Tag Archives: atlanta

Bikepacking Key West to Atlanta

After a 20-odd hour greyhound down to Key West, FL, I unfolded my Brompton, strapped on my gear (a 50L backpack & big ortlieb front pannier), and began my next cycling journey: a mildly-circuitous, ~1,500 km from Key West, FL to Atlanta, GA.

last month I was squinting to see the road through the flurries of snow as I drove my salt-covered Prius down the east coast...Now I'm dipping my toes in the warm ocean in Key West

Just last month I was squinting to see the road through the flurries of snow as I drove my salt-covered Prius down the east coast of the US. I planned to take my time, but I was eager to get out of the snow.

A prius from behind with its hatchback open. Inisde is a Brompton bicycle folded and many pieces of cardboard. The black car is dripping with frost and salt. Snow is piled up on the pavement around the car. The car is parked at a gas station.
Escaping NYC Winter
Mikey's Brompton leans against a palm tree on a sandy beach. In the background are multi-story apartment complexes.
Smathers Beach

Now I found myself basked in sunshine--dipping my toes in the warm, gorgeous salt waters of Smathers Beach.

My one-night host in Florida worked at a sea kayak joint, and they graciously gifted me time on a kayak to wander the calm, shallow waters of Key West. After a few hours of getting lost in the mangroves on my way out of town, I hit the road and took my time over the next few days cycling from Key to Key until I finally crossed the last bridge into mainland Florida.

I've spent the past couple weeks with family in South Florida, but tomorrow I'll be back on the saddle. Tomorrow I'll be cycling through Parkland and along State Road 827 (locally known as Browns Farm Road) through the Everglades up to Lake Okeechobee. Google Street View doesn't cover 20km of the road (it ends abruptly at a barrier in the Loxahatchee Road Boat Ramp parking lot), but it does appear to be intact and available to non-motorized vehicles. Here's to hoping all the bridges visible in the grainy satellite imagery are still intact!



Back to Chile

In 2 months, I took the train from Ottawa, Ontario to Halifax, Nova Scotia. I stopped in Ottawa, Montreal, and Moncton between. After I crossed the border into the US on a bus from Montreal, I arrived back in New York City's Penn Station at 04:00 AM. I assembled my bike, and I rode through Manhattan to Brooklyn--crossing the East River over the Manhattan Bridge.

I stayed in Brooklyn for a week, then caught the Greyhound to Miami--stopping for a week each in Asheville, Atlanta, and Orlando to visit friends & family.

Next week, I board a plane back to Chile. This winter holiday, I take my long-awaited journey to the south of Chile in Patagonia!


USA East Coast

I've crossed the US by bicycle. I've crossed by plane. And now--I'm taking a train from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

I’ve crossed the US by bicycle. I’ve crossed by plane. And now–I’m taking a train

I just bought an Amtrak ticket from Atlanta -> New Orleans (for Mardi Gras!) -> Los Angles. It's ironic to realize that I've never done the good-ol cross-US road trip; I've never driven across the US (or taken a bus), but I suppose I shall one day (update: I did !). For now, I look forward to seeing the South via rail.

Mikey as a child wearing a buttoned-up collared shirt and holding up 2 floppy disks. Behind him, a girl sits at an old laptop wearing a hat labeled "F" for Florida.
I may not have always been a hobo, but I've always been a hacker.

In any case, an update is due: After 4 magical months in in India, I came back to NYC just before the winter cold set in. After visiting friends & family, I traveled down the US East Coast.

I left a big duffel bag of possessions with a friend in NYC, and--due to price gouged bus fares ($700 flight from NYC to Atlanta? I don't think so) over Christmas--I tried my luck at hitching from DC to Asheville with a backpack and 2 oversized duffel bags. I could hardly walk 0.1 km without needing to rest my back hauling that much shit.

Several people stand around an enterance to a building with a sign that reads "TRUMP TOWER." One person holds a sign that reads "TRUMP. Make America Hate Again." A uniformed gangster stands nearby with a hat that reads "NYPD."
Trump Protest

Within 10 minutes of holding up my cardboard sign indicating highway 81, a couple of southern boys (welcome back to Virginia) in an unmarked van stopped, started clearing junk out of the way in the back behind a full-size US flag strewn between the back and the cab, and told they could take me as far as highway 81, but wouldn't be able to drive me South. I declined their offer. In the next 6 hours, another 4 people offered to take me part-way.

Having too many bags to be able to walk my way out of a bad spot, I left for the DC greyhound, slept the night in Union Station on Christmas Eve, and took the next Greyhound to Atlanta.

After a week exploring downtown Atlanta (read: where Martin Luther King Jr was born), I took a bus down to Florida--where I currently sit, a true NY snow bird.

After I hit LA, I'll head north to Vancouver for Spring--traveling by train & bicycle along the majestic US-Pacific coastline. I've never spent much time in Canada; I'm sure looking forward to Vancouver!