Day 51, April 25: Quincy to Wakulla Springs, FL

39 of 39 miles

Not much of interest to report about the ride itself. It was a short mileage day heading into our last rest day. Flat, straight roads with tall pine on both sides. However, the destination, Wakulla Springs State Park, is a gem. A kind and patient woman agreed to take pictures of our group with each of our cameras.

Carol, Donna, Peggy, Marni, Mary Jo, Elisabeth, Marilyn

The Lodge was built by financier Edward Ball in the 1930’s on land surrounding a natural spring. His philosophy from the beginning was to preserve the spring in as natural a state as possible and the philosophy still holds. The Lodge itself has been beautifully preserved, particularly the common rooms.


Of particular note is the ceiling, fabricated from heart cypress, or cypress that has been immersed in water or 50 years or longer making it impervious to rot. The ceiling was originally planned to be plain cypress. However, shortly after completion of the Lodge, Ball was approached by a German man who proposed painting “nice designs” on the ceiling. It was later revealed that Mr. Piplack was the last court painter for Kaiser Wilhelm. The painted scenes combine European folk art, and Native American and local wildlife scenes.

A massive fireplace is the focal point of the lobby. It is constructed of cement, poured on site, to simulate real stonework.

It is a tradition from previous years’ trips that there be a Talent, uh, Variety Show during the last rest layover. Tonight was the big night. Almost everyone managed to come up with some manner of performance. Peggy and Elisabeth performed mostly original lyrics to the tune of “My Favorite Things”.

Peggy, Elisabeth, Chef Linda, Lois

Recently Laurey petitioned the SAG drivers to be designated an “honorary SAG” as she helps with dish duty most nights. The SAG drivers deliberated for several days, mostly to keep Laurey in a high state of anticipation, but also to give Ann an opportunity to find an appropriate tiara at a Dollar General. Ann also found another road-trash teal necklace, which nicely matches Laurey’s toe polish.

I dearly missed Michelle for my performance, as she is a wonderful guitar player and I could have used the accompaniment. Here is my piece:

I Got the SAG Drivin’ Blues

SAG drivin’ is my retirement gig
And Little Bo Peep’s my official rig
Gassed up, stocked full, but the flock bemoans
Same ‘ole stuff, please stop the cheetos and candy cones.

Then there’s Ann, the OCD SAG driver from hell
Makes every last one wash thoroughly with Purell
Before they touch a scoop or the water jug nozzle
Those hands damn better be antiseptically sterile.

Fillin’ the jugs a real pain in the butt
End of day, SAGGY’s tired, and in a real huff
Out of nowhere Dave from Dallas materializes
Wants to help with the ice and SAGGY realizes
This is not all bad, it will lighten the load
Sherri helps me dump Dave before I implode.

I got the SAG drivin’ blues.

Micturation moment or prophylactic pee
Full bladder on the saddle, quite painful, don’t ‘cha see
What will the SAGGY come up with today
Flush toilets, big trees, many options to weigh.

Sorry to say, scrub brush and grass all I see
Not perfect conditions to take that PP
Truckers rumblin’ their rigs and havin’ some fun
As our big, white bottoms flash in the sun.

I got the SAG drivin’ blues.

Oversee the whole flock, what a SAG driver’s for
High winds, tornado warnings, unleashed dogs galore
Despite good intentions and safe miles ridden
Bumps, bruises, and road rash are daily a given.

Track crossings are tricky takin’ two riders down
Fifty mile crosswinds send Donna airborne
Elisabeth’s light bike and weight like a feather
Make her a casualty in such horrible weather.

Laurey decides to discard her arm warmers
While riding full speed down a hill, she’s a charmer
An intimate encounter with handlebars and gravel
Michael rescues, bike mends, a short break from travel.

We pick ‘em up, douse their wounds with good stuff
And send ‘em back out ‘cause they ain’t had enough
At the end of the day we recount all the trials
Each telling, the stories, they become oh so wild.

I got the SAG drivin’ blues.

Hallucinatin’ all mornin’ ‘bout crawfish etoufee
Bring on Mama Jack’s, if I don’t say
Dyin’ for more crawfish, but I’m not gonna sin
Goin’ back down the road to look for Marilyn.

She’s takin’ photos of old buildings, gettin’ chased by dogs
Or listenin’ to the chirps of the big bull frogs
Gotta get to dinner, pedal fast as she’s able
Chef Linda’s got the goods waitin’ on the table.

My SAG drivin’ days are comin’ to a quick end
Goodness gracious, it’s just around the next bend
The flock will soon scatter to all corners of the country
Where individually we’ll attempt to make a re-entry.

I got the SAG drivin’ blues, oh yeah
I got the SAG drivin’ blues.