Pedal to the mettle

The trip from Seminole to Plano, Texas, wasn't just exercise. It was a quest.

By SHEILA MULLANE ESTRADA
Published November 28, 2006

Donald and Nancy Hufziger pose for a photo after crossing the border between Texas and Louisiana. The trip took 30 days.
	[Family photo]

ADVERTISEMENT [Times photo: Bill Serne] Donald and Nancy Hufziger have had outdoor adventures before. They once backpacked for three months in the Colorado Rockies.

SEMINOLE - If you are like most people, you really do intend to exercise more and live a healthier lifestyle.

But, like many of us, you probably find pledges are easier to make than to keep. Too often, habits of a lifetime get in the way. We say tomorrow, next week, next month.

Not the Hufzigers. They turned a pledge to their doctor into a mission: a mission that became a 1,358-mile adventure.

"We needed a goal, something to work toward. Just exercising was not enough," says Don Hufziger.

Don, 75, and his wife, Nancy, 73, bought two bicycles, rode the Pinellas Trail until they could do 50 miles a day, and then planned a trek to Plano, Texas, to visit their daughter and her family.

Despite their ages, the Hufzigers' ambitious plan was not totally out of character. Back when they owned restaurants in Michigan, they backpacked for three months in the Colorado Rockies, canoed the Minnesota waterways, even helped crew a 32-foot sailboat from Michigan's Detroit River, through Lake Erie, the Erie Canal, down the Hudson River and then along the Atlantic seaboard and around the Keys to St. Petersburg.

Roll forward a few decades. Don and Nancy, after completing a rigorous, three-month program of training, were packed and ready to go on their latest adventure. But just days before they were scheduled to leave, Don had a heart attack.

The trip was off.

The next year they were again ready when Nancy, a diabetic, was hospitalized for surgery.

The couple were sure the third time would be the charm, but Don, who has lived with bone cancer for years, found he needed knee surgery.

Still, they didn't give up.

Undaunted, at 8:07 a.m. on a sunny April morning last spring, the Hufzigers finally peddled from their Seminole home to begin their most recent journey toward new worlds and new friendships.

They each carried 40 to 50 pounds of gear in saddlebags - clothing, tools, camping equipment, bug spray, medicine, water and a two-day supply of food.

Their route took them up the Pinellas Trail to Tarpon Springs, then north on U.S. 19 to a motel in Port Richey, where they spent their first night.

The next day, they picked out another motel for the coming night and renewed their bicycle trek at 7 a.m., stopping by mid afternoon.

This was to be their pattern for the 30 days, four hours and 53 minutes it took them to bicycle from Seminole to Plano.

Don still has the map of the route he planned - and which he occasionally adjusted on the advice of people they met along the way.

Their route took them through the pine barrens of Florida's Panhandle, where the only traffic seemed to be loggers. It took them on a ferry and then over a 10-mile bridge to cross Mobile Bay.

On reaching their motel in Bayou La Batre, Ala., Don and Nancy discovered their children had arranged for a six-pack of beer and a bottle of wine to be placed in their room.

Other nights, when no motel was available, the Hufzigers camped out.

When the going seemed to get tough, Nancy sang.

One benefit of the day-long bike rides she welcomed: The exertion meant she could tolerate more sugar in her diet.

"She became the ice cream monster," recalls Don.

Most of the time, the couple say, they felt safe and were welcomed by "many nice people" on their journey.

"There was one campground where I slept with my handgun under the pillow," says Don, "but that was the only time I was a little nervous."

In fact, most people they met went out of their way to help the Hufzigers.

In Louisiana, Nancy's bike broke down. Don stopped a passing truck to ask if there was a bicycle shop nearby. Trucker Charlie and his wife, Linda, loaded the Hufzigers and their bikes into their rig, took them to their home to locate a bicycle shop, and then drove them 50 miles to Baton Rouge and back to get Nancy's gearshift fixed.

"They wouldn't accept any money, but we did treat them to lunch on the way back," says Don.

They also learned some unexpected lessons:

- Ask the price of food before ordering (a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cost $3.95 at one small cafe).

- Cows are fascinated by people on bicycles and will watch or sometimes "stampede" after them.

- Plan ahead for a supply of beer and wine when traveling through "dry" counties.

- Water towers signal that a town or city is ahead.

- Love bugs don't like their pictures taken. They clustered about and often covered the couple until one of the Hufzigers took out a camera - and the bugs disappeared.

- Few people are able to determine distances or give correct directions.

- The majority of trucks on the road are from Wal-Mart.

- The most common roadside debris (in order): cans and bottles, tires, disposable cigarette lighters and black rubber bungee cords.

Some scenes remain vivid in the Hufzigers' memories - the still-standing skeletons of homes and buildings left along the Gulf Coast by Hurricane Katrina . . . a field full of black Belted Galloway cattle with unusual white markings around their mid-sections . . . Louisiana rice paddies filled with crayfish.

Don and Nancy are proud of their accomplishment. They enjoy looking at a scrapbook and computer CD filled with pictures taken during the trip. They love telling the story behind each picture.

Now they are planning their next bike trip - 1,700 miles to Michigan, where their younger son lives with his family.

[Last modified November 28, 2006, 06:56:47]