Where's the Beach? Gulf Shores, AL

We got up at 5:30 am in New Orleans on Saturday morning--after a "wild" 50-something night eating oysters in New Orleans--and hit the road for Alabama. We had the privilege of watching the sun rise as we left the city, which also meant, as we drove east, that we got to look straight into the rising sun for the next few hours. And I forgot my sun glasses!

In Alabama, we stopped at the Kitty Cafe for some breakfast. Eggs and grits for me, poached egg and potatoes for Steve. The walls were covered in pictures of cats - and some dogs - the food was down home and delicious, the staff friendly, and the crowd happy (I even saw a few bloody Marys go by), but hovering over it all was the big screen in the corner broadcasting Fox News to everybody. It made me so sad to see that all of these people found it completely normal to eat breakfast with fear mongering propaganda in the background. There were at least two "news alerts" or "breaking news" segments while we ate - who knew so many disasters could happen in such rapid fire on a Saturday morning. The big one they kept returning to was the coronavirus--a story made for them. Fear, fear, fear.

After breakfast, we stopped by the Tiki Bike Shack to rent our bikes, but they were closed. So we headed down to the beach road to try another place. We turned into Gulf State Park to see if they had tandems. I thought we'd be riding straight and flat to get to Bon Secour Wildlife Refuge, which was supposed to be 9 miles down the road. The plan was to rent a tandem so Steve could relax a bit while I hoofed us down there to see the beach and the birds.

But the guy at the park said the road was dangerous and wasn't crazy about us leaving the park with the bikes. Was it true that we shouldn't ride on the road or was this just the opinion of a person who never rode bikes? (Most people tell me my bike rides are dangerous). In case he was right and we'd have to stay in the park, we rented two single bikes to allow for more flexibility on windy trails with lots of stops. The ranger laughed when I told him we'd changed our minds. He explained they called the tandem the "divorce mobile."

We headed off through the park past some beautiful water and marshland.

The ranger told us there was a nesting bald eagle by the trail, so the plan: ride past the eagle, sneak out of the park, and head west toward Bon Secour. Steve was amiably following along.

And sometimes leading.

I was looking in the treetops for the eagle's nest. The ranger didn't mention there was a permanent scope set up near the site (a Boyscout's Eagle project, which I thought was so fitting!).

We only found the scope because we made a wrong turn, like the crocodile we encountered while lost in Florida! Through the scope, the mother eagle looked like she was 6 feet tall, and for a few moments, we could see the heads of two chicks sticking up out of the nest. Pretty cool!

I took a few bad photos through the scope. In this one you can see most of the mother, but no babies peeking out of the nest.

 After the nest, we rode out onto this jetty, which was pretty unremarkable.

But you can see from the boardwalk that the park was beautiful and new and well maintained.

After a debatable number of miles - somewhere between 2 and 4! - we snuck out of the park on the Gulf Shores Highway where we found a nice bike trail heading west. I decided to gamble on taking this toward Bon Secour where I hoped we would find white sandy beaches and some interesting birds (although nothing could top the eagle at this point).

But the trail went on and on. And when I checked my map, it said Bon Secour was 12 miles away. How could that be when it was 9 miles away at the start? I decided there must be more than one. When I switched locations, it said 4 miles away. Steve was ready to turn around, so there would be no Bon Secour.

After we got back, I found this map. It shows where we stopped - at the end of the Jeff Friend Trail (heading west), where highway 180 turns north. Where we stopped there was no clear marking for the Centennial Trail, so I thought we'd have to ride on the road--which went out of the way. So I think we were even closer than 4 miles to the Pine Beach Trail which would have taken us into the refuge. But still, at this point, Steve had put in 30 miles in 2 days on a beach cruiser. He was ready to turn back, and I didn't blame him.

Here is a picture of the beach we didn't see at Bon Secour. 

I was disappointed not to get to the beach because we had already canceled our overnight trip to Dauphin Island. So while riding back, I had the idea that we would drive back to New Orleans by going out the beach road past Bon Secour to Fort Morgan where we could take the ferry to Dauphin Island, see the beaches there, then drive to New Orleans. And the ferry would be fun. So we turned back with the plan to go straight to the ranger office (and not through the rest of Gulf State Park where we could go to Orange Beach) so we could catch the ferry in time to get back for the Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans.

On the way back, we stopped the share the one Beignet that we'd saved from the SIX we ordered the day before. Nothing like a fancy but stale donut to power the bike.

Once we entered Gulf State Park, the landscape turned marshy again. You could smell that the beach was close, but we headed for the ranger office to return our bikes and hit the road. We'd gone 20 - 22 miles. Maybe more? There is some debate...

Thinking there would be plenty of beach on the drive to Fort Morgan and at Dauphin Island, we left Gulf State Park's Orange Beach behind us, unseen. Our toes still sandless!

Orange Beach in Gulf State Park

We arrived at the ferry to Dauphin Island just in time - sixth in line and 20 minutes to spare. The only bummer: no time to visit Fort Morgan.

There were no visible beaches on the drive, but we knew they were there, just over the dune somewhere.

Sitting in a stationary car on a moving ferry is very disconcerting. I don't know that I've ever done that before.

One thing I hadn't expected (but should have): oil rigs. We were on the Gulf, of course.

So if you came here for a week's vacation, all of your dreamy staring out to see would be dotted with these industrial mines pumping carbon rich crude into tankers to be burned and released into our warming atmosphere. While this is happening all the time, and fueling the very trip we were on (the plane, the car, the ferry), the constant reminder of something I rarely stop worrying about would be depressing on a short vacation.

Oil wells dot the horizon

We approach Dauphin Island, which looks blue and sleepy. No beaches visible from the ferry. Our plan, grab tacos at a little road side stand, get a view of the beach, then head to New Orleans.

But the taco stand was closed, there were no visible beaches from the short drive, and we found ourselves pointed straight for the bridge out of town. Sometimes the momentum of traveling carries you away and it is hard to force yourself to stop and look around for a minute. So before I knew it, I was driving toward the bridge as Steve said, "there was a lighthouse back there!" I never even saw it. And never laid eyes or toes on any white sand.

Dauphin Island

I don't know why I didn't stop or why we didn't drive around a bit. I think we had shifted gears and were focused on getting back in time for the Mardi Gras parade. And the fact the restaurant was closed shifted that travel momentum from stopping, to moving on to the next place. Whatever the reason, we shot out of dodge on the road to New Orleans.

Crossing the bridge from Dauphin Island to the mainland

As we approached the city, we drove straight into the setting sun just as we had in the morning. But we did make it in time to see the parade! Continue that journey here. 

State: 15

Distance: 20+ 😏

Speed: Beach cruiser time