Ian never asked for a bike for Christmas. Sure, my youngest son got one long ago but back in the day my 25 year-old preferred getting around on a skateboard. All that's changed and now he's riding a big brown Salsa Fargo from Austin to Miami.
He stopped in Gainesville this week to share fascinating stories from the road. Ian has met smiles and kindness all through the southern strand. Strangers -who are a part of a network hosting long-distance cyclist- have invited him into their homes. In Louisiana a woman gave Ian a hundred-dollar bill to remind him that Jesus loves him.
My son's adventure has him hugging the coast, from Texas to Miami, far from the interstates that suck us in. On some days he'll take a ferry ride from one island to the next. Francesca and I caught up with him last week 80 miles east of Tallahassee in Lafayette Blue Springs State Park. What a thrill to see his familiar face gliding smooth through the forest that leads to Suwanee and the clear spring next to it.
Moments later we jumped in.
Ian has met many fine people along the journey. Many ask, "What charity are you riding for" and he reminds them that you can do what he's doing just for fun. He told me, "People should not need me on bike to help others" and I tend to agree.
Ian has spent a week with us now eating everything in sight. That's allowed when you are burning 4000 calories a day. Ian's averaged ride is 75 miles a day with his longest stint being 120.
His speed picked up considerably after we reached University Avenue and hugged him goodbye.
Before we parted, Mike, who had just ridden his silver steed from Chicago, rolled up to say hello. He was the first long-distance biker Ian had encountered in a month and 1100 miles.
Nine hours later, he reports, he has set up his campsite next to Salt Springs in Ocala National Forest. "It's so beautiful here," he told me with his usual enthusiasm, "the springs are perfect -not too salty- and I got to swim with crabs and rays!".
It's enough to make his tired old dad consider getting serious about this biking thing. I guess I could do it. Jerry, Ian's 69- year-old campground neighbor tonight, just pedaled his bike from Pennsylvania.
Who knows? I could lose a few pounds, and, perhaps receive occasional reminders that Jesus loves me.
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Ian's left shoe has faded from facing the sun everyday for a month.
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