Tag: Bike Camping

I had a recurring though the first two days of the ride. Over and over again my mind would ask: “where are all the f’ing orange trees?!” Well, day three brought me my answer. LitT’s unfortunate episode the night before had landed us in an orange orchard.

While chewing down a couple of fresh oranges LiiT started waxing philosophical about how one who had the misfortune of being born in these parts might make an attempt at moving to the City to make it big, but would most likely end up back here, working his father’s land (perhaps not all that bad a life). As he was finishing this though a car pulled up, we quickly tossed the peels in the bush and began to explain that a freak bought of nausea the night before had forced us down where we were and that we were just breaking camp to move along. The guy who got out of the car quickly dismissed any concern and told us all he was doing was coming through to spray the weeds … on his father’s farm.

And with that bit, it was time, once again to hit the trail. The dew saturated pair of shorts hanging from my bivy’s guy line had made a strong case for me to break out a fresh pair of shorts. Fresh, dry shorts and a clean underside to put in them just iced the cake of the morning. Continue reading Riding the Huracan300 [Part 3]

I camped just off the trail so I was aware of anyone who came through during the night. Early on a pair of riders came through, they stopped and chatted for a few then rode on. They gave me some word on the guys I had been waiting for which helped explain the delay in their arrival. Throughout the night two more solo riders came through, and just before dawn a pair of trail runners came by on a side trail that I hadn’t seen.

I broke camp just before dawn. Had a cup of coffee and started back down the trail. After a couple miles I ran into the pair from the previous evening. They had made camp at a ‘scenic overlook’, a mountain among molehills. After a quick daylight introduction I was off again. Continue reading Riding the Huracan300 [Part 2]

After weeks of [not]preparing and a remarkably underwhelming stay at the Shangri-la hotel in Ocala, the ToeCutter crew woke up and rolled out to the 6am start of the race at the Santos trailhead. Temps were going to be comfortable at the start. The same could probably not be said for the digestive tracks of the guys who decided to get the Deluxe Seafood Delight at the oyster bar the night before.

True to form, we were late for the start and rolled out about 5 minutes after everyone else. As luck would have it, the rest of the crew from ATL had also been late risers and we rolled out nearly a dozen deep into the fresh morning singletrack.

I was towards the front of the group and got into a good rhythm. Despite a couple small issues with stowage, I hung out at a good pace and the miles started melting away. Soon the sun came up and we were really knocking back the course. After a brief 18 mile stretch on a paved greenway trail we were back into the woods through the Citrus WMA. The forest was scarred in places and there were a number of small active fires going, but nothing that would hinder the ride, just something to add to the scenery (and heat).

Continue reading Riding the Huracan300 [Part 1]