We pedaled on, crossing the bridges and causeways, heading over the river to Eastpoint. We passed some modest gated communities, but mostly we saw pleasant small homes with the kind of waterfront views only mansions have in Miami. Rural living does have its good points. The vehicle of choice in front of most homes was the ubiquitous pickup truck.
We pedaled down to a boat ramp, watched a couple of boats being put in, and turned around to pedal back over the causeway. Pedal, pedal, snap!, whirr-rrr-rrr, (clink).
Oh, crap. I couldn’t believe it: My chain just broke. I stood over my bike staring at it as Al pedaled back to me.
Do we have a chain tool? Do we know how to use a chain tool? Do we care if we have a chain tool? We talked briefly (maybe 2 nanoseconds) before saying, "A bike shop can fix this!" Al rode off with a little wave. He’d go get our car. I’d walk, pushing the bike, until he came back.
My little walk wasn’t without interest. I watched an eagle catch a fish, enjoyed a close fly-over by a pelican, and took some photos of the bay. Soon Al was there with the car. He put my bike on the bike rack and we headed back to Apalachicola.
And guess what? There’s no bike shop in Apalachicola or any of the nearby towns! (Crap.) The nearest reliable bike shop is about 80 miles away in Tallahassee.
So we set off to Tallahassee with the bike. By this point our mood had improved. There wasn’t much we could do about the situation, so we set about enjoying the trip to Tallahassee and making plans for dinner. Dinner in a charming little restaurant we saw on our bike ride today.
All’s well that ends well.
(Miles today: 27.1)