Days 45-46: Miami-Dade County

I arrived in Fort Lauderdale, a nobleman's playground, mid-afternoon on Monday, October 12. I was here for less than 24 hours, but the city left an indelible impression. Never have I seen such a gaudy public display of wealth. The city hosts 7 miles of beaches, including one uninterrupted stretch I clocked at 2 miles before turning off to continue to Miami. A nice, little downtown center with 2- and 3-story shops and restaurants is interspersed with canals where residents dock their luxury yachts ostentatiously in full view of pedestrians.

Sometimes called the "Venice of North America," Fort Lauderdale is really more like Dubai. Bellydancers performed in open-air bars just yards from the beach, palm trees swayed in the night breeze and high end hotels. Previously a top spring break destination, in the mid-1980's Fort Lauderdale passed strict laws to discourage college students from visiting and to prevent the mayhem that occurred. The city is now a top gay vacation destination and playground for the very wealthy from the northeast, although there is a bad side of town, home to very poor, mostly minority families. Talking to a staff member at the hostel, he said very few people are from Ft. Lauderdale.

Although the beaches are lovely, just off the coast of Fort Lauderdale is the Osborne Reef, an artificial "reef" made of discarded tires that has proven to be an ecological disaster. Back in the 1960's, the city thought, hey we have trash and fish need reefs, why don't we create a reef out of used tires and other refuse for them?" However, in the rugged and corrosive environment of the ocean, nylon straps used to secure the tires wore out, cables rusted, and tires broke free, migrating shoreward and running into a living reef tract, killing many things in their path. Local authorities are now working to remove the 700,000 tires. Now that is almost funny.
I spent the next night at another hostel in South Beach, Miami. Although I'd be arriving on a Tuesday, I'd worried about this day's ride because it was very urban, and indeed this was the first and only time I was pulled over by the cops. They'd caught me riding on the wrong side of the road and running a red light. Whoops. I was riding in the left lane due to the frequent "mergings" on and off of local highway stretches, but they were having none of it. Fortunately, I received only a warning.

Miami Beach is a hip, fashionable place with a distinct latin flair. Famous for its meticulously-restored art deco architechture and Scarface-style drug and mob history. The beaches were beautiful and I spent several hours romping in the waves. I originally planned to stay for two nights to look around but my room in the hostel smelled funny and I was preoccupied, worrying about the safety of my bike and gear.