It's hot and it's humid and it's only 9:00 in the morning. What route should we take to West Palm Beach? Florida has several routes south, I-95, US-1, and A1A, all within a stone's throw of each other. Since we're already here on the coast we'll stick with A1A for a while.

I can't believe it can be so humid this early in the morning. Maybe being on the road will help. A1A is a nice road but slow. The speed limit averages about 45 mph, and from time to time jumps to 55. It takes us right next to the ocean much of the time, and right next to a variety of homes that have been built here. It's strange, on one lot you may have a modest, sometimes even rundown home maybe 1200 sq/ft in size, then right next to it you will have a new home three times that size. It was obvious that some of the old homes had been bought just so the new owner could build new and bigger digs.

A1A runs right along the coast and we continued to cross small bridges (photos 1 & 2) where people were fishing. What they were fishing for, I never found out, but it does seem a popular pastime. We also passed a good number of businesses that catered to boaters (photos 3 & 4). With all of this water access and sunny skies, it only makes sense that boating would be a large part of Florida's recreation.

It's hard to do the speed limit when you need to get somewhere and so I let the Goldwing creep up to maybe 10 mph faster than I should. Wouldn't you know it, I come around a corner and there's a cop sitting, checking us out. As we pass, out he comes maybe three cars behind us. Of course we slow down and as soon as I get a chance, I pull over and let him pass. Yep, maybe five miles later I pass him again, but this time, I'm going way slow and he stays put. Before this day is over we will pass seven other police officers, of one type or another. That's more than we've seen on the entire trip. What's going on in Florida that they need so many cops on the road?

We somehow get routed back up on I-95 to get past Jacksonville, which has the heaviest traffic since Toronto. We continue on south to St. Augustine, where we head back to the coast and historic St. Augustine, trying to get cool. It doesn't work.

St. Augustine is the oldest city in the United States. The Spanish founded a fort, Castillo de San Marcos, in 1672 and took the next 15 years to complete it (photo 5). It has been through several owners since that time and was quite interesting to visit. The architecture is unique and allowed the Spanish to hold out in a siege for almost two months (photo 6) in 1732. Also, the local rock building material has held up very well so the fort is in remarkably good condition for being as old as it is (photos 7,8,9,10,11,12).

The rooms here have held Geronimo's wife and family, as well as other Indians that the Government wanted to break (photo 13). They believed that if they could take the Indian and move the leaders to a place that was completely foreign to them, it would help break their spirit and resistance. It did not work with Geronimo, at least.

There are still a large number of the original cannon, or cannon of the period, available to give the fort an authentic look and feel. There is what remains of a cannon that blew-up during the siege of 1732 and more than I've ever seen at a fort before (photos 14,15,16,17). The view from the top of the fort allowed us to view a small part of the waterfront area of St. Augustine, which may be the oldest city in America, but its alive and kickin' (photo 18). You can also see the Lion's Head Bridge (photo 19), which we will cross if we continue on A1A.

We were sweltering in the noonday heat and welcomed getting back on the bike so we could at least be in moving air. We decided to turn south on US 1 for another ten miles or so and then sneaked back up on I-95 so we could try to make up for lost time. We stayed on I-95 south for the next couple of hours as the heat got worse and the clouds got darker. We finally got off the freeway for a late lunch/early dinner at Titusville and found that there was a tornado warning in effect; good timing.

We decided to eat at a Cracker Barrel restaurant; something we had seen advertised but had never tried. It bills itself as "country style cooking" and we felt they did a pretty good job living up to that claim, within reason. Our waiter was also an interesting fellow named Michael, who had, regrettably, just lost his father a couple of weeks earlier. Michael had recently been to San Francisco so was familiar with where we were from. He also had once ridden his father's Goldwing and had an accident with it that broke his leg. This has not made him afraid of motorcycles and he attributed the accident to inexperience. Nice young man.

After checking into a Days Inn motel, the clouds continued to darken and lightening finally began to light up the western sky with its complimentary gift of rain for good measure (photo 20). My bike is outside since the motel clerk would not let me put it under the overhang. I've had Best Western, America Inn, Sleep Inn, and Comfort Inn; all let me park the bike under their overhang to keep it out of the rain. Needless to say, Days Inn just made my list of places not to stop if I have a choice.

We are close to Cape Kennedy but it will have to wait for another trip. It will take way too long and we're running out of time and besides, I'm getting anxious to visit family. We watch the rain from our motel window and plan for tomorrow.