February 26, 2017 – Travel day through Florida

            Harboring intensions to once again not visit colleges on weekends I set off to cross Florida.  Colleges however put themselves in my path and I do not think I will be able to avoid seeing them in my future travels even when this trip is done.  Tallahassee Community College practically tripped me as I passed through the city.  Locates itself on over a block long section of the town being immediately adjacent to a technical college (affiliation unknown, being Saturday).  Together these two campuses occupy a substantial plot of the city.  All was closed but it was evident what programs were there (welding, barbering certificate, nursing etc.) as each building housed a different program with large signage on the outside.  I cruised as many parking lots as they had and finding nobody there moved on.

            Spending most of the day making my way to the eastern part of the state I contemplated continuing on a straight line to Jacksonville and beyond so that I could say I had reached the Atlantic.  That would have been possible but then I would find myself again at nightfall looking for a place to stay the night and that has proved to be unsettling.

            I went south at Lake City knowing there were national forests and potential camping in the median portion of the peninsula.  At first I set the GPS to the nearest KOA, but these are tricky for motorcycle campers such as myself.  I have been pitching a tent each night and the campgrounds located within cities only allow for RV camping.  Many other cities, like San Francisco struggle with ordinances that ban tent camping on city streets.  Consequentially when I camp I make a diurnal trek into the wilderness in order to find a place to stay.

            Todays journey aided by another blind search for a KOA campground took me into an area of the state I never would have seen.  Very remote rural Florida where confederate flags once again appeared on most homes and I could feel eyes upon me wherever I stopped… or slowed down long enough for the indigenous population to see I was not riding on a Harley.  Unlike in Alabama the flags were flying in areas where most of the population was white.

            When I got to the campground it was more of a parking lot, filled with RV’s each one sporting one or more of those Polaris type off road buggies.  The four wheeled vesicles that look like outback golf carts and were designed for hunters.  It turns out the lake where the camp was allows for off road use and the vehicle of choice was the proverbial SUV golf cart.  It was clearly a place where the locals camped in order to let off some steam.  I rapidly ascertained that this would not be a quiet spot for the night and moved on.  Eventually I found one of the last spots at a campsite in the National Forest about 30 miles away and had a quiet night befriending a fellow BMW rider originally from Connecticut, who was the camp monitor.

            Comfort zone is a strange thing.  When the purpose of travel is to expose you to new things, yet we are drawn to and comforted by the familiar.  Perhaps if I had stayed with the first campground I would have changed my opinion about four wheeled off road riders but the truth was I was very tired from the ride and just needed to rest.  Part of this journey for me is figuring out how to take care of myself and still engage the world in a positive way.  Perhaps tomorrow I will fund an easier way to engage those still flying the confederate flag…