Once upon a time in August..

I told you, my loyal readers, that I would someday regale you with past stories of my outdoors adventures.  Today is your lucky day.

The summer heat is making me feel nostalgic, reminding me of an adventure that could have ended up in disaster.  Hopefully these stories will serve as a warning to others and prove to you that I’m just a knucklehead with no common sense.

One fine day in August 2003 (or 2004?  I can’t remember, the damage must have been permanent)  I decided to go for a little bike ride.  I got the wild idea to completely traverse the Withlacoochee State Trail from start to finish.  The trail is 46 miles long, starting at the Owensboro Junction Trailhead, not far from Dade City.  It’s the longest paved rail/trail in Florida, mind you.  The other end of the trail is way over near Dunnellon, at the Gulf Junction Trailhead.  I know what you crazy spandex-clad road bikers are saying: “46 miles, is that all? My toddler can do that!”

I did this on an originally-priced eighty-dollar mountain bike way past its prime.  Ouch.

I started out from the Owensboro Junction Trailhead shortly after sunrise, enjoying the morning coolness.  Watching and listening to wildlife in the woods alongside the trail, I made my way on down the path in a blissful state. I passed through the small community of Trilby, and rode the bridge over Highway 50 to the Ridge Manor Trailhead.  Feeling some slight discomfort from the seat that only other bike riders can appreciate, I stopped for a snack and to stretch.  It was at this time that I started to wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew.

I quickly expelled those thoughts from my mind and saddled up to bite off another section of the trail.  Oh, what’s that feeling?  Oh my, it seems it’s a lot harder to get going after a short break, my legs were really starting to fatigue at this point.  Down the trail I go, and further and further the sun rises until it is beaming directly down upon my person.  Not good.  Not good at all.

On through Istachatta, Floral City, Inverness, and into Hernando I go.  Having exhausted my water supply, I stopped and refilled at a gas station near the trail and enjoyed an ice cream in the shade of a huge live oak.  Determined to finish the trail, I once again mounted my trusty aluminum steed and pointed it in the direction of Citrus Springs.

Now comes the good part.  There was absolutely no shade along this section, and being near noontime in August the temperature was as hot as it gets.  I totally fell apart during these next few miles, and regretted eating the ice cream that seemed so refreshing only a short time ago.  The ice cream and I parted company, and I felt better for a while.  Then the cramps began.

The first muscle spasm in my legs scared me pretty good, I’ll admit.  I almost crashed my bike, flopping over in the grass next to the trail like a fish.  I steadied myself, took a breather and drank some water.  Back on the wheeled torture device I go.  A few minutes later I started feeling really wonky and my eyes would not focus correctly, but I kept on going.  I was determined to reach the end of the trail.  I hallucinated, seeing squirrels jump over my bike to the opposite side of the trail and cursed them for being so crafty and full of energy.  What a mess I was.

Finally, I reached the end of the trail.  I had done it.  Oh, but wait, the water fountains and bathrooms have been locked due to vandalism.  Oh no!  Also, the trailhead is not directly off of Highway 41, but is back in a subdivision down a few twisty roads.  There’s no way my wife would ever find me back here, and I was in no shape to explain how to get where I was.  Whimpering, I forced myself back on the bike and made for the road.  I could not ride up the hills, so I got off and pushed.  I coasted down the hills until at last I reached the highway.  I rode across the road and crashed into a group of small trees where I called my lovely wife to rescue me.

I was rescued, but spent the next couple of days suffering from heat sickness and muscle spasms.  I still ride on the Withlacoochee State Trail, but learned the hard way about riding in the heat.  Don’t be a goofus like me.  Take your time, wear the proper clothing, and carry plenty of fluids.

So, who’s up for a little bike ride?

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