7/2/00
Savannah, GA
Mileage 29.4 miles
Max. 24.4 mph
Avg. 12.67 mph
A day for endings. Highway 80 ends on Tybee Island 18 miles east of Savannah. So too did my coast to coast trek over the past 32 days.
The so called "continental breakfast" at my motel was a big help in getting me there. As has become typical for the past four weeks, I worked to fill up with liquid and with complex carbohydrates--four large cups of juice, two bowls of dry cereal, two donuts, a toasted bagel with cream cheese, a cup of yogurt, topped off with a quarter cup of coffee. More than that forces too many stops. A breakfast of this sort would hold through 10 or 11 when, if I was riding all day, I would begin an hourly snack routine.
On the way through Savannah I came upon an unusual sight--hundreds of Navacort nasal spray samples dumped along the road.
Inside the freeway, Savannah is a small and beautiful city. What with the grid of streets connecting parks with all sorts of interesting histories and the trees draped with Spanish moss over arching those streets, biking through is the best way to enter the city. Maybe a convertible might do as well but less efficiently.
US Route 80 runs through the city then hops over tidal pools separating several islands using high bridges. In fact much of the road through the islands is made up of bridges. Trouble is the shoulder is narrow on them and once again, I felt vulnerable despite the early hour and the day of week (Sunday).
On seeing the beach, I felt obliged to plow the bike through the sand to waters edge to wet the front tire. I was surrounded by people on the beach but I felt compelled to speak with someone I knew. I called my wife, my mother, and several members of the UK promotions office staff. I thought of my father and wished he had lived to enjoy the moment with me--he just passed away in May.
I felt glad to be finished with the trek but there was no burst of Yahoo! Calm and a passive absorption with the beauty of the ocean dominated my thoughts and feelings. I realized there would be no more continuously unveiling panorama of geography, culture, food, and people; no more preoccupation with weather and hills; no more moments of real terror where catastrophe-avoided-only-by-inches is commonplace; no more exhilarating moments born out of living as free as it is possible in this 21st century.
The photographer's arrival brought back business as usual. We found a lighthouse and a more secluded stretch of sand for pictures.
Not wanting to battle the growing traffic back into the city (the trek was over at that point), I bummed a ride with the photographer who dropped me a ways from Forsythe Park. A small group of UK alums, UK President Wethington and his wife, and the press awaited my arrival to celebrate. I felt honored by their reception which was the final, formal event of UK Across America.
The next day was spent disassembling the bicycle and flying us both back to Lexington. At the airport, I weighed in as follows:
Bike 32 lbs.
Equipment 26 lbs., plus one full water
bottle 2 lbs.
Me 146 lbs.
Total 206 lbs.
With the trek complete and successfully at that, it is important to recognize those who took risks, worked hard, and accompanied me all along the way: