Prudence prevails: Cycling sisters call trip quits in St. Augustine, Fla.

On Aug. 19, Evie Weber, 72, of Arlington Heights and her sister, Norma Witherbee, 76, began their latest bicycle Odyssey, a 2,700-mile trip from Bar Harbor, Maine to Miami, Fla. We've followed their trip through Evie's e-mailed dispatches along the way.Today is their 10th and final dispatch. The sisters are safely home now. Enjoy the last installment of the fate-filled "MM" trip.

The warnings started in a subtle way. We were riding on a busy, four-lane highway in one of the Southern states when I noticed a sign: "Beware of agitated drivers." Hmmm.

A week later we were having dinner at an Italian restaurant when this very chubby gentleman sat down at the table next to us. Not unusual, except for the fact that on his belt he had a holster housing a pistol! Because of his girth, it was unlikely that he could be a law enforcement officer.

My curiosity got the better of me. "Excuse me sir, why do you have a gun?" I asked.

"Doesn't everyone?" he replied. "What do you have for protection?"

"Well, I have my Swiss Army knife."

His eyebrows went up a notch. "That just doesn't do it! You need a gun. Why, just the other evening at Walmart, a man attempted to hold up a shopper returning to his auto. You can imagine the surprise when his intended victim brandished his weapon and held him at gunpoint until the police arrived."

Through the years and over the miles my sister, Norma, and I have traveled via bicycle we have encountered many sticky situations that most likely could have been avoided if only we would have heeded the warnings that folks tried to convey to us.

Be that as it may, these encounters gives us the material for our "out of the ordinary," tall tales that everyone appears to relish hearing about. Perhaps we are just big, grown up kids that have been encased in very mature bodies. Perhaps the unknown keeps our hearts ticking and our minds sharp? Or perhaps it IS time to grow up!

We love Georgia. The three days we cycled in Georgia we found beautiful roads, great shoulders, no dogs or trucks, trees for shade, good food and services that were spaced within a reasonable biking distance for us. It doesn't get much better than that.

Ten miles to go before we could call it quits for the day. Ten miles before we could find an air-conditioned motel and get out of this heat. Ten miles until we cycled into Woodbine, Ga. and another memorable adventure.

Woodbine is small-town America with houses that are not the "cookie cutter" variety so often found in typical suburban subdivisions. Some houses had picturesque white picket fences while others had fences that were in a sad state of disrepair. There were businesses that are prospering, some that are struggling and some where the doors closed for good. Fortunately the one and only motel in town was not among the latter group.

Food is fuel to our bodies, and we require a lot of it. Now you know the cyclists motto, "We ride to eat and we eat to ride." Captain Stan's was the one and only restaurant, if you can call it that, still in business and it was an honest to goodness "biker bar" and I'm not referring to bicyclists.

Here we are, Norma and I, plus all the aging bikers, having a cold one, eating fresh BBQ pork and swapping stories of the open road. We instantly became their "Biker Babes" and they felt that they needed to take care of us by informing us of the dangers that lay ahead.

Captain Stan leaned against the bar and proceeded to tell us about another bicyclist who stopped in a few weeks prior. He was going from the Florida Keys to Maine, just the reverse of what we were doing. As he was biking through Miami a police officer asked if he had a gun. "No, I don't," was his answer. "What, are you nuts? You better go get one!"

Is there a message here?

Now the stories are coming fast and furious about all the drug-related crimes happening between Fort Lauderdale and Homestead. They told us that Miami has more halfway houses than any other state in the Union. People are either on drugs, getting off drugs or getting back onto drugs.

They sure were doing a good job of trying to scare/persuade us not to go south of Daytona.

We were saying our goodbyes, when out of the blue Captain Stan invites us back for breakfast the next morning.

Seeing that the motel did not offer a continental breakfast - actually we've had enough of those types of breakfasts and fast-food restaurants were not an option even if there was one located next to the motel - we just couldn't gag down one more breakfast sandwich.

And while I'm on the subject, no more gas station hot dogs either. Yuck! We need real food -- eggs, bacon, toast and coffee with real cream. Cholesterol, just waiting to be consumed. Yum! In fact if you want to see big, big smiles on our faces, just give us a GOOD cup of coffee loaded with cream and sugar!

We joyfully accepted his offer. Even though he wasn't opened for business until lunchtime, he opened for us as he wanted to make sure we had a wholesome start to our day. And, oh yes, no charge!

This was to be a glory day. This is the day we enter Florida, our last state to cycle through. Miami here we come.

Only the Lord had other plans for us. He knew drastic measures had to be taken to make us take note of all those warnings. So He sent heat, humidity, traffic and Jeannie.

Jeannie Hargrave is a friend of ours who lives in Jacksonville, Fla. She cycled with us when we did the Lewis and Clark Trail in 2004. For those of you who have read all of our previous adventures in the Daily Herald, Jeannie had to terminate that journey because of a family tragedy - sadly, her brother was killed by terrorists in Saudi Arabia.

We entered Florida as the heat and humidity intensified. By the time we reached Yulee, Fla. and hooked up with Jeannie, we were looking to see who put that extra 20-pound anchor on our bikes. We were beyond wilted, we were going as slow as turtles and could not keep up with our water intake. Sweat was seeping out of every pore of our bodies.

At this point in our journey both "Adventure Cyclist" and the book we were we were using as a reference, "Bicycling the Atlantic coast," are now following identical routes. In addition, we had gone online and pulled up greenway.org for another comparison. Now, if all three sources are telling cyclists to go onto A1A wouldn't you think it's the safest way to go? Wrong. If suicide is your intention, then that's the route you should travel. Jeannie had different plans.

Jeannie has been cycling with the Jacksonville bicycle club for years and knows all the safe, quiet, back roads in the area. The only time we put our lives on the "white line" so the speak is when we had to cross over yet another high rise bridge spanning the intercostal waterways.

The next two days found us staying with some of Jeannie's friends, starting with Carmen Martinez, who owns the Amelia Oceanfront Bed and Breakfast.

As soon as we settled into our cozy apartment, we shed our sweaty, smelly riding cloths and slid into some comfy beach clothing with the intention of taking a dip in the Atlantic Ocean - that is, until we noticed two young surfers making a hasty retreat to land. It appears they spotted a shark in the water. We decided that reclining on lounge chairs is a far safer idea.

Sunrise found the three of us sitting out by the beach enjoying a good cup of coffee. As the sun cleared the horizon it became evident that this day was going to be blistering hot. And it was. For me it was the day from Hades. The afternoon heat inched toward the upper 90s with humidity to match. Riding under these conditions, well, if I were a mermaid it would be all right, but to me it was like trying to breath underwater and I was suffocating.

Fifteen miles from St. Augustine found us at the home of Ron, another friend of Jeannie's, but if you think we made it there under our own power, guess again. With 10 long, hot steamy miles remaining, our energy level was at minus zero. No, we didn't stick out our thumbs to hitch a ride nor did we knock on a stranger's door. It just so happened that on the road we were traveling lived another friend of Jeannie's, Bill and Linda Donovan, and we knocked on their door.

Saints be praised, they were home! Home basking in air conditioning. They took one look at us, stifled a laugh and then offered to drive us the rest of the way and we didn't refuse.

It didn't take long for the three of us to plant our weary bodies onto Ron's back porch swing sipping a tall glass of ice water while we watched the pelicans swooping and diving for fish in the Atlantic. It looked cool and refreshing enough for us to join them until Ron announced there is a trough in front of his house where an abundance of sharks hang out.

Enough! Get me back to the Midwest. I'm a Midwest girl and that's where I want to be especially after listening to the weather forecast - unseasonable hot, humid weather predicted for the next seven days.

Add all the traffic we would be facing as we approached Miami and then mix in the safety warnings we've been receiving.

It's time for Norma and I to make a decision. Should we go on? Or is it time to modify our trek, hang up our bikes and call my husband Larry to come and pick us up?

There have been three women in my lifetime who I have had great admiration for. Kathryn Hepburn for her spirit of independence, Amelia Earhart for her spirit of adventure and my sister Norma for her "I can do anything spirit." Norma always believes everything will turn out for the best and we can do it, and she is often right.

This time, however, she was in total agreement with me, it was time to say "Uncle" and pack it in.

St. Augustine became our final destination. In the olden days, people of our age were considered to be the "wise old ones." Well, I'm not too keen on the "old" part, but I think that the two of us have finally grown up and did make the wise choice.

This is the first time ever we've not finished what we set out to accomplish. Quite often when cyclists are unable to complete their goals, depression sets in. NOT US. We were glad to have the Senior Survival Bicycle Trek over with.

Don't misread me: It was important for us to bicycle the East Coast and we are proud of what we completed. It was a worthwhile experience for us and in light of today's uncertain times, it was rewarding to have so many people touch our lives in such a positive way. The MM bicycle trek is really all about America and her backbone, the people.

When I was a freshman in high school, my homeroom teacher was Mrs. Rice. Seating arrangements were alphabetical which put me in the back of the room with all the boys. I was a talker. I was always telling tall tales to a very select audience, much to the annoyance of Mrs. Rice. I cannot remember how many detentions I pulled because of my mouth. Until one day, when, in place of detention, I had to write a 500-word essay on why I should be quiet.

Within the body of my essay I decided to describe what Mrs. Rice looked like. She was five feet tall and almost as round. She sported a beehive hairdo (to the younger generation that's a Marge Simpson hair style except it's not blue) and then to make matters worse I said she looked like a monkey! Oh I was something back then.

Instead of her getting mad at me, she encouraged me to write stories. Well, way too many years have gone by before I actually put into practice what Mrs. Rice knew all along what I was capable of doing.

So Thank You, Mrs. Rice, wherever you may be, for having planted the seed in me. It just took awhile to sprout.

While camping in Virginia, we were treated to one of the most glorious sunsets that I have ever had the privilege to witness. I captured a photo of Norma looking off into the sunset and I could sense her feelings. Will this ride be our "sunset ride" or is it just an interlude until the dawn of yet another marvelous bicycling adventure?

Until then, I thank my husband Larry for giving me my freedom to "follow my heart," our parents for giving us good genes, Vemma for giving us energy, all the prayers we've received on our journey and the Lord for watching over us.

We welcome your comments and we can be reached at cyclingsisters@aol.com. I hope you've enjoyed my "tall tales" from the road and until next time-.

Happy Trails, Evie

<div class="infoBox"> <h1>More Coverage</h1> <div class="infoBoxContent"> <div class="infoArea"> <h2>Stories</h2> <ul class="links"> <li><a href="/story/?id=333000">Evie and Norma reflect on the flat land, friends in S.C. and fire ants<span class="date">[11/2/09]</span></a></li> <li><a href="/story/?id=327884">Near-disaster gives sisters a taste of generosity<span class="date">[10/12/09]</span></a></li> <li><a href="/story/?id=326035">Sans Larry, Evie and Norma plug on through New York, Delaware<span class="date">[10/5/09]</span></a></li> <li><a href="/story/?id=322974">At Cape Cod: Cycling sisters are over budget, but still happy<span class="date">[9/23/09]</span></a></li> <li><a href="/story/?id=320728">Off the beaten path, the adventures multiply<span class="date">[9/14/09]</span></a></li> <li><a href="/story/?id=318263">Life on the road takes a toll on beauty regimen<span class="date">[9/3/09]</span></a></li> <li><a href="/story/?id=316670">Trucks, hills, a blowout ... and a warm, moonless night full of stars<span class="date">[8/27/09]</span></a></li> <li><a href="/story/?id=313332">Suburban seniors biking from Maine to Miami<span class="date">[8/17/09]</span></a></li> </ul> </div> </div> </div>