2007- Everglades & Keys

Riding the Tamiami to Key-West; Florida

By Mark Hawkins

Back in February 2006 while on holiday in South West Florida I stopped by the Harley-Davidson dealer in Naples, on the Gulf Coast. This was the second time I had perused these shiny chrome machines while in the US, however, this time, I noticed the ‘Rental’ sign, and started to consider how nice it would be to ride around these palm lined roads for a day or two, maybe set myself off on some adventure. For one reason or another this did not happen, partly because we were in the area for a week to rest up after a fortnight up in Orlando. Another more sobering reason was the realisation that I hadn’t ridden for 22 years! This fact in itself started me thinking how good it would be to own a motorcycle again, and the possibility of owning my own Harley-Davidson. To cut a long story short, on my return I paid a visit to Chapel Ash and a few months later took delivery of my own Sportster 883 Custom.

So, when the decision was made to return to Florida in 2007, the idea of a few days escape really did seem possible, and after searching the H-D Naples website for rental prices sometime last August, I phoned them direct and reserved without charge a Heritage Softail Classic for 3 days to pick up on Tuesday 29^th May 2007. I have never ridden a Big ‘V’ twin before, so a ‘bagged’ Softail seemed the obvious choice – not too big a step up from the Sporty, with plenty of room to keep luggage and water, and the essential windshield to keep those Florida ‘love-bugs’ at bay.

The route I had settled for, assuming I felt comfortable with the bike, heat and humidity would be the old ‘Tamiami Trail’ (Tampa to Miami) US 41 across to Miami and then if possible, the US 1 down through the Florida Keys to end at Key West. The ‘41’ is one of the earliest highways in Florida and cuts through the Everglades, apparently more scenic than the usually busy Interstate 75 (Alligator Alley).

This route takes in Everglade parks, and Indian Reservations. I also had the idea while en-route, to take in some of Miami. While using the HOG Member Ride Planner on-line, I discovered a one way trip from Naples to Key West is approximately 240 Miles, with a minimum duration at designated speed limits of 4 hours. I could easily add on 2 hours for stops and detours, so obviously a trip to Key West would mean a stop overnight, before returning the following day via the reverse route order.

My escape plan was now coming together, taking the shape of a 3 day rental (hire), starting with a ride around our holiday base; Marco Island on day 1, and if comfortable, good to go for the two day trip down the Keys. As usual with most vehicle-hire schemes, the bike would be collected at 9:00 a.m. on the 29^th day 1 and returned at the same time on the 1^st June (day 4) giving three full days, without having to race back on the third day to return the bike in the evening before they close.

Preparation

Medical Insurance

Although vehicle insurance would be included with the bike hire I would not have medical cover. Following a lengthy conversation with the Virgin Holiday insurance call-centre representative in India (Sunita or Sanita), I still couldn’t decide if I would have the necessary insurance included as part of my holiday package. The usual small print suggested up to 50cc only, but contradicted itself with the gold family holiday insurance package hinting at dangerous sports cover. Although I had no intention of falling off, I decided to play it safe and get some insurance booked for the 3 day period, to include full repatriation with medical up to $3 million of treatment.

Riding Gear

I discovered that Florida is a helmet free state assuming suitable medical insurance. Personally, I struggle with the idea of not wearing a helmet, jacket and boots, and since the helmet is included in the hire if required, I would not need to take my own. The real dilemma was; do I pack my textile jacket? This would really bump up the baggage allowance and along with the Florida climate in May, would I really bother to wear it anyway? In the end, with the pound being so strong against the dollar (2:1) I decided to leave it behind and maybe buy a new leather or denim jacket while out there.

So, cramming my summer gloves and boots in the suitcase, off I flew along with my family to the ‘Sunshine State’.

Day 1: Marco Island, Fort Myers, Bonita Springs, Sanibel Island

After a short drive from Marco to Naples I arrive at the dealer around 8:50 a.m. Ready and waiting with a full tank of fuel was a shiny Black Heritage Softail ’07 model with 9694 miles on the clock. Oh great I thought, I get to try the 6 speed. With brief instruction about the ’07 proximity key fob sensor, I was ready to go. A few laps around the car-park and I couldn’t believe how easy the ‘Heritage’ was to handle, a lot easier than I had imagined. I explained to the rep’ where I was heading, and was immediately advised to avoid Miami due to a recent increase in the illegal Mexican immigrant population who seem to drive trucks and four by four station wagons without a driving licence and no insurance. Apparently, due to a number of incidents where bikers have been ‘side-swiped’ off their bikes. The advice was; as soon as you come to the end of US 41 and see the big Casino on the left, turn around and come back.

By this time the sun was well and truly up in an almost clear blue sky. While following Gordon my father-in-law in the hire car back to the hotel riding through Naples centre, I noticed one of those large digital temperature gauges on the side of a building – by now at 09:20am it was already 82^0F!! Each time I stopped at an intersection, I could feel the sun burning my arms, and the heat of the engine burning my legs. I had decided to ride in jeans, with a denim shirt over a t-shirt. This seemed the best compromise, but I could have happily stripped down to shorts and a ‘T’. However risk of heat exposure ensured I did remain sensible.

While approaching the bridge over to Marco, I looked down at the bike and realised I had ‘highway’ pegs. Unfolding these with my feet and leaning back, I rolled the throttle on, overtaking Gordon. The view as I climbed to the peak of the bridge was spectacular, and looking out left toward some of the Gulf Coast’s 10,000 islands, and to the right the other side of the island near the Snook Inn. A short ride past the Marina – a home for many expensive cruise boats, and past the guy on the left waving to me on a white Road King Classic, I was soon back at the hotel for a hasty breakfast.

My twelve year old daughter Hayley decided there was no way I would disappear for the day without taking her for a ride around the island first. This was good fun, and repeated with my wife Helen, who insisted on a ride through Winterberry Drive, holiday home of John Travolta. When she shouted from behind ‘which one was his house do you think’, I couldn’t resist ‘the one with the mirror-ball and disco lights in the front room of course’!

Anyway, on to my adventure, I decided to use the remainder of the first day to explore north, before heading south tomorrow. A ride off on Interstate (I75), took me back up to Naples towards Fort Myers, this was good since I could get a feel for the bike at speed on a fast road. Florida, although hot and humid, can expose some cross winds due to the flat expanse between trees and buildings, this didn’t seem too bad, and I felt comfortable with the Softail as I reached 70mph plus. I then left the Interstate a few miles past a huge greyhound racing stadium that looked the size of Villa Park, and took the turning for Bonita Springs and Bonita Beach. The idea was to ride up the Gulf Coast, picking my way through the small islands linked by bridges finishing at the larger Sanibel Island. Bonita Beach is accessible via Hickory Boulevard, a super place to cruise up and down on a Harley. All of the buildings were only one or two stories high so not obscuring the superb view across the bay. Each house was made of wood, in an old colonial style, painted various shades of green or blue with white painted eves, and white picket fences.

At this point having ridden about 60 miles, a raging thirst decided I make a stop. While approaching a section of dense bush and tree-lined carriageway between the islands, I noticed a small sign for ‘Lovers Key’. Almost missing the left turn I came to a sudden stop at barriers. I paid a 5 dollar charge to enter the Carl E. Johnson State Park where red and black mangrove swamps, maritime hammock, and strangler fig can be seen across swampy islands from a small wooden footbridge linking the small island. The wildlife here was superb, I spotted a few egret, eagles and osprey, and walked across the bridge to reveal the wonderfully secluded beach – hence the name ‘Lovers Key’ I suppose!

After some brief refreshment I then headed off up toward Fort Myers, where high rise hotels, diners, and bars seemed to dominate the view, although all in a very tasteful way.

Along the 865 North across the thoughtfully named ‘Hurricane Bay’ (not today I hope) I took a left through road-works toward the 2 mile bridge that linked the bay across to Sanibel Island. This to my surprise demanded a toll payment; fortunately I had a ‘couple of bucks’ in my top pocket. Once on Sanibel, I found a convenient car-park and toilet block a five minute walk away near light-house point in order to change into beach attire before heading on to the beach by foot. By this time the heat was really getting to me, and I couldn’t resist diving head first into the cool sea. Looking around I noticed most families enjoying a good time in the sun, except one family, who rather reminded of the US term ‘trailer-white-trash’. This family consisted of grandma, grandpa and their grandkids, where grandpa was named Bob and grandma was getting into a rage with Bob – swearing and cussing in front of the kids over a missing cigarette lighter, it went something like this ‘where’s the dope ass lighter Bob, you no good piece of ****’ followed by ‘awe grandma, don’t shout at granddaddy like that, he don’t smoke’. Anyway, grandma finally did get her light, and I spent a very peaceful hour drying off in the late afternoon sun looking out across the bay to Fort Myers.

The ride back to Marco was most enjoyable, with the sun low in the sky, a cruise straight back down the Interstate all the way through to Naples, where I lost my bearings for a while, and ended up heading in the wrong direction out of the city. I soon discovered my error, and arrived back at the hotel just before sunset.

Day 2: Marco Island to Key West.

The Tamiami Trail down to Homestead

Today the weather was slightly cooler, a little more overcast, so the plan was to head off down through the Everglades, at least to the suggested Casino. If all went well I could continue on and go for the Keys, or simply turn around and come back. On the way down to the car-park I met Gary the Hotel bellman; “Goin Cruising Dude”,he said with a smile, “Sure am Buddy” I replied. We chat for a while about his 1940’s Pan-Head he used to own while living in Chicago and discussed my intended route. While packing the saddlebags with bottles of water and essential clothes, I remembered the rain-gear included in the rental package was missing as discovered last night, looking up at the sun burning off the morning cloud I thought; I won’t need the rain gear anyway, just plenty of sun block. After breakfast and another short ride around with my daughter to fill up with fuel, I left the hotel at around 10am.

Along the boulevard from the Hilton, I took a right onto San Marco Road, Highway 92, this time I would take the bridge at the other end of the Island, crossing over a large expanse of coast where I could see vegetation everywhere and confirmation I was heading out into the wilderness. The road quickly narrowed – and then straightened up and I found myself riding down the palm tree lined road with a small Creek running in parallel to the road. Looking past the palms, I could make out swampland and cypress trees. Eventually I came to the intersection with the US 41, where at the corner I noticed a red painted wooden roadhouse offering beer and alligator sized bite! The scenery seemed a little out of place, and reminded me of something from a Mad Max movie set in Australia. I turned right on to the Tamiami, and could see a ‘dead’ straight road ahead, lined with palms and cypress trees as far as the eye could see. I shifted up to 6^th, leaned back on the highway pegs, planted the bike bang in the middle of my side of the road and spent the next hour or so ‘cruising’ in the true American sense of the word.

By now the ride was getting really interesting, every now and again the cypress trees would form a tunnel like canopy over my head, and the vegetation would get so thick I couldn’t see past the Armco barriers. Then, after a few miles the scenery changed again, I could see right across to the horizon, reminding me of an African Savannah, but instead of tall grass, it was all swampland. Every few miles there were huge signs advertising airboat rides, and it was obvious each sign appeared to try and out do each other offering food while you wait, and ‘the best ever’ experience at the best price. After cruising along for over an hour I notice a strange anomaly in the road ahead. Could it be? Yes, it was nothing stranger than a bend in the road, and there wouldn’t be another for 30 miles or more. The apex of the bend was no tighter than found on a UK motorway or railway, not much fun, just a gentle lean and hold at steady 60mph – that was my lot! Soon after, I was confronted with really large ‘road-kill’ near the Armco. As I got nearer I slowed down a little, and realised the animals were actually three dead alligators – how bizarre. I wouldn’t fancy hitting one of those in the dark on a bike I thought.

The traffic was light, mainly touristy, and every now and again I would see packs of six or more Harley riders, some with pillions heading in the opposite direction, probably coming over to the Gulf coast from Miami. As I passed them, I did the biker greeting thing, in the US it seems to be an outstretched arm with a wave. By now I had passed by a few Indian Reservations, and wanted to stop and take a look around, but it was coming up to lunchtime so I decided to travel a little further before stopping for a bite. The heat of the day didn’t seem a problem yet; I was comfortable, moving at 60 plus, and the highway pegs allowed cooler air to flow across my lower legs away from the engine.

I was tempted to speed up a little, but I remembered Gary’s warning about the cops hiding out in side roads a little like the old Smokey and the Bandit films.

After passing some tempting roadhouse style diners, again made of wood with the typical screen door porch frontage, I recognised the traffic build up a little, and evidence of more buildings signalling I was near the end of the trail. Sure enough, after just over 100 miles travelled so far, I saw the huge Casino on the left hand side, like all things in the US rather larger than I had imagined, with one of those big Vegas style signs advertising a ‘Bingo and Rodeo Night’. At this point of the journey, I decided to continue my journey on to Key Largo.

Homestead to Key Largo

Just past the casino, I came upon a large intersection and took a right turn along the 997 south. The landscape started to open out into large farmland expanses, and I could see a variety of farming machinery and large trucks carrying palm tree shipments. I soon realised such a variety of palms were being cultivated for holiday resorts and hotel complexes. Somewhere along this road heading into Homestead the wind picked up coming off the large expanse of land created an annoying buffeting effect across the screen and helmet. The dust from the farmland and the stifling heat was now taking its toll.

Eventually, I entered Homestead, a city laid out in a typical grid format, originating from the ‘Homesteaders Trail’ during the late 19^th century. During this time the city housed labour for building the Florida - Miami Railroad. I found this place interesting because the buildings had an almost ‘Texan’ feel along with a more modern style introduced during rebuilding work after Hurricane Andrew of 1992. At some point I must have travelled into Florida City, another part of the Miami-Dade county, but didn’t really notice the boundary, and soon found myself heading toward the Keys. By now, as I headed toward the coast I could feel the wind getting more and more blustery, rattling the visor on the helmet. Now on US 1, the traffic stopped due to road works at the ‘Overseas Highway Bridge’. This was my first stop and quickly got off the bike and opened a saddlebag for water. Looking down at the speedo’ I noticed I had covered over 130 miles without a single stop.

Heading into Key Largo, the weather had changed and on the horizon large clouds were forming. There was a definite increase in humidity, and the denim shirt I was wearing felt damp. The air became slightly cooler with the odd flash of lightening. By now I wished I had that missing rain gear with me. Key Largo is a strange place, full of Scuba dive shops, cheap motels small bars and budget shops. Everything is laid out down the centre of the highways central reservation between lanes, with regular intersections and traffic lights; a very stop-start affair. I started to look around for a place to stay for the night, but to be honest the US 1 through Largo seemed a bit seedy, and down market. Soon, the heavens opened and it started pouring filling the screen forcing me to peer over the top, quite refreshing but I kept wondering if I was going to dry out, or was it going to be wet for the rest of the journey? It was getting too late to turn around, and my only real option now was to continue on through the Keys and see if the weather changed. I knew the length of Keys was approximately 100 miles. It was now 2 pm so I decided to keep moving.

Islamorada Key, Marathon Key and Key West

To my relief about 3 or 4 miles south of Largo, the rain stopped, although still quite overcast, the horizon looked much better with blue skies ahead. Looking in the mirrors, it seemed I had passed through the worst of the storm, and by now I was already drying off, though I never did feel the cold as was usual with rainy summer day in Britain. Eventually the Overseas Highway narrowed, and became more like a real bridge. Gone were the cheap motels, and bars, and looking left and right I could see nothing but seascape. There were small islands dotted around, and parts of larger islands linking the highway. There were upmarket properties now with gated vacation communities accessible by slip roads heading to other parts of the key.

Somewhere between Plantation Key and Islamorada Key I spotted a sign indicating a rest area to the right. After a brief stop for a drink and photo opportunity, I started my crossing over the 7 mile bridge, and could see the road reach out to the horizon, with nothing but sea either side. About two miles across, I looked right and saw a large speedboat racing by the side of me, the occupants waving. The sea was literally turquoise blue now, and I had little traffic behind or ahead of me. It seemed I had the whole bridge to myself, with the Gulf of Mexico on one side, and the Atlantic Ocean on the other. Fantastic, what a ride! Looking down on the Atlantic side the old seven mile railroad bridge was close by, and apart from the hurricane wrecked sections, the repeated brick archway construction running almost the entire distance was now being used as one long fishing pier.

I considered stopping at the very nice Bahia Honda Key, but opted to keep going instead, arriving at my destination an hour or two later. My first impression of Key West was disappointing. I took a left as I headed onto the island, and was presented with a very busy main road and row upon row of hotels. By now I was tired, and in need of a room. I stopped by the Holiday Inn where the cheapest room was $180.00 per night plus tax!! In the end I settled for the Radisson, at $122 including 7.5% state tax. This didn’t include meals, but I could see there was a ‘Dennys’ next to the hotel, and since it was now after 5pm this might be the best offer.

After a shower and meal, I took the bike for an evening cruise around the island, heading up to find Duval St. I arrived at the Western tip of the Key, parking the bike in the square and walked across to the ‘Sunset Pier’, bought a bottle of Corona Lite and watched the remainder of the sunset while listening to the local calypso band. Later, I visited a few more bars, including the world famous ‘Sloppy Joes’.

My first impressions of Key West were proven unfounded, and after a few beers wandering around on foot admiring the neat wooden shops and houses, as well as stumbling across Earnest Hemmingway’s old house, I decided to ride back to the hotel for a good nights rest. Tomorrow I would explore some more.

Day 3: Key West back to Marco Island via Everglade parks.

I was up, showered and in Denny’s for breakfast by 7 am. While listening to conversations between other guests and waitresses, I kept hearing the word ‘HURRICANE’, followed by my own mind saying ‘RUN’ (with a Richard Pryor emphasis). It seemed that the hurricane season had started today, and the first warning had already been discussed on the local radio station. Me ambling around on a motorcycle while dodging flying cows, cars and bits of wood lost its appeal. On the way out of the restaurant I passed a group of bikers coming in, who also had the same idea, with tightly wrapped bandanas one said: ‘that helmet might useful today dude’, I had to agree, but hoped he was wrong. My change of plan was a quick tour around the Key, stop off at the Southern most point marker for a photo if I could find it, and head north as quick as I could and find a hurricane shelter, reinforced concrete church or something I could quickly manufacture an Anderson shelter from!

Heading back up the Overseas Highway the conditions were blustery and hard work despite the screen. I could tell the closer I got to the mainland the weather would get better, but incessant buffeting and jarring of my head and neck muscles were now very painful. The scenery was great, but I was relieved to stop at Largo for a break, and while stopping again in Homestead for fuel, I got completely lost and disoriented. I ended up riding through the Mexican part of town – maybe it was the fatigue but it seemed as though ‘Banditos’ were everywhere. In my haste, I headed out into the country, and seemed to ride for miles and miles not knowing which direction. I met a woman in a station wagon at an intersection and asked her for directions to US 41 or the Tamiami trail. She had no idea what I was talking about. Finally she asked, ‘do you want the Everglades’ I said yeah, that’ll do, but after taking her directions I thought; the Everglades is a pretty big place you know, am I really heading home?

Thankfully, I came across the Everglades National Park Visitor centre, where I met a ranger guy who gave me a map of the Everglades, and drew directions for me back to US41. Beware, when someone in the US says ‘up the road to the next intersection then turn left’, this can mean 15 miles! Finally, I did find the Tamiami again though my main concern was ensuring a ride back during daylight. Seeing signs warning of [Florida] Panthers Crossing, and knowing Alligators were out there, the thought of breaking down 50 miles from civilisation in the dark, alone spooked me a little. Thankfully though it was still only 3pm.

Soon I came across a Miccosukee Indian Reservation, and parked up to take a look around.

This was fascinating, log cabins, and Indian artwork everywhere. No Wigwams or Tepees or anything but a safe haven for modern day Native Americans, a descendant of the Florida Seminole Indians. Riding on I stopped at the Oasis Visitor centre for a brief look at live Alligators by the roadside.

Finally, as the sun descended to my left, I enjoyed a gentle cruise back to Marco Island under Big Cypress canopies, to the Hotel in time for tea.

Total Miles Covered over the 3 days: 748.

Rental Costs

3 Days Rental with HOG Member Discount (Saved $78): $ 446.25

3 Days Collision Damage Waver $ 75.00

6% State Sales Tax $ 31.28

$10.00 Discount Voucher - $ 10.00

Total $ 542.48

3 Day Travel Insurance £ 32.00

Hotel – One Night Stay $122.00

St Petersburg Times: http://www.sptimes.com/2003/webspecials03/trail/chapter4.shtml

Motorcycle Roads US: http://www.motorcycleroads.us/roads/fl_us41.html