Another Florida Ride After Ian

Yesterday I took another ride to the ocean.  I started the same way as I did the other day, along Palm Coast Parkway to the Hammock Dunes Bridge.  At the foot of the bridge, however, I made an opposite turn and pedaled south, along A1A to Daytona Beach.  In all, I  rode about 105 kilometers:  slightly more than the other day.

My first stop:  Painters Hill.

As usual, it lived up to its name.  It's not much of a hill, but the light, on the beach or the street, always seems to have a soft--dare I say it?--brushed quality to it, even on the brightest, sunniest days. Plus, whoever happens to be there--the swimmers (though there were none yesterday; it was forbidden), the fishermen, the strollers--seem to have been created from images in the eye of an immediate but vivid memory.

Along A1A I continued, through Beverly Beach to Flagler Beach, a mist on the water and high cirrus clouds accenting rather than veiling sunlight. 

After I passed the pier at Flagler, though, I had to make several detours and, at a couple of points, walk my bike, if for only ten meters or so.  As I continued southward, I could see where Hurricane Ian unleashed more of its force than it did around my father's house. A number of seaside restaurants, cafes and small inns, have been closed.  So were two convenience store/gas stations I passed.  In some of those buildings, the damage wasn't so obvious, so I suspect that they were flooded and, as a result, have structural, fire and other hazards. But some edifices were turned into piles of matchsticks.

What amazes me is that next to some houses and other buildings stripped bare by raging wind and rain were others that looked as if they'd barely been touched.  But even in front of  such homes and businesses, boards, pads, rugs, furniture and other home and office fixtures were piled curbside, or on the paths and sidewalks.

And what Ian didn't strip from homes, offices, hotels and eateries, he took from the beaches.  Sand was strewn, sometimes piled, across the roadway and on the bike lanes and sidewalks.  Even with the wide, knobby balloon tires I rode, the bike skidded and skittered on the shifting sand.

Still, I enjoyed the ride as much as any I've taken along the coastline.  Perhaps I was simply grateful that I could ride it.  Oh, and I met up with a couple of friends along the way.

Later today, I will head home. Perhaps I will return here one day and while some of the structures will have changed, the ride will remain familiar. Or so I hope.