I’m writing tonight from Ft. Lauderdale after an uneventful but pretty ride back up the Florida Keys and up the turnpike past Miami. The weather service was a little unclear about the likelihood of rain or thunderstorms today and a few times I thought the freshening wind and low clouds might mean a sprinkle. However, I got here dry and the forecast now calls for “isolated t-storms” about midday up in Jacksonville, which is my destination tomorrow. The term “isolated” indicates that only 10% of the forecast area may receive rain, so I have my fingers crossed. Having ridden through a few thunderstorms in my day, some complete with hail, I can tell you they’re not pleasant on a bike. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
I had some time today while riding along to do some thinking about Key West. Some people go there and, attracted by the lifestyles, the weather, the whatever, want to move there. According to some Internet chat groups I investigated, many who do move, don’t stay very long (seems for some there can be such a thing as too much paradise). I am having no such urge to move to Key West; for me it would be akin to moving to OceanCity or Virginia Beach and I have no interest in that. I’m not really a beach person, don’t tan that well, don’t like the ocean much, and don’t even like most seafood! Why then, you might ask, did I go to Key West?
Well, it was a far-away destination and made for a very good motorcycle ride. It’s also famous for its fun and saloons and I’m glad to be able to say I’ve been there. I learned some stuff, saw some sights, bought a few tee-shirts, and enjoyed myself thoroughly. And it was a lot of fun seeing my two friends during when their cruise ship made port in Key West. All of the service folks, bartenders, and waiters I talked with were friendly and nice and left a pretty good taste in my mouth about Key West. What more is there to say?
However, given a choice of going to Key West or to Paris or Venice, I’d opt for the latter every time. I’m much more of a museums and frescoes kind of biker; you know – a hairy hoodlum who digs centuries-old, ornate opera houses and Impressionism.
Tomorrow: it’s on to Jacksonville, which is just a way-point for Friday’s ride to Pawleys Island, S.C. where I’ll meet up with the NYC UVA Theatre alums (our annual get together) and, over the weekend, take in a bit of Myrtle Beach Bike Week (always a blast).
The Occasionally-Examined Life 