Author: Lee Hausman

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).  

This morning the Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines ship “Enchantment of the Sea” docked in Key West at Mallory Square (see photos) and soon thereafter two of the passengers, my Washington D.C. area friends Carol Klein and David Peridia, disembarked and met me. This was all part of my grand trip plan and it was great to see them. We hopped on the Conch Tour Train and enjoyed a fine guided tour around Key West during the cool morning hours, learning quite a bit about the island’s history. 

Then we strolled Duval Street and turned into the famous Hogs Breath Saloon, positioning ourselves near one of their real-time web cams. Carol called her son David, as promised, so that he could get on the Internet and see us, which he did. Mission accomplished, we then did some more shopping on Duval and wound up at the Grand Café for a great lunch, featuring conch fritters, shrimp, panini, Mojitos, Pain-in-the-Asses, and conichons (a type of pickle). The food was fine and the setting, in an old restored house, was great.  

We chatted for quite a while, leisurely finishing our excellent lunch, and then we moseyed back to Mallory Square so Carol and David could do some last minute souvenir shopping before they had to get back on board their ship. We said goodbye and off they went and I parked myself at the Hilton’s outside bar so that I could see the big ship depart. It was an interesting ballet of dock workers, pilot boat, and cruise ship.  

I spent the afternoon doing a little shopping of my own and visited a few other places and then wound up back at my hotel for a little siesta.  

Tomorrow I’ll depart Key West and head back up the keys to Ft. Lauderdale. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my stay in Key West and getting here was a great ride. Next, I’ll be heading north up the East Coast to visit other friends and join other riders and I hope you’ll continue to join me here. I’m keeping an eye on a line of severe thunderstorms that could be in my path over the next few days and the brush fires that are closing highways in eastern central Florida.

Things could get more exciting on the highways, so stay tuned.

Beach towns have a lot in common and Key West, though the beach is not its central feature, is one of them. For example, there are a lot of very tanned people here (the locals, primarily) and I mean very, very darkly tanned. As the bearer of a fair complection, I’ve been careful to stay inside during the peak 11 am – 2 pm UVB hours. Another interesting phenomenon is the wide use of rental scooters, bicycles, and electric carts. These are often piloted by inexperienced tourists and it can be a real zoo out there on the main drag. The effect is practically “European”, where two-wheeled vehicles outnumber four-wheeled by quite a bit.

Duval Street is a fairly narrow, two lane road, not much as main drags go. Traffic is forced to go slowly and, given the number of pedestrians overflowing the sidewalks, that’s good. Businesses along Duval run the gamut of open air bars, hotels, souvenir and tee-shirt shops, jewelry stores, etc. and prices can be high.

This morning I ate breakfast at The Deli Restaurant down the street. During breakfast I looked out the window at the Harley and saw one of Key West’s “special” residents – a red rooster – inspecting it (chickens roam freely in Key West). The scene would have made a great picture but the bird moved off before I could haul out the camera. After eating, I visited the Key West Lighthouse and South Beach (see photo) and did a little recon on the motorcycle. Then I retreated to the shade of my room and the pool deck to get out of the sun at its peak. After 2:00 pm I headed over to the famous Green Parrot Bar and had lunch ($10 for a BBQ sandwich –there’s obviously a price to be paid to enjoy all that “fame”!).

The Sunset Celebration at Mallory Square, with its great view west over the Gulf of Mexico, is another Key West tradition I had to go to. However, after sampling the performers and panhandlers at Mallory Square, I decided to retreat to the rooftop lounge on the La Concha hotel. The crowd there was jovial, there were no panhandlers at all, the drinks were fresh and the view magnificent (see photo), complete with several sailboats.

Tomorrow: a rendezvous with special guests!

They say the Florida Keys is a state of mind. So I decided today that I’d get into that frame of mind as soon as I left the mainland. It’s only about 120 miles down to Key West but I thought I could stretch the 3 hour trip into 6 by making frequent stops at pubs and restaurants. The weather was very cooperative and I left the mainland at 10:00 am. Locations on “Route 1 South – The Oversea Highway” are traditionally located by their highway mile marker (MM).

First stop: DJ’s Diner in Key Largo (MM 99) for breakfast. The food was great at this family-run place and just across the highway for your visiting pleasure was the original boat from the Bogart- Bacall flick, The African Queen.

Next, I pulled into The Lorelei Tiki Bar and Restaurant (MM 82) in Islamorada for a quick libation. Like many along this route, the open air bar is built out over the water and features a thatched roof and fantastic view. The water flanking the road, by the way, is such an incredible blue color!

At The Island Tiki Bar in Marathon (MM 56) I was introduced to a drink called “A Pain In The Ass”. This bit of heaven in a cup is half Pina Colada and half Rum Runner and absolutely fantastic. The name comes from the fact that until the era of slushee machines at bars, it was very difficult for a bartender to make one serving of this drink as it really involves making two different blender drinks. I subsequently discovered quite a few bars in Key West without the requisite slushee machine and they would not make the drink unless you agreed to buy two of them.

I stopped at the 7 Mile Grill (MM 47) for lunch, which involved my first tasting of Conch Fritters. My long time friends recognize my limited sea food palate and I have not yet decided what I think about conch. Perhaps a few more tastings in other formats are indicated… The 7 Mile Grill was an open air restaurant with a great view and excellent food. It sits at the northern end of a seven mile long bridge, which in itself is a pretty interesting driving experience. Incidentally, the speed limit down through the keys varies between 45 and 55 mph and there is surely no reason to make the trip go by quickly.

Finally, I stopped at the Sugarloaf Lodge and Tiki Bar (MM 22) for a libation and had a very interesting talk with Nancy, the bartender. She is leaving next Monday for a first time visit to Paris and has been to Venice already, so we were able to trade tips and advice about our mutual upcoming European trips. 

I finally rolled into Key West at 3:30 and made an end-to-end ride up and down the main drag, Duval street, first thing, capped off with taking a picture of my Harley at the marker for the southernmost point in the U.S. All in all, it was a really terrific ride and put me in the right frame of mind. I spent the rest of the afternoon visiting a few places on Duval just to get the lay of the land. The laid back Key West attitude is obvious and pervasive and I look forward to a few days off the road soaking it up.

Florida City is not necessarily the last bit of land before you head down to the Florida Keys but it’s pretty darn close. I rode down here today from Orlando on “Florida’s Turnpike”. Not “THE Florida Turnpike”, mind you. The Pennsylvania Turnpike and The New Jersey Turnpike were good enough names for those other states but I guess Florida wanted to be sure you understand who owns their turnpike. Anyway, it’s a pretty fine road and was really uncongested most of the way on this Saturday. The $20 in tolls was obnoxious but that’s the price you pay in a state with no sales tax, I guess.

Having said that, I’m now pretty convinced that Florida drivers are some of the wildest I’ve ever driven among. Freeway speeding at 85-90 mph is common, no quarter is asked or given, and turn signals are, really, so passé. I’m not talking about bad octogenarian drivers, either. They’re all huddling over in the far right lane with me doing the speed limit +5 in order to avoid being run down. Most southern Florida cars have dark window tinting which robs you of even the small ability to see whether someone is looking your way; a driver behavior indicator that you’re not even aware of observing until it’s hidden from you.

The weather has been pretty spectacular – about 85 degrees, partly cloudy, low humidity and a slight wind. This combines to mean standing still on the bike soon gets to be a sweaty affair but when you’re moving, it’s very comfortable. I’ve developed that telltale, speckled suntan pattern on the back of my hands that comes from wearing mesh driving gloves.

I arrived here at the Florida City Hampton Inn and, as I unloaded the bike, got to hear some stories my DEA agent neighbors were telling from their early Happy Hour gathering on the balcony above me. Hmm, could be an interesting evening; let’s hope they have to work tomorrow.   

I rode for about 60 miles today with another Harley driver who was heading from Savannah to Ft. Lauderdale. I have seen only a handful of riders going my direction so far but expect to see a lot heading north next week as I start my trek home toward Myrtle Beach Bike Week.

 Tomorrow: a leisurely ride down the fabulous bridges and islands to Key West.

It has been a long time since I visited Disney World and it was sort of a shock. Crowd control planners there surely must what they’re doing but the strangest things I saw today as I toured Epcot and The Animal Kingdom were the hordes of pushcars (see photo). Disney rents these double strollers by the hundreds and hundreds and parents jam children (some way past stroller-age) into them, along with their fanny packs, purses, backpacks, and anything else they can’t be troubled with carrying. Combine these with privately-owned strollers and wheelchairs and those motorized 3-wheel scooters (“The Rascal”) used by the elderly (both private and Disney rentals) and the general mass of pedestrians and you get a sidewalk jam worthy of a Saigon street market. And I was there today during what was described as a “light” day! I cannot imagine what it must be like during the height of tourist season.

It was amusing to survey the footwear that passed by whenever I took a little break on a shaded bench: gym shoes were the overwhelming favorites, then came sandals and flip flops, then the odd hiking boot or two, and finally the very small but painful-to-watch category of Totally Inappropriate Shoes, aka high heels, Oh, those poor people, what were they thinking?

I’ve also included a photo of my friend’s Disney access pass (the white card that says NOT FOR SALE). It was interesting strolling around the parks and I appreciate my friend’s generosity in getting me free access but I think my Disney World days are pretty much over.

It was great seeing my old Country Western dancing buddy, Lynda Revetta, and we had quite a time hashing over our memories from the good old days and had a great dinner with her friend Dave and her roommate Jackie.

Photo viewing tip: you can see the photo’s in a larger size if you click the little arrow beside the word  “Slideshow” and select “Full View” from the drop down menu.

Tomorrow: Riding down to the southern tip of the mainland, Homestead/Florida City. The brush fires blocking some highways in Florida are not on my route,

The Florida sun is hot, no doubt about it, and on a motorcycle you can get a full dose. Yesterday, I left Atlanta behind and rode down past Macon and onto Valdosta, which is just 16 miles from the Florida border. I didn’t see much that was remarkable which explains my failure to posting comments here last night.

Wind is a major sensory input when riding a bike on long trips. As you can imagine, there is the obvious wind resistance on you and the motorcycle as you go down the highway at the speed limit, which is 70 mph. Without a windshield, the wind resistance pressing on your body would be extremely fatiguing and so the windshield is a necessity (not to mention that it protects you from debris and bug hits). As the air flows over the windshield and around your helmet it can be pretty noisy. Now consider natural wind: suppose there’s a cross wind blowing over the highway. Now you have wind from several directions beating you around and making noise. I’m not talking about enough wind to make steering a problem but enough to fatigue you. And, let’s add in the air stream around other vehicles: a tractor trailer rig is like a ship moving through the water – it has a “bow wave” of air around its front and a “wake” of turbulent air trailing after it. So being passed by a truck causes the motorcycle to pass through the bow wave, enter the “envelope” of air around the truck, and then get bounced around by the turbulent wake. The order is reversed if I pass the truck. In any case, there is a whole let of air in motion and you, the rider, are very aware of it.

To deal with the Florida sun, I’m putting on sun screen hourly and ride most of the time wearing a long-sleeved shirt (L.L. Bean hiking shirts, made of a poly blend, keep you quite cool).

I’m here in Orlando now and will be meeting up tonight with Lynda Revetta, a friend and former dance partner from my Bronco Billy’s C&W dancing days. Quick Quiz: What’s worse than finding your self at a motel filled with rowdy Hells Angels? Answer: I’m staying at a Hilton Garden Inn and have just discovered what appears to be a high population of 8-12 year olds running through the halls on my floor. Lord have mercy: I may have stumbled into some tour group or class trip??

I buzzed down to Harley-Davidson of Clayton this morning to visit their nice dealership and was very impressed. The store was large and nice and the staff was very friendly. The trip involved going through the heart of Atlanta and, whooeee, the crazy D.C. area drivers have nothing on those around here. However, taking my chances with Atlanta’s wildest was worth the nice tee shirt I came back with.

I discovered yesterday that my hotel was right next door to a Sonic Drive In. The Sonic, which is primarily found in the South, has a particular place in my heart because I discovered them the summer I worked at an outdoor theatre in Hot Springs, Arkansas. The days could be scorching and the wide expanse of the cement stage unforgiving in reflecting heat but we managed to survive because at lunch we’d go for a “Sonic Boom”. This was a slurpee sort of drink that, if consumed too quickly, delivered the well-known cold drink headache for which it was named (see phtotos). The Sonic Boom was our salvation that summer! Here in Atlanta I managed to resist the temptation to eat every meal there and have only had one Slush (as the Boom is now called). But it was heaven and, yes… I drank it too quickly.

During this trip, I’m listening to a Book-On-Tape (on iPod actually) version of “The City Falling Angels” by John Berendt. He was the author of that great book about Savannah, “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”. The book I’m listening to is about the burning and rebuilding of La Fenice, the opera house in Venice, and it’s very good. I’m listening to it to get myself prepared for visiting there later this month.

You never know who you will run into at Starbucks, do you? I topped off my stop in Atlanta this evening over coffee and tea with Claudia (yes, that Claudia). We had not seen each other in about 25 years and it was great to spend some time with her. She is still a very classy lady.

Tomorrow: I ride southeast through Georgia, past Macon to Valdosta.

Glorious, clear blue skies met me this morning as I pointed the Harley down I-85 out of Spartanburg and the forecast for a high of 74 was a treat after yesterday’s chilly exodus from southern Virginia. Compared to the highways around Washington, the road seemed almost deserted as I passed Greenville and other cities. I’m certainly no fan of the rain grooves that South Carolina cuts into so many miles of its interstate (not just bridges); even when the road is dry the tread in a motorcycle tire “hunts” back and forth across the grooves making the ride bumpy. When it rains, ironically, these grooves, which are designed to improve traction, make things much more dangerous for motorcycles.

Rain was the farthest thing from my mind today, though. I snapped a picture of the sky over the Georgia Welcome Center (see photos) to show you just how cloudless and blue it was. My ride today was relatively short and before long I was in Norcross, a northeastern suburb of Atlanta.

The UVA theatre reunion continues: after unloading at my hotel and freshening up, I called my college classmate and former lighting buddy David O. Traylor and we met for dinner. David is a free-lance TV and video lighting director in Atlanta and you may have seen some of his work. He’s been behind the camera for six years on the Food Network’s “Good Eats” show with chef Alton Brown and has even been in front of the camera a few dozen times in small roles.

We spent a lot of time reliving the glories of our college days and the days when we worked together at Sundance Lighting in L.A. (with lots of “rose-colored hindsight”). David is a good guy and it has been 16 years since we last met, so it was great to see him.

I just love the names of some of these Southern towns: I passed “Fair Play” today and David lives near “Between”. 

Tomorrow: more of the mysteries of Atlanta.

Bright sunshine is a good omen when starting a motorcycle trip and Saturday’s cool but sunny weather was greatly appreciated. I left town and soon found myself heading south on I-81 along the western edge of the beautiful Blue Ridge mountains. At 70 mph the motorcycle engine was a soft purr, almost undetectable above the wind noise. Traffic was light and all was well with the world.

First stop: Harrisonburg, Virginia and James Madison University, where I dropped in on former college classmate and now costume designer and director extraordinaire, Pam Scheulke Johnson. Pam started teaching costume design at JMU 30 years ago and is now a tenured Full Professor. We had lunch and I confirmed that her beauty, charm, sharp wit and smart outlook on life is still in full flower. She sends her regards to all the UVA drama alums who may read this.

After lunch is it was back on the Harley for a two hour ride down to Shawsville, just south of Roanoke-Salem, and the lovely hilltop home of Bob and Debbie Ashcraft (see photos). Bob and I went to high school together and were the inseparable terrors of the lighting crew there and have remained good friends ever since (even if he did graduate from UVA nemesis VPI). Bob is a computer wrangler for Anthem Blue Cross/Blue Shield (check your wallet – you, like me, may be an Anthem health care customer, in which case Bob thanks you for his salary). We had a nice dinner with Bob’s sister Martha and her husband Thom and spent the rest of the evening discussing just what’s gone wrong with the world today. Conclusion: all these young folks and their technologies! Translation: proto-geezers like us are having a hard time keeping up… For example:

Cell phone salesman: Is there some feature you especially want on your new cell phone?

Thom: Yes, but I don’t see it listed here.

Salesman: I’m sure we have it, what is it?

Thom: A dial.

After a good night’s sleep I bid Bob and Debbie many thanks for their gracious and generous hospitality and said goodbye and was on the road again. Unfortunately, yesterday’s nice weather wasn’t repeated – it was overcast and in the 55-60 degree range all day. A bit chilly at 70 mph but at least it was dry. I took I-81 to I-77 and headed over the mountains through “Fancy Gap” into North Carolina. The descent down the mountain offered a terrific view that would have been really spectacular in full sun. On I went to Charlotte where I hung a right and headed south on I-85 and crossed into South Carolina and I’m posting this tonight from Spartanburg, SC.  

About “The Wave”: when motorcyclists pass on the road, generally they will exchange waves. Yes, there are some holdouts who won’t wave if you’re not on their preferred bike brand or whatever, but generally they are far and few between. Of course, when one gets to a bike rally of some kind then the wave is not done because all you’d be doing is waving. But it’s nice to get an acknowledgement from the other side of the highway from a kindred spirit.