In the morning in St Augustine we feel pretty relaxed with only 60 miles to cover to Daytona and begin by messing about on the beach and getting the obligatory "we're here" pictures. Mark also gets the obligatory wet feet when a wave comes in faster than expected (Tim found this funny until he worked out that one of the wet shoes was his!) while Tim manages to ask a German woman who speaks no English to take our picture.
The road isn't too busy and we take our time, stopping several times and enjoying a long ice cream break, while in Daytona we head inland to find a motel that'll take time off our journey tomorrow. Our meal tonight is more celebratory and we spend the rest of the evening with the obligatory ESPN.
The 70 mile ride to Ocala is flat, dull but without a headwind we make good time. The road is typical of the area with no shoulder for long stretches but we get on it early and the traffic is relatively light. One negative moment occurs when a part full coke can whistles past Tim's head, the first time we've noticed any negative activity from passing drivers. Without doubt the drivers in Florida are the worst we've met (we're not the only cyclists to say this), and the roads though well surfaced the hardest to ride on with little shoulder (the newer ones seem worse). The prize for best roads, best #signage and most courteous drivers: Texas by a mile. Memo to Jeb Bush: go visit the family and take some notes! Shoot me if I ever suggest retiring here: Arizona was so much more attractive.
Tim's "grandmother-in-law" is pleased to see us and we pass our time with her chatting, preparing for the journey home and eating "country buffet" style. The plan on the 30th is to get packed, drive her old Cadillac down to Orlando to pick up our car at 2pm, drop her car off, pack the rental car quickly and hit the road. All goes well as we find the Disney complex's car rental place and fit ourselves our with a new Camry, but return to the Caddy to find it won't start. Luckily Mark spots a nearby AAA office and knows I'm a member: within minutes they have a mechanic out with a jumper battery and we're on our way.
Driving 1500 miles in 24 hours is tough but we survive, taking turns with Mark doing the greater amount as Tim has to do the last 200 miles from the Finger Lakes to Albany alone. We stop for citrus fruit at a store on the road (on the stretch of 301 we'd passed when it was closed) but nothing else bar gas and food. 23 hours later Mark has been dropped off and Tim's getting strange looks in Albany airport assembling a bike and trying to load about a ton of fruit on the back (this was pre 9-11, now I'd probably be arrested). A few miles riding takes Tim into town to pick up the car at Tracy's work and the journey is done.
