March 25: Tallahassee to Live Oak, Florida

A pace-line is like a super-organism: greater than it’s parts.  Today we rode our fourth century of this trip (113 miles) into a headwind, so most people self-organized into thin lines of four to ten riders, changing the lead every half-mile or so, going faster and easier than we most of us could have ridden by ourselves.  When a pace-line syncs, there’s a synergy; the sum is greater than the parts.  You’re not just riding across the country by yourself, you’re riding with your swarm, your flock of birds that organize and re-organize until the right combination of birds fly in formation, cutting the draft for each bird, lifting each bird along to its destination.

We entered the eastern-time zone yesterday, so today we got up at our normal time, ready to go, and it was still dark.  We tried to be patient, but finally gave up and rode off into the dusky early morning with flashing bike lights and some faith that early morning drivers would see us in fluorescent coats.

Geni and Steve Parker ready to ride before dawn.

By the time we had navigated Tallahassee and hit the bike path, the day had dawned and all riders accounted for: Clare, Alan, Katrina, Jane, & Geni.

After noon we stopped in Greenville where Ray Charles spent much of his childhood.  Pretty much everyone wanted their picture taken with Ray:

Carol, Kathleen, and Ray.

Jane and her pal Ray.

The czar and czarina Lestikows fit Ray with a bike helmet.

Then, we crossed the Suwanee River, known for its truncated Swanee river from Stephen Foster’s famous song: “Old Folks at Home” which starts: “Way down upon the Swanee River..”

The S(u)wanee River (no kidding!  This is really it!)

Cypress growing in the ubiquitous ponds and swamps in Florida.

Ruth and David Durst, our tea-time tandem team, happy to have found an iced latte along the way.

Polly, Stu, Rob, and Alan finding their own cold replenishment at the end of a long day.