The only things worth learning are the things you learn after you know it all. (Harry S Truman)

This past week I spent time organizing my 2018 digital albums and journals. My notes, plans, thoughts, and memories are totally digital these days. While storage space is virtually unlimited, clutter just keeps me from appreciating the good stuff I chose to keep to remember 2018.

As I diligently worked at deleting the junk and trivia, I saw a pattern emerge in the files and photos that remained. During 2018 I had begun doing solitary rides. Riding alone but not being in the least bit lonely. This was something new.

Of course there were still lots of rides with Al and friends.  There are benefits to riding with a group. A group is more easily seen on the road than a single rider, and riding in a group allows you to benefit from drafting, letting you ride farther and faster with less effort. But it requires more disciplined focus. Riding in a group means learning to focus fully on the bikes and riders around you, riding predictably and following group ride rules and etiquette.

But in 2018 I learned the benefits of riding on my own. I get to go where I want and stop when and where I want. I was surprised to find it makes me much more aware of traffic. My eyes are always scanning back and forth across the road ahead of me. I'm hypersensitive to movements around me, as dogs, pedestrians, and crazy squirrels and peacocks have been known to appear quite suddenly. I do have one small confession: I have no shame about using my sweetest, sunniest, septuagenarian smile, or doing my best abuelita performance, if I think it might give me an edge with drivers when I'm trying to get through a sticky piece of traffic.

Success at taking long rides alone has built my confidence and has, to my surprise, made me a happier person.

Not a bad thing to learn at any age.

You must enjoy the journey because whether or not you get there, you must have fun on the way. (Kalpana Chawla)

I took a solo century ride this week. I did it in Miami, and I did it like I was on a trip. Travel style. The idea was to enjoy the scenery and people and not to worry about how fast I was riding or how long it took me to finish the route.

I started out from home, heading to Everglades National Park (ENP) following a route that took me through beautifully landscaped residential neighborhoods, with stops at places with lovely water views of Biscayne Bay, and through the Redland Agricultural District with its miles of exotic trees, fields of tomatoes and beans, and nurseries of tropical landscape shrubs.

My meandering route made the entrance to ENP exactly 50 miles from my home. After a stop at the visitor center, I headed back on the same route I had taken to ENP, enjoying the curious fact that things look different (and that you notice different things) when you are heading in the opposite direction on a ride.

Talking with strangers is an under appreciated amusement of travel. I chatted with a man carrying an unbelievable number of grocery bags on his bike. ("I've got company coming, and I didn't want to make two trips to the grocery store," he explained with a shrug and a shy smile.) I talked with and took pictures of tourists at Everglades National Park and Robert Is Here. I met a couple from Milwaukee, and we talked about Wisconsin.

A solo century like this one is easy. You spend a day seeing your own city as a tourist might. And it is an adventure that even a timid traveler can accomplish. Yes, things can happen. Bikes break down; weather gets weird. But a ride like this is local, and home is just a call away, whether that call is to Uber or a friend.

All I can say is, the best holiday presents are often the ones you give yourself. And this year I gave myself a solo century ride, travel style, and it was great fun.

If you're not lost, you're not much of an explorer. (John Perry Barlow)

GPS and navigation programs have made getting around a lot easier for people like me who are (ahem) navigationally challenged. I use my bike's Garmin Edge for navigation, but when I'm riding around a town or city, I find the map app on my phone infinitely more helpful. Why? Because it talks to me. "In 1000 feet, turn right onto 22nd Street." And if I wander off my course, it politely nags me back onto my route. "Make a u-turn, then turn right on 11th Street." Way, way better than the "beep" the Garmin makes as I approach a turn. So it's not unusual for me to use both the Garmin and the phone app on a city ride.

I've been exploring Miami on my bike. Now Miami and the close in communities like the Gables, the Grove, Midtown and Miami Beach are pretty easy. But as you go farther afield into the suburbs, things get more challenging.

Take my most recent ride from my home in Brickell to the wilds of West Kendall and back. Kendall and West Kendall are the true suburban wilderness for a downtown dweller like me. Looping side streets, cul-de-sacs galore, elevated freeways with few crossing points, major roads without bike lanes, strip malls randomly scattered about, and other car-centric/bicycle-unfriendly features. I did about a 50 mile ride, at least half of it doing loops on roads while the little navigation voice in my right ear was nagging me to do this and to do that so I'd get back to my designated route. All to avoid route segments I felt were too dangerous for me to ride. (And I am not an overly timid rider.) It was totally insane.

But I had a great time, and I plan to do this a lot more.

I do not burn bridges. I just loosen the bolts a little each day. (Unknown)

I don't want a divorce, just a trial separation. 

My clipless pedals are not working for me lately. I need a break from them. I found a pair of studded flat mountain bike pedals among our old bike gear, bagged them, and took my road bike a couple of blocks down the street to our local bike shop. The bike mechanic raised his eyebrows, obviously questioning my request. But I was not going to overshare and discuss the matter with him. In minutes I was leaving, my clipless pedals bagged, the flat pedals installed on my road bike.

The foot and ankle contain a quarter of the bones in the body (26). There are 33 joints, and about a hundred muscles, ligaments, and tendons. I've always had foot and ankle issues. They were complicated in middle age by arthritis. Recently I'd been having problems using clipless pedals. Pulling even a little with the pedal system was painful. I was getting ankle cramps during and after rides. In short, problems from the clipless pedals were outweighing benefits.

This weekend we went to Clermont, Florida, for the Horrible Hundred. We were doing our usual Horrible Hundred kilometers, the 70 mile route. And (cue the drum roll) it went wonderfully. No problems on the flats. No problems on the climbs. And during and after the ride, no foot or ankle pain or cramps.

I'm going to see if the "trial separation" from my clipless pedals lets my feet and ankles recover. I'll do some stretching and strengthening exercises, and I'll spend my Tuesdays out on Virginia Key and Key Biscayne practicing pedaling smooth little circles with studded flat pedals.

I like my clipless pedals. Maybe a trial separation is all that is needed. (Watch this space.)

The Inaugural Florida Tour de Force Southern Leg (Coral Gables to Key Largo)

Everglades Bicycle Club (EBC) member Ruben Fuentes has touted Florida Tour de Force for some time. When Ruben helped EBC bring a new Tour de Force segment, the Southern Leg, to the Miami area, we just couldn't pass it up. A police escorted group ride with a pace car, from the Denny's in Coral Gables to the Denny's on Key Largo with the trip home by charter bus. And the ride benefits the families of fallen law enforcement officers. Nice.

So the second Saturday in November found us with almost 200 other cyclists at the Denny's in Coral Gables, waiting for our pace car, a black Lamborghini no less, to lead us down the road to the Keys.

The route took us to the Miami-Homestead Speedway for a loop on the track. A nice route via Card Sound Road to Key Largo. Rest stops were at Denny's located along the way. The ride was around 67 miles, a little over a metric century. The pace car, ride leaders, and SAG vehicles contained the riders to simplify keeping the route clear of traffic and safe. Riders who had mechanical problems or fell behind got picked up by the SAG truck and transported to the next group rest stop.

What's the One Big Thing to know about this ride? OK. This ride is not about speed. It's the fun being part of a police escorted group ride. Police motorcycles, lights flashing, leapfrogging ahead to hold traffic at stop lights and intersections. While the cyclists just pedal happily along: Traffic waits for the cyclists! That, people, is worth twice the current cost of the ride.

If you missed this year's ride, don't miss the next one. I know Al and I will be there.

Three Rivers and a Submarine

St. Marys is a tiny historic Georgia coastal town just north of the Florida line. Nearby is Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay. On the first Saturday of November, St. Marys has a great little bicycle event called the Three Rivers Ride.

Last year I did the ride on my own. (Al was recovering from some tricep surgery.) This year we both got to do the ride. The route is lovely and coastal rural. It stops by the Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay, Crooked River State Park, and darts along the coastal salt marsh. Route marking is excellent. SAG vehicles roam the route attentively. Ride marshals are also on the route if needed. Rest stops are frequent and nicely stocked. And the after-ride meal is pure coastal small-town wonderful: a bountiful array of slow cookers filled with homemade chilis of every description made by bicycle club volunteers. All staged in a charming downtown riverfront park adjacent to the Cumberland Island ferry dock.

We like this ride so much we plan to do it again next year. Including another stop for even more barbecue at Willie Jewell's restaurant. The Sloppy Pig sandwich (cole slaw topped pulled pork) with a side of Brunswick stew is purely wonderful. And next year we'll take some time to catch the ferry to Cumberland Island, too.

Simplicity is making the journey of this life with just baggage enough. (Charles Dudley Warner)

Keeping old bicycle gear is a luxury we can't afford. We live in a tiny home, a studio condominium.

When I got new bicycle travel bags this year, getting rid of our old touring bags became a priority. But it took three attempts before I finally made the old gear go away.

Many years ago we had panniers. I hated them. They were noisy, always needing adjustment, and awkward to pack. We replaced them with several sizes of rear hard-side trunk bags that we used for years. They worked well on trips, but they took up a lot of space when not in use.

It was easier to part with the old bikes than the old bike bags.

The bags held memories. Before I could part with them, I found I had to spend a little time archiving those memories. Then I was ready. We pulled the bags and racks into a pile. Some we threw away. Some we donated.

It was surprising to feel sadness and loss for something as prosaic as travel bags. But of course the sadness was simply the bittersweet feeling you get whenever you deal with change. Stuff changes. If you're lucky, little is lost and some things get better.

And besides, now we have just baggage enough.