No Way So Hey – Day 32

I’m sitting in the railway station. Got a ticket for my destination….

Last night I stayed up late to watch my Nats defeat the Cubs in the baseball playoffs. They were behind by one run in the top of the ninth when the cable channel went dark.  NOOOO!!!!!

The Nats lost. At least I didn’t have to endure watching the final three outs.  I had fun watching baseball this year. I attended about a dozen games. April can’t gone soon enough.

This morning I rode to the Amtrak station from my hotel during a break on the rain. The road leading to the train was flooded, a fitting coda to my days here in Florida. The Mule is going to get beaucoup maintenance when it gets home. The cables and bolts and nuts are rusted. The chain has been exposed to blowing sand for two weeks. The Mule just has to make it from Union Station to my house and this trip will be finito.

To celebrate the end of the tour I drank my emergency water bottle. I carried it from the start in a front pannier. I’ll probably eat the last energy bar too. 

I’ve never ridden a long distance train before. It’s supposed to arrive before 3 pm tomorrow. I’m in no hurry. 

The local intrastate trains have roll on bike cars. Like in Stockholm and Sydney. Florida, there’s hope for you yet. 

My cheapo bike gloves are soggy and torn. A good sign of along bike tour is when you gloves die a hero. Like a broken bat that provides a game winning hit.

It feels strange to be speeding past the landscape that I covered at 10 – 12 miles per hour. 

No Way So Hey – Day 31

Well the dumpy motel choice could not have been better. My Nats beat Chicago. When the much under appreciated Michael A. Taylor clubbed a grand slam into a stiff wind I yelled and jumped straight into the air. Do the Cubs raise a white L flag when they lose?

Tonight’s game is the deciderer. No hostel for me. I’m staying in a La Quinta five miles from the Amtrak station in Ft Lauderdale. 

So today was my last day of touring. The weather forecast last night called for thunderstorms. Oh joy. My route would take me straight through the Everglades with no available services or shelter for 45 miles. 

I had a sammich, an apple, and a spare bottle of water. I was on the road at dawn. 

There were storm clouds in the distance but no rain on me. I boogied. I was cruising at 16 miles per hour. The Mule was bringing it today. I suspected a tailwind – which was not in the forecast – and that’s what I got. 

For the first half of the jaunt, I rode past Domino sugar cane fields. The four lanehighway  would occasionally expand to eight lanes to accommodate cane harvesting trucks. This gave me a lane of my own for miles. 

When the cane gave way to swamp I was back to a paved shoulder. You know you’ve been in Florida too long when tractor trailers blasting by you at 60 miles per hour don’t bother you at all. Of course, I had my eye on the beasts through my trusty mirror. (Best purchase ever!)

It rained on and off but I welcomed the cooling effect. I could have done without the road spray from the trucks though.

I was riding on a road referred to as Alligator Alley. The alligators were all wearing invisibility cloaks until one of them met the wrong side of a truck and ended up dead on my paved shoulder. I did not stop to take a photo. Even alligators deserve dignity on death. Also I didn’t want to waste one second of my tailwind.

I did get to see one of those Everglades propeller boats. Those things make a serious amount of noise. 

When the 45 miles were up I was jubilant. I had eaten all the food and drank only half the water so I celebrated with a Gatorade and some cookies at a 7-11. As I was snarfing, the skies opened up. Wet cookies.

The last 17 miles were a straight line toward the Fort Lauderdale airport. My iguana friends came back. I also saw some colorful geese that were really pissed off at a man riding a horse along the irrigation canal to my right. 

My maps routed me to the south but the Amtrak station is to the north so I turned on the Google and searched for hotels that would allow me to ride to Amtrak in some semblance of peace in the morning. The winner was a La Quinta about five miles west of the station and beyond all but one of the nasty intersections on the way there.

Did I mention that the most common billboard advertisement is for personal injury lawyers? This is because Floridians drive like they have spent way too much time in the sun. I dropped more f bombs today than anytime in the last six months. 

I walked to the grocery store up the street to get late lunch and dinner. I tried to cross the street but a stop light runner and a U-turner both nearly took me out. I just stopped and waved for them to go. Everything in this area I am staying in is designed for cars. Let them kill each other. It’s just thinning the herd.

I managed to survive the trip and came upon an iguana of a certain age.

So with 62.5 more miles in the books, I have only 5 miles left in Florida. If all goes well, I’ll ride to the station, give Amtrak The Mule, check a bag full of stuff, and spend 30+ hours on a train reading and sleeping. I plan on riding home from Union Station. It’s not over til The Mule’s in the shed and I’m in my own bed.

My total mileage so far is 2,168.

Go Nats!


No Way So Hey – Day 30

I woke up feeling achy so I had Advil on my Cheerios. Getting on The Mule was painful. I have an ugly bruise on the side of my torso under my right arm. Deep breaths hurt a little. Good thing it’s not hilly around here,

The day was miles and miles of highway riding through the agricultural area of south Florida. The roads had a paved but rough shoulder. And the wind blew steadily in my face all day. Double digit speed was not gonna happen today. 

Cattle ranches in Florida seem odd. The cattle are thinner than up north yet they have hundreds of acres to graze on. With the wide open empty spaces and occasional palm tree in the distance you’d swear you were in South America somewhere. 

I reached Moore Haven by 11. After 25 miles I could have taken a break and ate something. Instead I pedaled. The next 15 miles would be on a bike trail atop a levee overlooking Lake Ocheekobee. Big fun coming up. 

Until I encountered the closed gate at the trailhead. The levee and trail were being repaired. Curse you Irma.

So it was back to the highway with the heat and the headwinds and the narrow bumpy shoulder. After about five miles I was hurting. The temperature was in the low 90s and the humidity was tolerable. My comfort level increased whenever a cloud blocked the sun. Sugar cain was the crop now. Many fields were being prepared for a new crop. The endless irrigation canals gave me done dark blue water to look at between trucks. 

I arrived at Clewiston parched and tired. I pulled into a Wendy’s and ate and drank and ate and drank. The air conditioning felt great, too. 

45 minutes later I was back on the road. I looked at the levee and imagined the view. 

You’d think that a tractor trailer passing close by would be a bad thing. For me it was something to look forward to. The air wake would give me a shove and increase my speed a bit until the headwind reasserted itself. 

There was nothing to do but grind it out. So I did. 

I chose to pass up a county campground for a dumpy motel in South Bay where I am watching the Nationals play the Cubs in a playoff game. 

After the game there is five dining to be had at the gas station across the road. 

Another 57.5 miles today brings the trip to 2,105.5.

Tomorrow it’s alligator alley to a hotel near the train station in Ft Lauderdale.

No Way So Hey – Day 29

My hotel room was super comfy. I didn’t get to my room until after 10 pm so comfy mattered. 

The free hotel breakfast also matters when you are fixin’ to eat everything in sight, which I did. Next up was a trip to the WalMart next door for the never ending search for a duffle bag to consolidate my stuff for Amtrak. I almost gave up when an employee out of central casting walked me over to the baggage display and pulls what looked like a small bag off the top shelf, unlike all the other long bags this one was displayed short side out. It was perfect! I think it will hold my tent, sleeping pad, sleeping bag, and more. For riding purposes I put my tent and pad in it and bungled it down on my rack. 

The ride out of Fort Myers involved lots of bike trails, which were not much more than  extra wide sidewalks. I was riding into a headwind as it was but the sidewalk thing was really slowing me down. After a stop to guzzle some Gatorade, I decided to just ride in the road. You’d think that with three lanes to use, drivers could figure out how to pass me, Not in Florida. 

One lovely pick up driver laid on his horn for a good ten seconds. He was in a hurry to catch the next red light. 

In a town called Lehigh Acres I turned onto back roads soon I was in the country mooing at cows and admiring orange groves.

 It wasn’t until I was 25 miles away from the coast that I started seeing damage from hurricane Irma. All the canopies above gas pumps seemed to be missing chunks of their structure.

After 50 miles I made it to the town of LaBelle and decided to call it a day. The next town is 25 miles away. I’m only 120 miles from Ft Lauderdale. 

I booked a room in a motel that is actually a small apartment. I have a back porch over looking the Caloochahatchie River. Maybe I’ll see some gators. 

I’ll probably add a couple miles to my 50.5 mile trip total as I search the environs for chow. That means by the time I lay me down to sleep I’ll have covered 2,048 miles.

No Way So Hey – Day 28

Most people of my time in Key West these last two days has been taken up riding around town. The island was one mile wide and one mile long. And it is flat as a board. 

I have been riding in sandals and going very, very slowly just taking in the sights. I rolled along the sea wall bike path to take in what I missed during my weary entry to town on Saturday. The ocean was calm and dotted here and there with fishing boats. A long pier extended out and I rode to its end. Two women were doing yoga together. They seemed quite accomplished and unbothered by the sea birds nearby. 

At the start of the pier was a memorial to Key West’s AIDS victims. So many names but also so much blank space. Was it designed before medical advances or are there so many more names to come?

After a few hours of comfortable weather, the sun does its thing and the town becomes uncomfortably hot and muggy. Nobody seems to mind sweating through their clothing. 

The town has chickens darting about. They out number pidgrons and add a bit of kooky noise in the early morning and in the evening.

Most of the inns have plenty of vacancies now that the long weekend is over. I don’t know if I’d like this place if it were full of tourists. Right now it has a sleepiness to it that suits my mood. 

I met a bike shop employee yesterday who moved here from Capitol Hill 12 years ago. He gives tours by bike. He said if you’re not into cats skip the Hemingway house. It has more than 50 cats inside. They have 6 toes. I checked out the house from the street. I’m not a cat person, regardless of toes.

I’ve managed to ride another 34 miles here, just cruising around town. Still no sign of a duffle bag but there are WalMarts on my route this week. If I can’t find something I’ll just mail some of my stuff back. I haven’t used my camping gear since Georgia. 

In a few hours I head to the ferry terminal. Then it’s a 3 1/2 hour ride to Fort Myers. I called a motel near the terminal last night. I gave them my name. They said there’s no need for a credit card number to hold the room, “just call when you get on the property.” This should be interesting.

Taking the ferry one day earlier than planned gives me three days to cross Florida. Instead of being two 85 mile days, I’ll ride between 50 and 65 miles per day. 

My rear shifted cable is freezing up. This is not a big deal. The Mule will be getting some serious maintenance when we get home. 

With another 42.5 miles in the books, the tour has reached 1,995.5 miles, just a hair under 500 miles per week. 

Late Update

Inn anticipation of a tough boat ride I ate lightly. A cup of ice cream, a coffee, and a scone. I continued to ride around town and encountered people helping an old man lying in the street. A motel worker stuck his head out the window. I made a hand signal for a telephone and mouth “call 911”. 

The police arrived within minutes. I bystander told me the man was riding a scooter and stopped. The scooter toppled over on him. He was conscious and was in some pain but I think he’ll be okay in a few days. 

Before getting on the ferry I happened upon a book store. An honest to go book store. Of course, I went in and bought a book. I have a 30 hour train ride on Friday.

The ferry terminal lounge was up a flight of stairs. The elevator was out so I had to unload The Mule, lug all six items of stuff up the stairs, lug The Mule up the stairs, then reassemble the whole thing so that it could be inspected, dissected, and disinfected by the local security people. Not a single passenger was asked to show the contents of their carry on bags. I feel safer now.

The boat was big and powerful and fast. I stayed inside and read. There was no wifi and no cell phone services I couldn’t listen to the Nats playoff game. Only after we arrived did I learn that they lost. 

I walked my bike off the boat. It was darker than dark outside. Good thing I brought my Stella headlight. I rode s budy highway to the hotel that I had arranged. The manager never returned my calls to sign me in so I threw in the towel on economizing and booked a room in a Hampton Inn. I rode another mile or two along my room to get to it. The desk clerk gave me two bottles of water st check in and the senior discount. Breakfast is also included. And there is a WalMart next store so maybe I’ll solve the duffle bag problem.

It was great to be back out on the road on the fully loaded Mule. Tomorrow should be no more than 60 miles. 

No Way So Hey – Day 27

And so The Mule and rider rested.

I got about 10 hours of sleep last night at the hostel. I had my ear plugs in. Sorry if I snored roomies, I was dead to the world. 

Last night’s dinner at a Cuban restaurant, El Siboney, was a bit of a risk, I’ve gotten sick on Cuban food three times in the past. The Omega in Adams Morgan (DC) was a two-time offender. It was delicious but something got to my tummy.

The hostel is crowded. People were hanging  out in the courtyard and listening to Latin music. It was a fun vibe. 

Today was a day off. I rolled slowly around town without the pile of stuff I brought with me. The Mule felt like a carbon fiber bike.  I wore my Tevas and a floppy hat. Hello tropics.

I had a hearty breakfast at Camille’s another Cuban place. The two restaurants and the bar I went to last night are away from the touristy strip called Duval Street. 

I rolled through town and found the ferry terminal. It turns out the ferry doesn’t run on Tuesday or Wednesday, so I’m leaving on the Monday evening boat. Yeah well. 

I spent a few hours shopping for essentials. Sunscreen, soap, Dramamine. I looked in vain for a big bag to consolidate my luggage. Maybe I’ll just ship some of it back. I’ve got time to figure it out.

I stopped at a bike shop and had my front brake adjusted. Suffice it to say this bike is going to get beaucoup TLC when I get home. 

Back at the hostel I did my roomies a favor and did laundry. Truth be told, my clothes don’t smell bad. They’ve been rinsed every afternoon by Mother Nature.

I also lubed my chain. It has been exposed to too much salt and sand and water. Thank god I missed the king tide here a few days ago. The streets were flooded.

After being all grown up, I rolled to Mary Ellen’s bar for a grilled cheese sandwich. Amanda (my former co-worker and advance person for travel destinations) made me do it. You were right Amanda. Muy bueno.

No one called me Forrest Gump today. 

Also, special thanks to Katie Lee for cheering in my absence at Nats Park last night. The sound on the bat TV was off but I could hear you and your crew loud and clear!

Tonight it’s drinks and maybe dinner with Melissa. I have all day tomorrow to hang out.

No Way So Hey – Day 26

I began the day dowingca quart of sports drink and 1/3rd of a sub sandwich. And then I hit the road at 8 am. 

The directions were easy: Go south. 

Storm debris increased with each passing mile. Some stretches were perfectly clear, probably because crews had finished the clean up. In other areas piles of debris ran down one side of the road. 

The middle Keys got hit hardest and it showed. Debris was strewn among the mangroves along the east side of the road. Roadside piles were bigger and bigger. At a state park a consolidation area was set up. Plant based debris was being ground up into a mulch. Lord knows what will be done with the appliances, furniture, and house parts I saw. South of marathon the mother of all debris piles stretched on and on. Mount Irma. It’s hard to believe a month has passed. I can only imagine what Puerto Rico is dealing with. 

Under normal conditions there would be flowers and breezes. Now junk and smell. 

Any discomfort I might have on this trip pales in comparison to what these people have been going through for the last month and a half.

If I had s place to stay in the middle Keys I’d have gone to the sea turtle rescue place of the dolphin research center. But the only place to stay was in Key West. 

The morning was cool and humid. Then the clouds burned off. It got hot. I drank and drank and drank. I forced myself to eat so that I wouldn’t bonk.

As it turned out stores were open almost all the way to Key West. I stood in one. A young Israeli dude started talking to me about the ride. He was incredulous. Hr called me Forest Gump. Just last night a convenience store clerk did the same. Bike Forrest! Bike!

The ride wasn’t all trashy debris. Many miles were spent in bridges with the Atlantic on my left and the Gukf of Mexico on my right. The water was a pale green. Just beautiful.

I rode on the shoulder of US 1 and never had a problem with cars. One picked up pulling a trailer right hooked me at an intersection but he was no match for The Mule.

(The bike path along US 1 would have been nice but it was blocked by debris so often as to be useless. Near the heart of the storm it was torn to pieces.)

I crossed the seven mile bridge. Seven miles with ocean and gulf. Jesus. What a ride.

At 80 miles the skies turned black, just like yesterday. Temperatures dropped. Ran fell. The storm passed. I rolled into Key West and took the path along the sea wall.

I ended up at the Southernmost point in the 48 states. No more road. 


Former co-worker Melissa is in town. She was an all star on Mrs. Rootchopper’s staff. She steered me to a local Cuban place. I ate all the food. So good. 

And so I rode 101 miles today, 1,953 miles to the end of the road. Time for s few days of rest before a ferry, two more days of biking, and a long train ride home. 

No Way So Hey – Day 25

I stayed up late searching to no avail for lodging in Key Largo. I slept soundly. When I woke, I used the Google and found a cottage in Key Largo for $148.  I booked it. Anybody want the second bed?

After chatting briefly with my two young German roomies, I rolled away from home sweet hostel with my rather sad free breakfast. A few ounces of OJ, a cup of yoghurt, and a chewy granola bar.

I went to the beach. You can see container and cruise ships looming off the coast. They remind me of the existence of worlds I know nothing about.

I cleaned and lined The Mule’s chain for the third time during this tour. And off we went over the ironically named Venetian Causway to play with a shit ton of cars beneath huge buildings. (I know a housing bubble when I see one and this one goes on for miles.)

Riding at rush hour in unfamiliar cities is blood sport. I nearly ended my tour when a moment of inattentiveness almost caused me to ride into the back of a stopped car. It was an Uber picking up a passenger. No signal. Stopped in the middle of the lane. I hate Uber.

If you want to see climate change in action, come to Miami at high tide. The ocean comes up through the storm drains. I am not making this up. It was a foot deep, maybe more, in two intersections that I rode through.

The downtown frolic led me to the M Trail a bike trail that follows the Metro line southeast out of town. Great idea except for the crosswalks every tenth of a mile. Starting The Mule up over and over again was exhausting. Also wayfaring signs are rare. I followed a connecting path into a shopping mall parking lot. Complicating things further was the fact that storm debris obstructed the trail in scores of locations.

Once the Metro rail line ended the path followed a dedicated BusWay along US 1. When I got tired of debris or tree roots I just rode on the BusWay.

All the stops and starts made it impossible for me to get into s flow. It took over 4 hours to go 30 miles. And there was no food anywhere other than gas stations. I was dragging tail.

When the trail ended I joined US 1. For 1/4 mile there was no shoulder. I dreaded the thought of riding this for over 100 miles. Soon the roadway widened and I had a shoulder that was nearly as wide as the travel lane.

I was no making a beeline for Key Largo through the Everglades. There was a chain link fence separating me from the creatures from the ‘Glades.

Of course there was quite a lot of debris on the shoulder. At one spot there were big shards of glass as much as 1/4 inch thick. I got through that only to encounter, and I am not making this up, dozens of pigs feet. They looked rather recently cleaved from their owners.

Up to this point it was hot and humid with a headwind. Then the sky turned black. He died from a lightning strike then a gator tore him to pieces.

The black sky brought a ten degree drop in temperatures then a cooling rain. Well done weather gods.

Wetlands gave way to waterways and finally Key Largo. I made it to the Florida Keys, Bert. Whadda ya know about that!

The final bit of business was finding the cottage I rented. It is at the south end of Key Largo. On the way I passed a collection point for storm debris. This is only part of it.

The pile out of frame to the left had tree debris and household items all mixed together.

Then I found my home for the night.

I did another 70.5 miles for a tour total of 1,852 miles.

I bought a bunch of sandwiches at a Subway and some water. After Islamorada, the next Key south, there is nothing but destruction for 70+ miles. I thought I would have to be self dependent but the clerk at the place I am staying said that gas stations are open on the road to Key West.

The plan is to arrive in Key West after 100 miles of pedaling and crash in a hostel.

No Way So Hey – Day 24

Renee and I stayed up past midnight telling stories about all the defective people on our lives. Just kidding. We did stay up late though aided by her kids Rob and Julia. Julia has the darkest brown eyes. Like my son’s.

After a big breakfast prepared by mother and daughter, I was sent on my way. I forgot to take their picture. I am a shitty friend.

The ride out of West Palm Beach and back to the shore was reasonably easy except for this one dump truck that nearly ran me over. I caught up to it and explained to the driver as calmly as a mindful person could that he was a fucking asshole. I am grateful that his window was open so that he could hear every syllable.

I reached the Indian River and encountered some road flooding. I rode through it because I am so waterlogged after a week of rain that I don’t give a dam (water pun).

Next I climbed over the bridge to Mar-a-Lago. The most impressive thing about the place was the American flag. It was yuge. I couldn’t find the entrance so I took a picture of its rectum.

Then it was down the coast on Scenic A1A. The traffic was not bad at all. There was some more flooding and obvious hurricane damage to trees but nothing too extreme.

Down the  coast then across the intracostal waterway to the mainland then back to the coast. Over and over. The houses and resorts were more bigly than Mar-a-Lago from what I could see. And the condo complexes were bigger with each passing mile. When they were on my right, away from the beach, they caused a wind reversal that blasted me with headwinds.

I was earning the miles today.

During my final crossing of the intracostal waterway an iguana ran across the road in front of me. He was two or three feet long. Then another one ran across. Eek.

My route took me to a non-wooden boardwalk in Hollywood Beach. I slalomed through the tourists. Eventually I was back on A1A which was now a big highway all the way to Miami Beach. It was ten miles of vehicular cycling on a two wheeled tank.

Not much fun, especially when a black BMW missed side swiping me by inches. I caught up to it at a light. The driver was texting, I yelled at her to put her phone down. She looked away, took a right on red, and nearly hit a pedestrian in the crosswalk. La di dah. Life’s a beach.

As I reached South Beach people looked like they weren’t from Indianapolis. Men dressed like women. (Martha, did you see that! Oh my!) Women dressed as men. Dudes driving Maseratis and Lamborghinis. What a change from the rural poor of South Carolina.

I made it to my hostel a block from the ocean on South Beach. Nice place. Very clean. Could use much better bike parking.

I went to dinner. The street was closed to cars and lined with restaurants. Hosts and hostesses tried to entice you to eat st their restaurant. I told one I told one of them that the scene reminded me of Melbourne, Australia.

Tacos and a beer cost more than my lodging at the HI hostel. And the hostel will give me breakfast.

I did not go to the beach, I am beached out.

So it was an 81.5 mile day. I’ve ridden 1,781.5 miles so far.

Tomorrow is on to Key Largo. The real adventure begins. The road to Key West is open but I may have to ride through in one day. 108 miles. It’s like a marathon. The first half is 20 miles. The second half is a brutal 10K.

Pedal, pedal.

No Way So Hey – Day 23

I awoke at 1 am in my cozy room at the Knights Inn of Vero Beach. I was STARVING.  So I ate the PB&J that Jackie had made me two days ago. And I drank a bike bottle of water. Then I passed out.

I awoke to daylight. What a strange sight after days of rain and clouds. I put on my WABA socks because it is WABA socks Wednesday. 

I left a little late and was furthered delayed because I couldn’t bring myself to pass up the IHOP two blocks into my 83 mile route. 

Finally on the road at 9,  I had only bicycling and manatees on my mind. The first order of business was to climb a bridge over the Indian River to the barrier island to the east. A hill and a headwind are no way to start the day.

I have had a headcold for a few days. Today the cold started to get better. I noticed that I was unusually thirsty. So I pedaled and drank while riding along the dunes. Unlike previous rides this week, I was not sandblasted. Don’t know why; don’t much care. The surf was raging once again. 

Each time I crossed an inket or stream I checked for manatees and sea turtles. I saw none. I had to content myself with egrets and pelicans.  There was some flooding on the road as well.  I dodged crabs and little lizards as they skittered across the roadway.

I left the barrier island at Fort Pierce only to return a mile later.

From time to time I left the ride to ride on the bike trail along side. 

The houses along this island were posh, some were overdone. Many new houses were being built. They were advertised as hurricane proof and their concrete framing looked like it.

The sun and my fading cold were dehydrating me so I stopped every 20 miles to drink a 32 ounce soda. Hey, they were only a buck. 

Renee, an old friend from my college days, told me to look for manatees at power plants. I rode by this nuclear plant which also maintained a sea turtle sanctuary. Alas, no cool aquatic creatures were visible. 

A dirt road into a pelican sanctuary was closed.  It looked intriguing but the flooding of been seeing for days made it a bad bet to scout out.

Once again I returned to the mainland for a short distance before returning again to the barrier islands. This time at Hobe Sound. The road was lined with banyan trees. Wow!

I left the route to follow the Google’s directions to my friend Renee’s house.  17 miles of biking in Florida’s rush hour traffic made me feel like I was in LA. It was not a lot of fun but I did happen to go by the new spring training facility of the Washington Nationals baseball team. 

Renee took my picture on approach to her house. I look much thinner than three weeks ago. Better eat more. 

So after chatting up a storm (we hadn’t seen each other in over 37 years) Renne drove me and her daughter Julia to BayBay’s for fried chicken and waffles. Can you say calorie bomb?

Before crashing for the night I made arrangements for lodging at the Hostels  International hostel in Miami Beach tomorrow and for my train ride home. 

An 83 mile day which brings me up to 1,700 miles.