Day 44: Niceville, Florida, to Blountstown, Florida

As we rode through Clarksville, Florida on Highway 20 today, I heard a loud bang on my left. I thought maybe the car that just passed me had run over something, but then I heard another bang. And another one. Turns out it was just a guy standing on the porch of his trailer home, repeatedly firing a rifle into the woods, about 40 feet off the road. We stopped at the convenience store next door and got some chocolate milk. None of the other customers seemed to have noticed.
In a fast 86-mile day with only a couple brief stops, that was the highlight. Actually, the highlight for me was that he didn’t shoot at us.

We took off from Niceville late this morning, my Uncle Tim leading us out of town on Highway 20. Highway 20 is off the Adventure Cycling route, but it was great for us today, with wide shoulders for all but about 10 miles, and for the most part, tolerant drivers. Other than the guy who yelled “Get off the road!” from a passing car. It’s kind of hard to understand what someone is yelling when they’re passing you at 60 mph and you’re going 10 mph, but Tony just gave him a big thumbs-up.

We’re staying in Blountstown, Florida, for the night, and we only have about 350 miles left until St. Augustine. We’re planning on being there by Friday, so today might have been our last day over 80 miles.

I feel like we're not getting closer to the coast as much as we are deeper into the South. This was about the least aggressive pro-Confederate flag bumper sticker I saw at a convenience store today. I bought it, and am not sure what I'm going to do with it. Probably send it to my alpha-dirtbag pal Brian, who's a native Tallahasseean.

That is only a half tree.


6 responses to “Day 44: Niceville, Florida, to Blountstown, Florida

  1. I can’t even the front of Tony in this picture; wait… you’re talking about an actual tree. By the way, Northern Iowa beat the Jayhawks.

  2. I have really enjoyed all the pics of Tony’s lycra covered tush, but what I think you promised us was bikinis. C’mon man, focus. Time is growing short.

  3. As is my johnson.

  4. I believe your bumper sticker is referring to a phenomenon called “Post Glacial Rebound” in which following the holocene glacial retreat 20k years ago, land that had been depressed under the weight of thick ice sheets actually rises slightly.

    Your photos make me home sick.

  5. Aaron & Krista

    I bet you’re ready to get home and chill for a while. Will you have a void in your life when all is said and done, or are you ready to come home?

    Your sticker “The South will rise again”, reeeeal niiiiiice. I was at a bar when we lived in South Carolina and a fellow female coworker got a little too drunk and yelled that same phrase a few times. Being from Minnesota, I ducked like someone’s gonna start shootin any moment. But, it’s the south, so no big deal.

    Yep, there are people from the south so lazy their still pissed that they don’t have slaves to do their work. I think you should put that sticker smack-dab in the middle of your rear window………think of it as a “talking point” when you meet people 😛

  6. You boys need to get yourselves some boiled peanuts before you leave the South. Christ do I miss me some Bawled P~Nuts! Now proper BPs should be sold on the side of the road by some old timer who calls himself “Cajon John”[sic] or something like that. He will be boiling them in an old beer keg with the top cut off it. Get yourself a sample before you purchase– he won’t mind. Now if you don’t see a stand you might have some luck in the shady convenience stores. I am talking about the type of convenience store where the clerk is probably packing heat. They often have a couple of crock-pots filled with them on the the counter– typically between the giant jar of pickles and the giant jar of pickled eggs. You boys are in for a treat! Nothing would make me happier than to see a photo of you enjoying some boiled peanuts! I’ll send more tips your way as they come to me.

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