Roll Me Away (Part I)

Took a look down a westbound road and right away I made my choice. Headed out to my big two-wheeler, I was tired of my own voice…

Bob Seger, “Roll Me Away”

2020 has been quite an interesting time to put it in the nicest way possible. Everyone in the world is experiencing the same thing, so I won’t take a lot of time describing my personal situation. I’m screwed like most people that own a small business. I’m looking at an entire year without income with no end in sight. That’s the bad news. The good news is that during one of my first mid-life crises I bought a motorcycle, and now whenever things go south I can get on it and ride away.

Initially I had a vision of secretly riding south to Tampa to visit friends for the 4th of July. With a known flair for the unexpected surprise, I would manipulate an agenda for the 4th using an asset on the inside named Katrina, or “Waves” as I refer to her when she’s not around (80s music serves as the soundtrack for my life). Katrina would make sure that a bevy of friends were at their pool when I rolled into the backyard and directly onto the pool deck with the Samson Street-Sweeper pipes roaring over whichever Motley Crue song the group was inevitably playing at that moment.

I contrive these situations in my head and sometimes the elements fall into place. The 4th of July plan became a scheduling problem and never happened, but Napper’s birthday followed soon after and Katrina reached out about the possibility of me joining a group of them in St. Pete Beach for the first weekend of August. With that news I was able to resurrect my route plan even though the shock value of my sudden appearance idea would have to die with Independence Day. I was coming, of course, but there would be no hiding it. But why not take the time to do something different after all these months of non-action? I’d load up and ride the distance.

I spent a lot of time alone on this trip, needless to say, so there’s not really much of a story here. I did do my best to avoid chains when considering my meals and my overnights and I’ll list those here. The birthday party itself was the normal shit-show that unravels when the characters from that part of my life get together for just about anything. I’ll touch on that as well.

I’ve ridden my motorcycle from Auburn as far as Daytona twice over the years, and this would be my longest trip since those hauls for Bike Week. The first leg of my trip was a familiar one, however. Riding to the Florida Panhandle beaches along the 30-A corridor is something I’ve done countless times. It’s an easy ride with enough county roads through Alabama and Florida to keep you off the interstates. The end of Day 1 would find me as far as Santa Rosa Beach, FL.

It always amuses me how little my friends in Tampa know about 30-A and the Panhandle beaches. They’ve dismissed the entire area as the “Redneck Riviera” thanks to MTV’s Spring Break coverage and the crowning of Panama City as the region’s base of party operations. The truth, in my opinion, is that the best beaches in Florida are by far along this corridor: Santa Rosa, Grayton, Watercolor, Seaside, Seagrove, Alys, Seacrest, Rosemary, Miramar…

There are pockets of Florida that have dismissed this entire area for some reason. Maybe we’re all better off because they aren’t exactly unpopular to the rest of the world.

I stayed with a friend in Santa Rosa, which was certainly convenient seeing as the sky decided to open up when I was only six miles away from his house. I ducked off the road and onto the grounds of a pine straw business just on the far side of the crossing bridge. To avoid the rain I pulled under the awning of a small office outbuilding and turned the bike off praying that no one was inside. It remained quiet and worked perfectly.

Once I made it to the newly purchased home of Tyler Parker, an old friend from Auburn, I may have been in more need of a shower than any other time in my life, aside from the days on days I went without while backpacking through Europe years ago. August in the South isn’t the ideal time for a motorcycle trip. It’s 100 degrees and you’re wearing jeans, the sun beating down on you for hours.

It was nice being in Santa Rosa even if only for a few hours. Quarantine life has me forgetting what normal looks like, and it hit me hard that 30-A is so close and I hardly take advantage of the proximity. Tyler and I had a few beers, dinner, and before long I was in bed recharging for the next morning’s ride.

SHUNK GULLEY OYSTER BAR (Santa Rosa Beach, FL)

Say Hello To My Friends:

Matt Baxter (IG: @mjbaxter44) & Kristen Simpson (IG: @ksimp0404)

Try These Menu Items:

Meyer Lemon Garlic Oysters, Tuna Poke

Follow Shunk Gulley On Instagram: @shunkgulley30a

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The next morning I didn’t have too long of a ride planned. I needed to make it to Carrabelle, a small oyster town on State Highway 98 tucked along the coast just south of Apalachicola National Forest. If I chose to avoid the coast it would be a relatively short day on the bike, but I didn’t make the journey to find the quickest routes between destinations. If that were the case I would have spent all my time on I-10 and I-75.

I rode 30-A through all the coastal towns along the corridor, which in the summer is a lot of stopping and less going. But the scenery is favorable and I even recognized a few Auburn students/locals while putting through Seaside slow enough to shout out to them.

There isn’t much to Carrabelle, but the shellfish that come from the bays along Florida’s “Forgotten Coast” in Apalachicola Bay are some of the best anywhere. The oysters harvested on the Gulf Coast are mostly the “American” or “Eastern” variety. It’s hard to miss when you’re eating fresh seafood in this area.

In the time of Covid, contactless check-ins at hotels have become commonplace. I prearranged a room at The Old Carrabelle Hotel prior to my trip, a 5-room harbor inn established in 1900. It was exactly the kind of place I was looking for on this trip – unique, local, etc. What I didn’t consider was the possibility that I would have the entire place to myself and would never see another soul including check in and check out.

I was given a code for the front door and told that my room key would be in my door, the Flamingo Room. I unloaded my stuff and took a look around. It’s basically an old house converted to an inn and showcases a Key West-style. It was clean, comfortable, and exactly what I needed. As day turned to night and no one else showed up, however, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going to be murdered by Norman Bates or any number of other possible “psychos”. I locked myself in my room and waited for an end that never came. Once the sun began to gently light the room I gathered my gear and cracked open my bedroom door. It was eerily quiet and every step I took creaked the way any 100+ year old house would. I left my key in the door and descended the staircase as quietly as I could. Before I knew it I was out the door and loading my bike, having spent an entire night without seeing another human being.

On my way out of town I stopped at Lulu’s Cafe, which was a great decision. It was also a breakfast option as part of my “Bed & Breakfast” stay at the Old Carrabelle Hotel. All I really wanted was coffee, so I didn’t worry about pulling out my breakfast voucher, but the sweet ladies at Lulu’s wouldn’t accept that was all I needed. A fresh and warm blueberry and lemon muffin was sent my way and they even tried to fit a to-go sandwich somewhere on my bike for a snack down the road. They conceded it wouldn’t fit anywhere and wished me well. If you find yourself in Carrabelle, go see the ladies at Lulu’s Cafe for breakfast and/or lunch.

LULU’S CAFE (Carrabelle, FL)

Follow Lulu’s On Facebook: FB: Lulu’s Cafe

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My Day 3 ride was basically solving a series of complicated math problems resulting in gas tank volume calculations done in my head on winding roads at 50 mph. Had I made a mistake with any of the figures I wouldn’t be writing this today. The result would have been a very lonely roadside expiration in the largest uninhabited section in Florida. I rode for what seemed like hours without seeing another car or vehicle of any kind save for a slow moving tractor that may have been in the same predicament as me.

As the Panhandle curves away south to the main peninsula of Florida, the terrain is occupied by a combination of national forest and wildlife refuge areas. There’s nothing there as far as human civilization is concerned, so I fueled up at any opportunity. I was gunning for Perry, Florida and a lunch break, which I made safely.

PARKSIDE CAFE & COFFEE (Perry, FL)

Follow Parkside Cafe & Coffee On Facebook: FB: Parkside Cafe

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Cedar Key was the ultimate destination for Day 3 and I had about a two hour ride in from Perry for the night. I’d never been to Cedar Key, and it was definitely an unexpected experience. I spoke to a few friends from Florida after my departure that had been a number of times with family and had fond memories.

Cedar Key is a few hours north of Tampa and really is a self-contained community in itself. There are plenty of rental options, a marina, fishing/boating opportunities, natural wildlife areas, and a focused bar/restaurant cluster along the pier. It prides itself on being an “Old Florida” vacation spot as well as a “walkable” island.

Being completely unfamiliar with the area, I booked a cottage near the bridge to the mainland just to have a quick getaway in the morning. I really didn’t put any more thought into it than that. I made an excellent blind choice with Pirate’s Cove Cottages.

PIRATES COVE COTTAGES (Cedar Key, FL)

Pirates Cove is owned and operated by a married couple that live on the island and they couldn’t be more accommodating. It’s walkable to the bar/restaurants at the pier, but they also rent bikes and golf carts on site if you prefer.

Pirates Cove can put at least 20 heads in beds, and although it’s not a place that would make sense for one of my corporate groups, it would be perfect for a family or group of friends to take over for a weekend. The courtyard among the cottages would then become a private place to gather. A full buyout would be ideal here. Have a band play if you want.

The cottages are fully-functional with a small kitchen, full-size refrigerator, and dining area (cottages vary in size). They are clean and comfortable, and the staff is lovely.

Pirates Cove Cottages Website: Pirates Cove

Follow Pirates Cove on IG: Pirates Cove

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The barrage of texts I started to receive in the late afternoon on Cedar Key were inevitable seeing as I was one sleep away from my final approach into the birthday party weekend. The basic question was this:

“Can you make it to St. Pete by 10:30 AM because we’re commandeering this boat for the day?”

Attached to the text was this promo video from EG Vodka:

EG VODKA & HCB YACHTS

Well, I’m not going to miss a boat charter on the first day of a party weekend, and in this case one of our friends is part owner of EG, so at 5 AM I was up and gathering my gear. The ride wasn’t going to be ideal – a lot of stop-and-go through suburbs of Tampa along a straight shot south along the coast – but I buckled down and made it happen.

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As mentioned before, there’s not much to responsibly report about the goings on in St. Pete Beach for Napper’s birthday party. It went down as you’d expect and we all had an unbelievable time getting together for a few days, especially in the middle of this quarantine nightmare.

My trip home was much more streamlined as I only took two nights to make it instead of the three heading south. After waking up with a massive headache on Sunday, I gathered my wits, loaded up, and left before most of the group even woke up. The first night I spent in Gainesville, drawn in by the prospect of seeing a long Rock Boat friend and her husband. The reunion was another welcomed departure from what’s been a very lonely time. Thanks, “Green”/Carrie (IG: @cacinnamon).

I chose to spend the second night in Tallahassee, mainly because it made the most sense geographically. I saw Miami defeat FSU there in the early 90s as the infamous series of “wide right” FSU losses became a thing. It might be the last time I was actually in Tallahassee, which is hard to believe.

In both Gainesville and Tallahassee I abandoned my idea of staying in local places and not chains. The truth was I just wanted to get home. Another unavoidable truth is that I really didn’t need to spend any more money seeing as Covid-19 has wiped out my prospective 2020 income. I caved and called up my Marriott app to book a hotel using the ridiculous amount of points I’ve accumulated over the years doing what I do.

My final day was well-planned as a four hour ride with a lunch break a little over halfway in Eufaula, AL. It’s hard to beat riding through the historical homes district of Eufaula on a motorcycle, slowly taking in the canopy of oaks and the plantation-style homes. In the town center there are a number of places to eat, but the quarantine left the pickings light. I settled on a local pizza place called Graffiti’s.

I ordered a few slices and a Heineken and decided to sit outside in the shade to enjoy the street scene and reflect on a long week.

~

I was happy rolling back into Auburn – happier than I’ve felt since the world fell apart back in March, anyway. It’s nice being able to get away and unplug long enough to reset everything. I certainly felt recharged. Unfortunately, with the prospect of my work situation not getting better any time soon the feeling didn’t last long…

And that’s my segue into Part II of this story, which involves distances I’ve never before imagined possible. Not with this back, anyway. Coming soon, I decide to fly to the West Coast and hop on a bike I’ve never ridden before. For 4,000 miles…