The Key Largo Inn had a complimentary breakfast starting at 8:00, so that’s what we ate to nourish ourselves for the start of our trip. Today was the day we’d make the cross from the Keys to mainland Florida!
After riding only a few miles, we reached mile marker 100. We’d ridden 100 miles from Key West to that point. A way better tourist picture than getting one at the zero mile marker!
We kept riding and eventually our old friend Highway 1 turned away to the north. We said hello to Highway 905 instead.
The difference was immediately noticeable. More nature, less traffic. Some road cyclists passed us, so we knew it was a semi-bike friendly route.
There wasn’t much to see, but the trees lining the road made everything much quieter than along the very urban, asphalt-covered Highway 1. We passed the Crocodile Lake Wildlife Refuge, which reminded us of the unique critters that live in that part of Florida.
We continued northeast, and our turnoff to the north finally appeared: Card Sound Road. I wasn’t exactly sure what we’d find there as far as riding conditions, but I was hopeful there was a reasonably-sized shoulder to ride on. Certainly I expected traffic to be less than Highway 1.
I was right about the latter, but wrong about the first part. It’s a two-lane road with no shoulder. We chose to hug the white line, but at one point I turned and saw a truck pass my riding partner way too close. The next time we stopped, she took the lead and I followed. Whenever I saw there wasn’t enough passing distance, I pulled into the center of the lane and directed traffic behind me. This went better than you might imagine. Cars didn’t really honk or get aggressive when I did this.
Card Sound Road. That’s all loose gravel to the right. 
Riding like this wasn’t exactly relaxing. Fortunately, there were some places we could pull off the road and enjoy some Florida views. I saw some corals and a sea anemone.
To get across Little Card Sound, there’s a bridge. It’s small, but I think it was the steepest we’d ridden that far. Riding down that bridge was damn fun. Strava clocked me as going 31.3 miles per hour. Wheeee!!!
No shoulder here either, folks, but cars were pretty respectful from what I could tell.
Once we passed by the toll booth (bikes didn’t have to pay), Alabama Jacks awaited us for lunch. It was a little after 11:00, so we’d been riding a couple of hours. And we could definitely use a break from riding with traffic, and from the light drizzle that had kept us company that day.
We kept on riding. On Google maps, it looked like there were some roads we could take to get off of Card Sound Road, but they were all dirt and some had fences guarding them. On a different trip it might be fun to ride those dirt roads, but we weren’t equipped for that since we were loaded down. (Or maybe we were equipped?)
So we ended up taking Card Sound Road all the way until it merged with Dixie Highway. We stopped at a gas station to get a plan to get the rest of the way to the campground we’d be staying at. Neither of us wanted to deal with traffic the way we had to on Card Sound Road. Really, we just should have taken the lane the whole way, and it probably would have been slightly more restful. But it still felt … nerve-wracking worrying about what was coming up behind you for hours and hours.
It turns out we probably should have stayed on the path we were. There’s a trail that runs along Dixie Highway. But we chose a path that ran by the Homestead Speedway instead. It ran us through residential areas, so there was less traffic. Often we chose to take the sidewalk instead of the road, on roads were there was no shoulder or bike lane. Again, it’s nerve-wracking always worrying about cars coming up behind out for hours at a time.
At one point, there was a break in the sidewalk. I rode around it, but when I went to get back on I didn’t hit it at enough of an angle. My wheel caught on the concrete and I went down. My travel partner was right behind me, and she rear-ended me and partially went down too.
I did a quick assessment. My travel partner tried to come help me, but I told her to go get her own stuff. I was ultimately fine. Nothing broken. I was bleeding, but nothing that bad. Nothing that required stitches. I could have patched myself up, but since it was raining I didn’t think the bandages would hold anyway. Obviously I had to get photo evidence of my stupidity.
My riding partner was fine too. She hit her thigh somehow when she hit me, but she didn’t hit pavement.
Too the bikes seemed fine. My right brake lever was pushed out of place a bit, but I forced it back. My front rim seemed Ok (it’s probably out of true). But wheels were spinning. Brakes were functional. Nothing to do but keep riding!
And it was quite ironic. While riding the trail in the Keys, quite often it would end abruptly in gravel. I took some joy in riding these areas with my rugged touring bike. With its lugged steel frame and 2″ tires, it handles this fine. So when you mess up solely by taking the wrong angle from grass to concrete after so many other transitions that looked way worse, it was funny. After a fashion. (Considering I’m writing this on 01/11/2020, and my wounds are itchy and still painful, it’s slightly less funny. Still so grateful it wasn’t worse.)
Our route ultimately took us back to the trail on Highway 1. Once we reached it we realized we’d probably have been better off staying on it the whole way. We wouldn’t have had the traffic associated with the residential areas. We also would have had fewer pavement transitions that led to my accident.
Most of the trail was like this. Which was nice. When we went off trail, we were still dealing with traffic since it was residential areas. People still drive on the roads, even though it’s a “bit” slower.
Too in areas we rode the sidewalk, if we needed to cross the road we did so at a crosswalk. Apparently people in this neck of the woods give no cares about pedestrians/cyclists crossing at a crosswalk. They just go whether they have the red or not. My travel partner almost got hit by a woman in a white minivan because of this. The woman had a red, we had the Ok to cross, but this woman sped into the crosswalk nearly hitting my travel partner. Scary. All throughout the Keys, people generally respected us (with the exception of trying to cross Hwy. 1, but there were no crosswalks there).
Eventually we did have to get off the trail, and we again chose to ride sidewalk in some places. (The purist in me wants to say we should have taken the lane in these areas. But when I was actually there, in this unfamiliar environment, I chickened out.) It seems South Florida likes to randomly put things in the middle of sidewalks sometimes. We saw things like this quite a few times, with the most extreme being an entire bus stop smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking it completely.
Ultimately we made it to our campground: Larry & Penny Thompson Memorial Park. It’s a government-owned park, and they only charged $15.00 per tent, which is really inexpensive. Unfortunately the pool was closed, and it was supposed to be a heated pool. I’m pretty sure I had the saddest cyclist face ever when I learned that. I was really looking forward to soaking in that pool.
My travel partner went to bed pretty early. After learning the pool was closed, I made a dinner out of salami, apples, and other food I’d gathered along the trip. Dark comes early this time of year, so I headed to my tent not long after that.