Every ride along a seashore seems to begin with a descent from a bridge:
And, of course, the descent from this particular bridge is a sure sign that I'm in Florida--Flagler Beach, to be exact.
At the foot of the bridge, I took a right and cycled south along Florida A-1A, which shadows the dunes, palm trees and beaches along the Atlantic Ocean. Every time I ride it, I see more cyclists. I guess that's not surprising when I realize that A-1A has long been a favorite of motorcycle riders.
Just 36 hours after an early-morning frost, the temperature had climbed over 70F (21C). So, I had the sort of company I wouldn't normally have on the day before Chrismas in New York:
At leasst one of his flock wasn't going to let him steal all available human attention:
Although the main reason (actually, nearly the only reason) I come to Florida is to visit my parents, I am very happy to spend this holiday here this year. For the first time in nearly two months, I was able to cycle to the ocean without seeing sand, twisted metal and broken concrete pillars where there had been, days earlier, a boardwalk. It was also the first time since Hurricane Sandy struck that I was able to see dunes that hadn't been eroded or leveled by surges of wind and surf, or shell-shocked people left in their wake.
Sandy, and the Nor'easter that followed it only a week later, ravaged the coastal areas I know best. Perhaps they are not the most beautiful, but they will always mean the most to me and, for that reason, the destruction I have seen has been heartbreaking. Also, that sort of devastation "wasn't supposed to happen" along the coasts of Long Island, the Rockaways, Coney Island and New Jersey: Sandy was a "once in a century" storm, and having such a storm followed so closely by another was unprecedented.
So, it was ironic, to say the least, that I would have to go to a shoreline that's less familiar (though not completely unfamiliar) to experience the sort of ride that I usually take as a local escape. What's even more strange, though, is that nearly everything I recall from previous rides along this stretch of Florida's Atlantic coast is as I remember it from previous rides--and that few places in the world experience more hurricanes and tropical storms (or, for that matter, tornadoes) than the so-called Sunshine State!
And, of course, the descent from this particular bridge is a sure sign that I'm in Florida--Flagler Beach, to be exact.
At the foot of the bridge, I took a right and cycled south along Florida A-1A, which shadows the dunes, palm trees and beaches along the Atlantic Ocean. Every time I ride it, I see more cyclists. I guess that's not surprising when I realize that A-1A has long been a favorite of motorcycle riders.
Just 36 hours after an early-morning frost, the temperature had climbed over 70F (21C). So, I had the sort of company I wouldn't normally have on the day before Chrismas in New York:
At leasst one of his flock wasn't going to let him steal all available human attention:
Although the main reason (actually, nearly the only reason) I come to Florida is to visit my parents, I am very happy to spend this holiday here this year. For the first time in nearly two months, I was able to cycle to the ocean without seeing sand, twisted metal and broken concrete pillars where there had been, days earlier, a boardwalk. It was also the first time since Hurricane Sandy struck that I was able to see dunes that hadn't been eroded or leveled by surges of wind and surf, or shell-shocked people left in their wake.
Sandy, and the Nor'easter that followed it only a week later, ravaged the coastal areas I know best. Perhaps they are not the most beautiful, but they will always mean the most to me and, for that reason, the destruction I have seen has been heartbreaking. Also, that sort of devastation "wasn't supposed to happen" along the coasts of Long Island, the Rockaways, Coney Island and New Jersey: Sandy was a "once in a century" storm, and having such a storm followed so closely by another was unprecedented.
So, it was ironic, to say the least, that I would have to go to a shoreline that's less familiar (though not completely unfamiliar) to experience the sort of ride that I usually take as a local escape. What's even more strange, though, is that nearly everything I recall from previous rides along this stretch of Florida's Atlantic coast is as I remember it from previous rides--and that few places in the world experience more hurricanes and tropical storms (or, for that matter, tornadoes) than the so-called Sunshine State!
