I made it to 5am. The inevitable “Knock! Knock! Knock!” came and I sprung out of bed to meet the law. It was a young guy in the security smart car and he seemed embarrassed he was having to kick me out. He mumbled that his boss had just seen me so sent him to do the deed. “No worries!” I said and off I went. I was desperate for a bathroom and didn’t think I should use the Walmart one so drove to a nearby Burger King only to find it was closed. Now really desperate, I drove through some backstreets until I found a dark spot and relieved myself. Not very exotic I know, but when you gotta go, you gotta go! I crawled back into bed, pondering what to do next. I was keen for a bit more sleep so I got another two hours shuteye where I was and no one bothered me. Then, I was ready to start my day!
I drove on to Markham Park, which I found easily enough, but was keen to get out of South Florida. The traffic and the built-up cities were not tickling my fancy. Once I got to the park, I balked at the gates that demanded an entry fee, but they only charged on weekends so I was safe. I parked and made breakfast. A French guy came over to see my setup because he was considering a similar lifestyle and we chatted a while before he rode away on his super-expensive road bike. There were quite a lot of road riders around, all head to toe in lycra and flashy bikes that were mounted to flashy bike racks on very flashy cars. I don’t like this part of Florida.
It got worse when I drove over to the mountain bike trailhead. I easily had the shittest car and shittest bike there and it made me angry. I could tell none of these guys were hard riders and here they were with their Santa Cruz’s and Treks with way more travel than they needed for these types of trails. While it would have been nice to just get my bike off the roof and ride away, I discovered another tear in my rear tyre (I really need to replace it) so spent some time fixing that, then when I went to put some more air in my rear shock, it deflated itself right after I removed the pump because the pin wasn’t staying centered. Uggh. I fixed it up and carried my shock pump with me just in case. In the end, I had no more issues.
The trails were great. Similar to what I’d ridden in Ocala and probably all the trails in Florida, they were flat, but had some great features built in. The best bit? No fire road. Trailforks probably had only 50% of the trails marked but there was no need for it, every trail was really well signed and they were all one way, so I jude rode where the signs took me. The whole network was about 20km and that included doing two laps of “Gun Range” because it was so much fun. IT’s so called because the park is right next to a gun range and it was obviously popular because all I hear was a constant “Pop! Pop! Bang! Pop!” as I rode.
I met a local, Robert, in between my two laps of “Gun Range” and he told me about some trail networks to hit down south and out west, which are always nice tips to have. I got a bit lost trying to get out of the trail network and funnily enough, found myself on the “Déjà vu” trail for the second time. When I tried a small bridge I’d bypassed last time, my ass hit the dirt hard when I came off, so it was definitely time to call it. At the exit of the trails, I played around on the pump track and skills park for a bit before giving the bike and me a hose down at their facilities before loading everything back onto the car.
I didn’t do a very good job with the surfboard because as soon as I hit the highway, it came out of place so I pulled over to fix it. I still didn’t do very well because when I got back on the highway, same thing happened, only this time it completely flipped over. I stopped on the highway this time, worries it would fly off and I was pissed to discover that in its flip, the corner panel had cut into the foam. Lesson learnt I guess. I did a brilliant job tying it down this time and it stayed put. That dampened my mood a little.
Driving through Hollywood beach made my mood even worse. More high rises and filthy wealth, traffic and payment required for everything. I hit rock bottom when I was driving behind a black AMG Mercedes (very flash car) driven by a guy who looked like he was fifteen, with all his friends with him, music blaring, weaving through the almost stopped traffic. That only really made me sigh, but when I saw the passenger throw a half-empty Burger King cup out the window, I was appalled. Why do such disgusting people live in this world? To have such a blatant disregard for everything around them, I felt really depressed by this.
After Google maps took me on a sightseeing tour, I found my way to Oleta River State Park. This was another recommendation for mountain biking and swimming. This was a $4 fee and the ranger at the entrance didn’t even offer me any information about the park, I had to ask and she was not very forthcoming or welcoming. Great.
I had lunch in the carpark and rested a bit before repeating this morning’s process and going out for another ride. Again, a similar style network with all single track (yay!) but these trails were more relentless technical-wise. On some of the far-out trails, it was non-stop, which was brilliant. I didn’t see any ‘gators, but the mangroves I was riding through sure looked like they’d house some. I rode my heart out, feeling tired towards the end, but loving the little steep climbs and technical sections. They even had some sweet jumps.
When I finished, I rode straight to the swimming beach, got down to my underwear and dipped myself in. It was most-refreshing. My timing was perfect. By the time I got back to the car, the wind was starting to pick up and the warmth was leaving the day. I still had enough time to have a much-needed cold shower to wash the sweat and salt water from my body and leave the park before its closing time of 6pm.
I drove towards Miami Beach where I was meeting Tuuli, a friend of friends back in Brisbane. I was not looking forward to finding a park somewhere, but had accepted that I would be forking out some money. As I approached North Beach, I came upon a few old-style blue buses called trolleys. On the back, it said they were free Miami shuttles. I pulled over immediately and found that there was free parking in the area and I was right by a shuttle stop. Unfortunately there were no spaces so I just sat and Googled the shuttles to see if they would take me where I wanted to go. Indeed they did! Just as I looked up from my phone, I spied a spot right in front of me, so nailed it. No payment required!
Feeling pretty chuffed with myself, I walked the block to the trolley, hoping where I’d parked wasn’t a dodgy neighbourhood and my bike would remain on the roof. A trolley came along after a few minutes and I was on my way. I was glad not to be driving through the hectic traffic at night, so was a good solution. I was the only tourist on the bus that knew what I was doing. Everyone else spoke in poor English, asking if this shuttle would take them where they wanted to go. Thankfully there was one local on the bus that set everyone straight. I connected to another shuttle which dropped me right at Lincoln Mall. It was such a beautiful warm night.
I slowly wandered the mall, stopping in at a few shops, but mostly people-watching. It was so obvious everyone was a tourist like me and A La Carte dining was definitely the activity of choice. I got to the Yard House and sat at a table out the front to wait for Tuuli who came along five minutes later. We have a lot in common, both being outdoors freaks and health nuts. She had spent the last year in Brisbane and met all my mates so we had plenty of stories to swap. I treated myself to a $30 steak, which was super yummy, and I had two beers, also a nice change from my usual diet.
We talked away but finally called it a night around 10:30pm with plans to catch up again on the weekend. I wasn’t going to spend any more time in Miami beach, it’s not my scene. The shuttles back to my car were seamless and the Astro was just as I left her. I set my navigation and drove west, heading for a casino that offered free overnight RV camping (which I’d phoned ahead and confirmed). Unfortunately it was an hour away and I had to get petrol on my way, but I was looking forward to a legal camp. On my way, I felt the police presence. I’d never seen so many of them! Every corner I turned there were flashing lights, it’s a surprise I didn’t hurt my neck from looking around so much, making sure I wasn’t the culprit. Must be a dodgy place. Being late and me being tired, I swear I got every red light, including one for a drawbridge that took an incredibly long time.
Derek messaged me around midnight, concerned that he hadn’t seen my SPOT yet but I assured him I was just having a late night, still nice of him to check on me. When the casino loomed, I was grateful and hoped I wouldn’t have any issue. I checked in with security inside and he issued me a permit for the next few nights, all very official with a printed piece of A4 paper to put on my dash. I found a spot in a dark corner and set up camp. Just as I was about to get in the car, a security man drove along and stopped in front of me. He said something about policy and that I can’t just sleep here in my car. I didn’t understand why, I explained that it wasn’t a car, it’s a camper van! He still wasn’t convinced, but when I told him I had a permit, he said I was ok. Bloody oath, I better be ok!