The GPS programmed for Raiford, Florida, I left the motel in Fanning Springs. Not that I'd ever heard of or needed to go to Raiford, but according to Google Earth it's a central location from which to line up with my northern destination of Douglas, Georgia, another place I've never heard of or needed to go, but it lines me up with back roads that keep me east of Atlanta, a place I "have" heard of and have no desire to go.
I didn’t need fuel at Raiford but was in need of food, having missed breakfast. And there wasn't even coffee at the Park Inn in Fanning Springs. The granola bar and water I had in LaCrosse didn’t take. Nothing in Raiford but a convenience store / gas station called "Kangaroo Express". I've seen others. Must be a chain down south?
That'll do, I reasoned, thinking mainly of coffee in spite of the already sweltering heat. But what I really wanted to buy in the store was a Georgia road map. Though the GPS was working fine, I wondered about its sudden loss of calculating power causing me to stumble out of Saint Augustine two mornings ago. What if it happens again? I need a map backup.
The store had no maps. Sign of the times I guess.
Pretty soon paper maps will be obsolete, if they aren't already. I settled for some Hazelnut coffee and two apple fritters, which I sipped and chewed while sitting "side saddle" on the bike in the semi shade, watching the locals come and go. Kangaroo Express is the happening place in downtown Raiford.
I set the GPS for Fargo, Georgia, another small town on my backroads quest, and followed it's directions onto County Road 229. As I did so a peripheral glimpse caught the words of a passing sign ... something about a bridge out on 229 in Baker County.
For six miles I wondered if that's what it actually said. I also considered the GPS information that I had to be on County Road 229 for 31 miles before turning onto Highway 2, to Fargo. It would be my luck to come upon the washed out bridge in 30 miles and have to backtrack all the way to Raiford. It was time to consult the GPS about its "detour" feature. I stopped in the isolated jungle, in the skin-melting-no-shade heat, and we discussed the situation.
The GPS advised a couple miles up the
road was a left turn onto County Road 238. I went there and did
that. The road was even narrower and more isolated than 229, if that's possible. Two miles until a
“right turn” on 3rd
street, said the GPS. How could that be? We're in the middle of nowhere. Okay, there must be a town in two miles. Wrong! There was a road though, or what used to be a road, never paved and was grown up in weeds. I rode on. The GPS went nuts, but just for a moment. Now it wanted me to take another right turn ahead. Yep. Another dirt road. Again I ignored it. Again the GPS panicked. We argued all the way to Lake Butler, a small town that surprisingly popped up out of no where. Soon thereafter we were north bound on Highway 100, a real highway with a center line and traffic, which we followed all the way to Fargo and beyond.
Nothing of consequence happened the rest of today's ride unless you count being rained on. I didn't mind. It was a quick dousing and actually felt good.
Granola Bar Stop In LaCrosse, Florida |
Breakfast At The Kangaroo Express In Raiford, Florida |
Image From Google Earth Showing The Dirt Road Suggested By The GPS. |
Fanning Springs To Douglas, Georgia (197 Miles) |
3 comments:
A remarkable trip on a motorcycle.
Good old GPS. I read you clear as I finally shut mine off and drove the way I had memorized the routings. I could drive 10 miles before it ever figured out what to do, so I drove according to the memorized routing I always do. By the way, Raiford is a penatentory (sp) town.
I've had many similar "discussions" with my GPS. Sometimes we just talk, sometimes we raise our voices. Sometimes it turns out that I'm right, sometimes the voice that I call "Judy Garmin" is right. On the motorcycle, I'm not rigged for sound, but I can still mentally hear her telling me how wrong I am - and saying "recalculating" in an irritated tone of voice. I haven't kept an exact record, but she is probably right more often than I am - but when she is wrong, she is very wrong.
By the way, "adventure" is what you call it when it is over. During, it just seems to be a pain in the butt.
Thanks for sharing your adventures. I thoroughly enjoy your blog. Your writing and your pictures are outstanding.
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