Day 39, Monticello to White Springs, 78 miles

After our last few days of hard cycling, we slept in and did not have breakfast until seven. We enjoyed chatting with our hostess and then started east again on state route 90. We enjoyed the wide shoulders and light traffic and the shade of the trees. All was forgiven for the heavy traffic in Tallahassee.

We sooned arrived in the lovely historic village of Madison. We took a little cycling tour around the courthouse square and ventured down some side streets to view stately victorian homes. As Ruth was taking her last picture, she realized that her front tire was flat.

Now we were truly on our own-no husbands, no Evelyn, no other cycling groups, and no bike store until Gainsville, a hundred miles away. We calmly got out our tools and directions on how to change a tire. We methodically followed the directions. Twenty minutes later the tube was replaced, pumped up tp 100 psi, and the tire was back on the bike. We were ready to go again.

(proud tire changers!)

We bought a picnic lunch at a nearby grocery store and headed for Suwannee River State Park. Upon entering the park we met other cyclists who are going from St. Francisville, La. to Savannah, Ga. via St. Augustine. They told us that we would have the park to ourselves and we truly did. The view of the river was spectacular and the day was perfect for a picnic - tempeature in the low seventies, low humidity, and a slight breeze.

We were now off of ninety and cycling along real backroads with no traffic. We passed groves of timber, cattle and horse farms, peanut farms, and tomato farms. The locals call this "the other Florida."

Then we saw towering signs for McDonalds and gas stations. What was ahead? It was I-75! Cincinnati is just up the road. Mary Jo desperately tried to turn north but Ruth distracted her by buying McDonald's milkshakes.

We headed into White Springs and are staying at a B&B.

We ate dinner at the local restaurant whose name did not appeal to us. The pork dinner was better than the Odwalla bars fermenting at the bottom of our panniers.

Tomorrow we head to Gainsville; we only have about two hundred miles left to reach the coast.

"Way down upon the Swanee River,
Far, far away,
There's where my heart is turning ever,
There's where the old folks stay.
All up and down the whole creation,
Sadly I roam,
Still longing for the old plantation,
And for the old folks at home." - Steven C. Foster

We are longing to see Bill and Don. We can't wait for Saturday. Ruth & MJ