After our ignominious traffic stop we hot-footed it to Eastlake Campground on Lake Seminole—at least as hot-footed as Speedy gets. We don't travel fast, but we do travel on our stomachs. The only stops were for lunch, groceries and coffee.
Eastlake is a Corps of Engineers campground at the dam at the southern end of Lake Seminole, which, of course, only exists because of the dam. It is right on the Florida/Georgia border with the dam in Florida and the campground in Georgia. We are back on Eastern time.
It seems that all ACOE campgrounds are nice as this is the fourth one we've stayed at and all have been excellent, with electricity, water, showers and flat, if not paved, sites. It was pretty full, but we were able to get a paved pull-through site in a loop back from the lake. It was only after the sun went down, that we noticed that it was right under a very bright sodium vapor streetlight. We hadn't been parked under lights since the last Flying-J stopover. But we were tired and slept the night away.
We woke quite late the next morning. It really wasn't late with respect to sunrise, but as we are on the western edge of the time zone and it being daylight saving time March (a poor excuse for an energy policy), sunrise is at 7:45 am. Ellen noticed that there was a now empty site further along our row, and nearer the lake and suggested that we see if it was available. When checking online, we noticed that there was a site right on the lake, that was now available and would be free until the 19th. I quickly walked up to the gate and arranged to move to it, before it was scooped up.
After we finished breakfast and disconnected Speedy, we moved to our new site, right on a corner and on the lake. It is relatively private, has a great view and comes with resident bluebirds and yellow-rumped warblers. Time to relax...yeah, right!
Time to get out the mountain bikes and find the visitor center. We knew that it was off the main road into the campground and surmised that it might be at the dam. So, we rode along the lake and up to the top of the dam, hoping that it was there. The alternative was a fairly long hill climb back to the main road. It wasn't at the dam—but there was a little marsh where the road turned up to the dam. The marsh had lots of big turtles, a great blue heron, American coots, common moorhens and an alligator.
There wasn't anything open to the public at the dam, so it was back down to the lake and up the long hill to the main road, where the resource office was located. With our fill of maps, pamphlets and the necessary bird list, it was back to Speedy.
My back, which I strained back at Buck Hall and re-strained at Fort Pickens was pretty sore after the previous day's drive and the bike ride, so it was nothing but rest for the remainder of the day and all of the next day, where we spent the day by the picnic table in the shade of our tarp watching the birds and the alligators swim by. It was a hot day, getting to almost 90°; we even exercised Speedy's air conditioner.
Things were better today, so it was time to finally get the motorcycles out. There is a nice twisty road, Booster Club Road, that goes north along the lake which meets a state route going to Bainbridge, GA. That was our destination. We left just after breakfast, as the forecast was for another unseasonably hot day and the ride was a pleasant one with the right number of curves and no traffic until just before we got to Bainbridge. The town has a small historic downtown, with a tree-covered square with the requisite Civil War monument.
Ellen was taking a photo of the monument when she got chatted up by a charming, 82 year old, southern gentleman who was waiting in the park to meet his uncle, equally old. After learning his life history, we excused ourselves and went off in search of coffee. Amazingly, there was a cafe and coffee roaster, The Bean Cafe, right on the square. We had our coffees, a cinnamon roll and a bit of Internet access.
As it was getting hot quickly, we decided to take the fast route back. As we were getting back on the bikes, we noticed that the old gentleman had met his uncle. The two could have been twins, small and thin, dressed almost identically in tan jackets with brown fedoras. We took the state route directly back to Chattahoochee, Florida, and then to the campground, which it just out of town.
After that, it was off to worship the god of laundry.
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