Well it was a long plane journey from Auckland, New Zealand to Palm City, Florida and it took us a week to recover at Pearl and Bill’s……which involved swimming in their pool, going fishing and Gaitor-spotting on an Air Boat…..which was nice!



You can read about it here if you feel so inclined http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/trip-...l#post19403614
I had booked an Ultra Classic from Treasure Coast H-D and we planned to ride down to Key West and spend a few days living on Seafood and Tequila….choice! As we say in NZ…



The itinerary changed a bit after forum member “MJ” offered to meet for a beer over in Clewiston on the west side of Lake Okeechobee….and so a trip was born.

First things that struck me in Florida were the heat!!! And the heat!!! Floridians do not (as New Zealanders do) view the outdoors as somewhere benign, to be allowed into your home and life unrestricted….they live in (hopefully) Hurricane-Proof Air-Conditioned houses, drive air-conditioned cars to the air-conditioned mall…..that is not a criticism….it’s just how it has to be done to survive.

The beaches and ocean are different though, the winds keep it bearable and unlike NZ (which has no Ozone layer) you don’t get sunburnt in 11 mins…

The people were friendly but in a stand-offish way….there seemed to be an undercurrent of wariness from many of the people we had to deal with…or at least the ones we had financial or official transactions with anyway.

By the end of our reconsolidation period I was gagging to get away on the bike and on the Wednesday I was down there as soon as they opened….Treasure Coast H-D is about 3 times the size of NZ’s biggest H-D dealership….it was great and I could have spent all day wandering about in there.

Eventually I found someone who was more interested in serving a customer than looking at their computer monitor, I found this odd as we had become used to very good customer service in Florida but hey, it was early….

The actual paperwork and pick-up of the bike took just seconds…once I gave them a credit card instead of my EFTPOS card and before I knew it I was sitting on a shiny blue Ultra Classic in the baking heat about to head off on an awfully big adventure….I took a deep breath, tuned the radio to a rock station, got the feel of the bike’s centre of gravity, which appeared to about shoulder-height, compared to my Low Rider’s subterranean CoG…and headed off up highway 1 hoping I would turn right at the correct CVS and would not make a hash of finding my way back to Palm City from Stuart.

I must have looked a freak…I was the only rider not in a T shirt and I was wearing a crash-helmet!!!! My mesh and armour jacket and similar pants were necessary, my shoulder still isn’t cured from T boning a silly tart in a Mazda in July and I was sure that I was the biggest hazard on the roads….jet-lagged, unfamiliar bike, riding on the “wrong” side of the road….what could possibly go wrong?

Well I got there in one piece and it wasn’t as bad as being driven around the place…soon got used to changing up with my heel….first impressions of the Ultra Classic?....a monster of a bike, a very agricultural gearbox, horribly quiet and restricted and the screen sucked….its edge was right in my eye line so I had to either perch up like a Meerkat and look over it or slump down to look through it….if it was my bike the screen would have been swapped out for one of the stumpy little ones before it got back home…but is was a Harley and I was riding it in the USA so I was living the dream and wouldn’t be complaining to anyone….

Pearl and Bill were impressed, I took Pearl for a spin on the back and she nearly wet herself with joy….her first ever ride on a Hawg..

Mrs Spanners eyes up the two panniers and the huge, comfy armchair of a seat and pronounced it fit for purpose….and the proceeded to fill both bags with her stuff; I made do with the massive top box.

…and that was it, hopped on, teetered down the drive and out into the world….Mrs S gave me a CD to put in and we rode out towards Lake Okeechobee with Mozart playing full blast….not what you’d call badass but certainly rebellious!!!

The road to the Lake is straight (as is every road in Florida) but it is scenic and the new smells wafted in to our helmets, adding an extra dimension to the experience of riding in the USofA on a sunny day with almost no traffic…..very nice indeed!

The speed limits are all very slow in the USA and we dawdled along until a pick-up overtook us and demonstrated what the acceptable tolerances for speed limits were, this cheered me up as the signs listing the speeding fines for various speeds had alarmed me somewhat….I didn’t wanna take any chances.

We had headed east on the 714, hit the 710 for a bit and then ended up at a gas station on 98…..it was unanimously decided that water intake was gonna be crucial on this trip and Mrs Spanners needed a pit-stop….

Inside the gas station it was nice and cool, we stocked up on water and tried to buy a map but they don’t encourage the locals to travel very far in these here parts so I decided to just use the Google maps in my phone.

I asked the woman on the checkout if we were on the 98 and she didn’t seem too sure….or the question had confused her…I then asked her how long it would take to get to Clewiston.

“I dunno hunny…I ain’t never been out that far”

Her answer shocked me….Kiwis are an inquisitive bunch, they roam far and wide just to see what is out there…it never occurred to me that people may not travel an hour away from home….still, must be nice to be that content with life and I envied her in some way that I almost understood.

As we drank water and re-packed the bike (Mrs Spanners was over dressed) a Harley started up just over the road, the deep throaty roar of a bagger with aftermarket pipes….I envied him too as even Mrs S was unhappy with the neutered parping sounds the Ultra was making….”Yup, needs a power commander and some decent pipes” I concurred.



Back on the road we hit the first squadron of Dragon Flies, they made a mess because they were the size of a Cesna 172 and far less predictable in their habits…”splat…splatter, splat”…..but at least the fairing was keeping them off me and by now I had got used to slumping back to see through the screen.

We were heading south towards Pahokee in order to swing up the west shore of the lake to go meet with Mike at around 12:30 – 1pm…..it was a lot further than I had guessed!

I also got a taste of the differences between NZ and the USA as regards navigating…in NZ there is always a sign telling you how far to the next town and the road number….in the USA you have to know what highway the town is on….which compass heading you need to take and also what other numbers the road might have.

At one point on this trip the 98 was also the 700, the 441 and the 15!! I got so confused I just navigated by the sun and held a mental overview of the area in my head….it worked especially when I wasn’t sure if the 80 was the 27 or vice-versa….but I am ahead of myself.

The Levee around Okeechobee was the best reference point, mainly because the terrain was so flat it was the only reference point…Florida is very, very flat!

We cruised along, getting happily into the groove, understanding that there isn’t a State Trooper under every tree and generally relaxing…I grinned a silly grin and sang to myself…the Mozart got turned off ages ago as it set the wrong tone and we were now content to take it all in.

We followed the 15 into Pahokee by mistake and Mrs Spanners was a bit scared by what she saw….a mainly low-socio economic and African-American population and two churches to every block…all declaring how she would be punished for her iniquity….

I was a bit confused by the road numbers at this point and stopped to check Google Maps.

“What are doing?” Yelled a muffled (by her helmet) Mrs Spanners.

“Checking the map”

“Well hurry up, God’s gonna punish me!”

“What for?”

“Being white I reckon…..”

“It’s OK, they all have better phones than me”

No problem with Black people….it’s just that we were the only white faces and the bike stuck out like ***** on a Dog…I pulled back onto the road and took a right…which I assumed was the 15….only it wasn’t, it was a cul-de-sac and seemed to be the off-season headquarters of a broken down Fairground…dismantled rides and trucks lay strewn about…and then we came to some “characterful” houses, I wanted to stop and take pics but something told me that wouldn’t go down too well with the locals…..it was a narrow street with barely room to turn around but I spotted a gap in the trees and beyond that a BP gas station sign…I took the chance and plunged through the gap to emerge on the forecourt and beside the real hwy 15….it felt like sanctuary.

This highway took us to Belle Glade, which seemed like a bustling metropolis compared to the mostly deserted countryside we had been riding through for the last hour or so.
We picked up 80/27 and just outside of South Bay actually saw a sign that told us something…it said “Clewiston 16 miles” I felt like it had been put there just for me and I headed North West, happy that we would be with Mike on time. I pulled over to read the instructions he had given me and hit a dual carriageway where everybody was going 70mph…this was fun! I was having fun anyway but this was even more funnerer because I like going that speed…..I over took trucks and cars and even another motorcycle…the Levee still obscured the views but Clewiston, Mike and lunch were all on the horizon…joy!

Mikes directions were clear and easy to follow and we arrived at the Tiki Bar wondering who Mike was, how we would recognise him and whether he was a drug-addled desperado with no teeth and a meth habit?…..his bike was easy to spot though because its an anniversary 1998 Wide Glide, like the one that I had up until 10th July, when it got written off.



We pulled up beside the FXDWG and a friendly looking guy in a denim shirt appeared….it was Mike….or at least one of his Prospects, come to give us the once-over.



We exchanged greetings, talked about ‘gaitors and bikes and wandered into the Tiki Bar for lunch, I instantly liked the Tiki Bar, it’s my kinda place and if I lived out those ways you would find me there every Saturday and many evenings…with my prospects and my habit…




Mike’ s a nice guy too, he advised me what Alligator Tail tasted like, so I ordered it and he was spot on…I liked it too!



Things got a bit dark when Mike asked where we heading…..”You armed?” he asked

“Eh?”

“I wouldn’t go out that way alone if I wasn’t armed….some mean *****s out there…you might break down and wait three hours before anyone came along….and then you might regret that they had..”

“Really?”

“Yup, when my stator went I was stuck there waiting for my son in law to come get me and two guys waited with me, they were armed.”

This was all the encouragement Mrs Spanners needed to change plans…stuff the Seminole Reservation, she wanted to head south and plot up for the night somewhere just north of the Keys…or even in the Keys.

Good plan, I wasn’t gonna argue…Mike might have been paranoid but then again he might not, we would never know but he didn’t strike me as the kinda guy that makes stuff up just to scare people and I wasn’t about to test the theory.

So after lunch and a coupla beers Mrs Spanners had ants in her pants and we had to leave, Mike had a pharmaceutical mission to perform and regrettably I got up to go, I could have happily stayed there all day yarning with Mike and drinking “Landshark”, eating ‘gaitor and staying outta the sun but all good things etc and also…..it was a lot further to go than we had been lead to believe by the “How long does it take to drive..” website I had relied on when planning this escapade.



Parting is such sweet sorrow and I genuinely missed Mike as we rode south, I wished we could have spent more time with him but maybe next time.

Heading out of Clewiston and onto the 27 I contemplated gassing up but we seemed to have plenty on board and there were no “Last gas for miles” signs so I pressed on.
Now the 27 may seem unremarkable to US citizens but to a Kiwi Biker it was a mind ****….it was straight and flat for mile after mile after mile….it seemed like about 80 miles but was more like 60, there were no buildings, just farmland that gave way to swamp….I wondered how we would survive if we broke down, there would be no shade and we only had two bottles of water…I switched the odometer to “miles to reserve” and watched that figure diminish…

“There must be gas somewhere” I thought but there wasn’t.

I continued on, optimistic that there would be a gas stop at some point but it was still an uneasy feeling, looking a complete dick was my biggest fear…”mean *****s” came a close second.

…and then behold! An Oasis! The services at Weston just sprang up out of the swamp like the good fairy had remembered me at last!

Just before it appeared Mrs S had given me the “Pit-stop as soon as convenient” tap on the shoulder….she must be psychic…or just plain lucky.

The pair of us liked Weston services, it has a Tiki Bar and a shop, you could probably get a cheap hooker there too but settled for some more comfortable sunglasses for Mrs S and a pack of smokes to aid her digestion….we failed to find the remedy for “Hat hair” though.



We had a cold beverage at the Tiki Bar, served by a wonderful woman with fake breasts and a real tan.



Onwards, ever onwards, we bore south and on Mike’s recommendation picked up Krome Avenue rather than the Turnpike. The first part was great, swamp again but with trees and then further down there were proper trees which eventually gave way to farmsteads and roadside veggie and plant stalls, selling “Malmey”…which we looked up on Google.

Somewhere around Coconut Palm Drive we found ourselves bogged down in smoke-belching traffic, lots of agricultural trucks and tractors and we were hot and bothered as it was now around 5pm, Mrs Spanners needed recaffeinating and I needed to clean the bugs off the screen and have a leisurely ***** somewhere air-conditioned, so we cut left to the Turnpike, also a slowish grind but once on it we speeded up considerably and the fresher air lifted our spirits but man! You gotta be doing at least 80mph or trucks run you over!

Exit 2 promised food and lodgings! I needed no prodding from the Mrs and within minutes it was steak pig-out at the Longhorn Steak House and several large glasses of Strawberry Lemonade….bliss.

Just up the road we found a Marriot Courtyard and booked ourselves in, at $119 plus taxes, inc free Wi-Fi and unlimited Coffee, we were totally happy.



Showers, junk TV, cool air and comfy beds had us happy and satisfied with day one of the American Dream, we weren’t dead and we weren’t broke…..

 

Great write up, and you certainly could not have hooked up with anyone better than Mike!!

 

Part 2 here https://www.hdforums.com/forum/the-f...l#post10395541

 

Glad you guys had a good trip.

We don't let MJ, a drug-addled desperado , out much these days. Especially to meet out of town folk. He is alright once you get to know him.

 

sorry we couldn't get to meet up, would have been great to have you sign the Mascot, you were probably about 50 miles from it!

 

Yeah, sorry about that, we had a few changes of plan and I only had Wi-Fi at the hotels and so missed you.

 

Thats a great write up. I felt I was right there with you enjoying every mile. The whole state is not like the area you saw with the flat straight roads. Go to Tampa or Orlando next time and we can show you some great riding with actual hills and curves. Glad you got to Hang out with MJ. He is a good guy even if he does like to eat swamp cabbage. Your lucky you got a room down in Key West for that weekend. Glad you did not have to sleep in a park under a picnic table.

 

Great write up Andy. Like Dave says, there are some beautiful parts of Florida that you did not get to see. Hope you can come back again. Even more so, I wish I could make a trip to New Zealand.

Take care,

Mike

 

I am sure my Prospects will find you some room to sleep in the meth-lab if you make it down this way ;-)

You should come the second weekend in May and do the Cold Duck Rally with us.....bring hangover cure and your own swamp cabbage....

 

Spanners,
Great story. Your perspective of our (less than ideal) riding conditions is spot-on. The Tiki Bar in Clewiston is a great little spot, as is... Weston Services? I'd never heard it called that before. To us locals, it's "Cafe 27". Glad you made it to Key West. Those are memories you won't soon forget. Thanks for sharing them with us.