrival in Old St. Augustine most of us had a lovely lunch on the upper balcony of the AIA Alehouse before our final few miles down to St. Augustine Beach.

I have pondered at length on why this trip seemed so full of adversity and discomfort and yet in the end both John and I feel very happy that we did it.  The tough parts have faded away almost instantly and nothing but nostalgia remains. The big, sometimes disgruntled group, became our family for 52 days.  We ate together, rode together, showered together, slept together, and because of the many clothing items provided by Bubba, we were usually dressed alike.  It is hard to accept the fact that on day 53, the members of the group all spun off in different directions-- many never to meet again.

I read recently that there are two components to happiness--  gratification and satisfaction.  It is seemingly more gratifying to sit on a comfortable couch sipping coffee and reading or watching television than it is to hike up a long, hard mountain.  But the view at the top, the pride of accomplishment and the memory of the day are richly gratifying and satisfying.  This seems the perfect analogy to our long and hard bicycle ride.  The 3000 miles that we rode, the people we rode with and the landscapes we rode through all add up to an unforgettable experience that I feel privileged to have shared with John and the other riders.  

Dereka and John in New Hampshire 9 August 2010

Bubba's Pampered Pedalers: An Evaluation

Bubba says "Its ALL good!".  Should you take a trip with Bubba?  If you have read my blog of the Coast 2 Coast trip I took in 2012 with my husband, John Langhans, you will know that it is most definitely not all good.  That said, we are not sorry we went and we would not discourage others from going.  Bubba is a great guy who has lots of fans and I ended up being one of them but caution is advised.  Riders considering the C2C trip may be interested in my evaluation.

The greatest problem of the trip from our perspective was that Bubba was too popular.  This was his third time across the country and when we signed up he said he planned for 15 people.  As we watched the email list grow in advance of the trip we really began to wonder.  In San Diego the group numbered 35 riders and 11 staff.  Two of the riders had been added within the week before the trip began!  This meant that logistics intended for a smaller group all had to be reworked.  Places where it was planned we stay in cabins were no longer large enough.  Places with one or two toilets had to serve for all 45 of us.  Although Bubba covered pretty well, we could tell he was only one step ahead of us in planning-- overnight sites fell through, catered meals had to be arranged at the last minute-- he was on his cell phone a great deal of the time.

The staff was superb.  Bubba was very lucky in the people he had helping him-- he is Mr. Personality but it was up to others to make things run as smoothly as they did.

The "camping" varied wildly.  While Bubba told us that at times we would be in "commercial campgrounds", it wasn't clear (at least to me) that this meant R.V. parks.  In retrospect I realize that campgrounds in much of the U.S. have evolved into R.V. parks.  We almost never encountered other tenters and the few we did see were self-supported cyclists.  The R.V. parks ranged from really tacky to very nice but in every case they were not designed to accommodate a group like ours.  The lack of bathrooms was the most notable feature but they were crowded and mostly non-scenic as well.  We also slept in churches, armories, a town park, a town recreation center, and thankfully four state parks and four hotels.  The tents and mattresses were excellent.  The tent was comfortable and roomy, the mattresses thick and reasonably reliable.

The food was not the gourmet food that Bubba promised on his web site.  I will say no more than that instant oatmeal, instant mashed potatoes, and instant rice, eliminate any possibility that the cooking will be gourmet.  I admired our chef because I think he did very well under the circumstances and  they were very accommodating about my vegetarianism.  Thankfully I eat fish but in only two cases was I left without a vegetarian option-- neither of them the chef's fault.

The cue sheets were far from satisfactory.  The distances were always off and always more than the mileage provided to us.  This became so routine that we added 5% for "Bubba Miles" to each day.  While this may seem a minor thing, an additional 4 or 5 miles added to a very long day can be extremely aggravating.  In addition, some of the waypoints were inaccurately described-- we were told to turn at a Gold's Gym, for example, when there was no such facility at the right place.  It was beyond our comprehension why no effort was made to make the sheets more accurate--  in other trips the SAG drivers have paid attention to the cue sheets and made corrections and adjustments when necessary.  Asking for information was always foolish-- we were often given stupid information-- "it's mostly downhill", "it's about seven miles", "it's one of the prettiest days on the ride" (said countless times and rarely true), "we always get a head wind on that day", etc. etc.  Why was I gullible time and time again?

Bubba's web site says "you will be bicycling mostly on very lightly traveled back roads, however at times on more heavily traveled roads".  The opposite was the case-- there was lots of interstate and several days of riding on heavily trafficked roads with high speed limits and rough surfaces.  In some cases the shoulder was poor or in very bad condition.  A rider who had done the route before said that Bubba had deviated from the standard bicycling route, eliminating some long climbs at the cost of less scenic and more trafficked roads.  That said, anyone who chooses to do this ride should understand that particularly in the western part of the U.S. the road options are extremely limited and in many cases do not make for pleasant riding.  I kept reminding myself that one can't ride coast to coast without riding through the spaces between!

My advice?  Go if you want to-- you will probably have a great time.  Just remember that there will be more hills and headwinds (real and metaphorical) than you imagine.  If you have a vision of pleasant riding on a bike path across the country you need to read my blog again.