Reason for this Bicycle Tour

On June 10, 2013 I set out from my brother and sister-in-laws home in Brantford, Ontario on a solo bicycle tour to Florida. Life has seemingly come full circle. This tour is a healing journey... mentally, physically and spiritually.

In 1986, at the age of 24, I had taken a term off my university study and bicycle toured from St. Thomas, Ontario to Fort Lauderdale, Florida. The 1986 tour was a significant turning point in my life and included my being severely assaulted by clergy, something that I repressed for over 20 years. Despite the assault I made decision to answer my life's calling to be a healer and educator - a chiropractor.

After over twenty years of repressing the "crisis" event during that tour, writing a memoir was an initial act of growth and healing. In the end, the memoir offers the reader profound insight into the healing journey. The memoir can be found Amazon, International Health Publishing.

Physically, I am recovering from a severe shoulder injury and subsequent disability. The injury led to the sale of my chiropractic practice in Halifax, Nova Scotia in September of 2012.

Thanks for looking in on my journey. Sincerely, Dr. Pat

Wednesday 31 July 2013

Vero Beach to 4 Busted Spokes in Stuart, Florida 46.1miles (74.1 km)

After a full day off yesterday in Vero Beach, I had every intention of putting some big miles behind me.  I left Vero Bach at a little after 7:00 am and rode a quick 12.7 miles (20.4 km) to a Cumberland Farms Gas Bar and Variety Store where I stood hydrating myself with 2 bottles of Starbucks Cold Coffee and a bottle of coconut water. An ol' timer named Fred asked if I was on a long trip and burst out laughing when I told him I started in Brantford, Ontario. He wasn't laughing at me, but rather because he used to live in the Orillia, Ontario area. 

We talked for a while and then one of his friends showed up, Rick, a Ukrainian who recalls the Nazi's chasing Jews through the woods when he was only five-years-old. While Rick was in the store, Fred proceeded to tell me that Rick's mother was shot through the chest, by Germans as she held him. "I don't understand how people can do this to one another," Fred said. 
"Did you see Rick's hair when he walked by? It looks like a wig doesn't it? It's his real hair."

Rick walked out and I couldn't help but notice how Fred was correct about the hair which was unusually thick, mostly grey and with tight curls that created the appearance of a helmet of hair atop the romanesque face of Rick. The three of us stood talking about US versus Canadian politics and health care. They wished me well and I was once again on my way.

About 8 miles out of Fort Pierce along Highway A1A I passed the Florida Power and Light - St. Lucie Nuclear Power Plant.


The St. Lucie nuclear plant started operating in 1976 with one unit. A second unit was added in 1983. This plant generates approximately 1,700 million watts of electricity which is enough to supply over 500,000 homes for a year. I have no doubt that consumption is up given the use of air conditioners during these hot summer months. The heat index was over 90F by 9:30 this morning! I was more concerned about me having a meltdown than any nuclear power plant.

I continued down A1A until Stuart Beach where I stopped for lunch and to wait out the heat of the day. Once over the Intercostal Waterway Causeways and in the town of Stuart, I turned onto South East Monterey Road (Route 714) which would bring me to Highway 1 South. I was in a line of traffic at the intersection of Monterey and Old Dixie, planning to turn left onto Old Dixie. I could feel the heat radiating up from the pavement below which was coupled with the hot exhaust from the pick-up truck in front of me. The driver of that pick-up looked at me in his rearview mirror a couple of times. I signalled to the cars behind and beside me that I'd be turning left when the light changed.
A car horn gave a short honk that I intuitively knew was for me, but I wasn't sure why. The light changed.

I pedalled hard to gain momentum and keep up with the traffic, but I heard a clunk followed by a snap-twang and then another snap-twang and then one more snap-twang. I kept pedalling until I was through the intersection. I had heard that kind of clunk before... when a stick or limb from a tree gets caught in your spokes.

I don't know for sure but someone may have gotten out of their car and meanly and intentionally stuck something in my spokes. I only surmise this because of the guy in the pick-up looking at me (or someone coming up behind me) and the car honking at me - probably to warn me of what I was about to befall.

Standing at the side of the Old Dixie Highway, I turned my iPhone's Data Feature on so that I could Google the nearest bike shop. Thankfully, Bike Street USA was located within a mile of where I stood.


This is Genady Zisholtz of Bike Street USA repairing my bike. Genady and his coworker Corinne Schmid welcomed me to the shop and provided me with excellent service. Bike Street USA is a corporate owned company with numerous locations. The service that these two individuals gave me though, reminded me of the excellent type of service that I had received by the owners of privately run shops, like Camden Bicycle Shop in St Marys, Georgia and Village Bicycle in Tuckerton, New Jersey.

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