Pictures from the Road

What We've Learned

• We love Florida.  Love it!
  



• The habitat throughout the state is much more diverse than we'd have imagined.
  
  
• 'Tis better to be in Florida than in New England, in March.
  
  
• Armadillos are cute little things.
  
  
• Alligators are sweet-natured.  You don't want to get too close to a male during mating season, or a female with young ones, but they generally are people-shy, and are smoochy and huggy with each other in the water.
  
  



• Every part of this country has been deeply informed by its earliest inhabitants, the Native Americans.  The influence is there in road layouts, water travel routes, coping with climate, foods, etc.
  
  
• Florida's northeast forests have a sweet smell.
  
  
• Disney World is far less "commercial" and kitschy than we expected.  They are serious about ecological conservation, and most of the exhibits and rides focused on this.
  
  
• Miami and Miami Beach are two separate cities.
  



• Cuban food isn't spicy, but sweet.
  
  
• The Ringling Brothers, circus entrepreneurs, weren't goofballs, but savvy businessmen!
  
  
• Conch is pronounced "conk."
  
  
• Poisonwood exists.
  
  
• ATT beats out Verizon in the Everglades.
  



• Google Maps on a Blackberry or iPhone is one of the most useful programs you can have when traveling.
  
  
• Hammocks are hardwood-tree islands surrounded by sawgrass, or other flora.  There are many of these in southern Florida.
  
  
• Cubans have been in Florida much longer than we realized, since the mid-1800's, when they established the cigar industry, well before Castro's regime.
  
  
• Bates RV is every bit as good as their ads suggest.
  



• The sand on the Gulf of Mexico is white because of its high proportion of quartz.
  
  
• Flamingoes are no longer common in Florida.
  
  
• The Everglades are not swamp-land.
  
  
• God surely had a hand in the national proliferation of Starbucks.
  
  
• When a trailer you are pulling is wildly swinging behind your car, one wants to accelerate, NOT brake.
  
  
• We have the capacity to live together in a nineteen-foot tube for a month.  Guess the marriage may last another thirty years!
  
  
• Again, we love Florida.  LOVE.

Bad Luck or Good?

The day started off well enough, stage 2 of our trek back home. We left the campground at Fort McAllister State Park near Savannah, GA by 9:00 a.m., enjoyed a good Southern breakfast, and, settled in with books and i-Pod, began the long drive north on I-95.

About an hour and a half later, in the vicinity of Yemassee, South Carolina, everything changed. Route 95 is two-lanes wide there; we were in the left lane, when a car we were passing moved toward us. David swayed to give him some room, perhaps correcting too quickly, or it's possible a tire blew, but the Airstream immediately began fishtailing badly behind the truck.

The action of the trailer was frightening. We heard crashing as it twisted from one side to the other, and imagined it was being destroyed. Its actions and David's attempts to regain control soon brought us completely off the road surface and onto the far-left-side grassy (and tree-dotted) median. We both felt sure the truck and trailer were going to roll over. At the same time that J. thought, "He's going to have to accelerate out of this," David did just that, and the Yukon responded, bringing us back onto hard road surface. D. touched the trailer brake controller, and the Airstream settled into line with the truck. We had survived a terrifying 15 seconds, but all was not well.

We pulled into the breakdown lane expecting the worst. What we found was, while not good, not nearly as bad as the scary sounds had led us to believe.

Both tires were blown; one just gone, its wheel completely shattered. One of the hitch's weight distribution bars had failed, and there was seemingly minor damage at two corners where the body of the trailer had actually hit the pavement as it swayed. Inside, the trailer's contents were scattered everywhere. Surprisingly, everything else on both the truck and the Airstream seemed to be intact.

A car stopped behind us, and two kindly women and a man got out, all white as a sheet. The man said to David, "That was a heck of a piece of driving," as one of the women gave Jacquie a much-needed hug. We are so grateful for their stopping, staying with us a bit, and helping us get "grounded" again after that hair-raising incident!

With two blown tires, and cars flying by at breakneck speed, we needed help. J. called 911 and reported the incident to the State Patrol, but we didn't know exactly where we were on I-95, and it took them about an hour and a half to find us. Meanwhile, we pulled out our considerable travel resources: Good Sam RV lists, WBCCI (the Airstream club) directory, iPhone, Blackberry Storm, Google Maps, and proceeded to search for a repair facility and someone to tow us there. For the record, it was the WBCCI directory and Google Maps on the Blackberry that provided the most help.

But towing assistance was about a hundred miles away, so we spent a loooong 3 hours waiting beside the road before Buck arrived with his flatbed tow-truck to take our precious Bambi on board.

Buck was a good and careful man, and an hour later the Bug was tied down and we were once again moving north on I-95 to Donmar RV, an Airstream repair shop in Lynchburg, SC.

It was nearly 6:00 p.m. by now, and we were deeply grateful that the people at Donmar stayed open an hour late, until we came in for an initial look-over. Real evaluation would have to wait 'till morning, but the repair shop's early indications were positive. With luck, we'll be on our way with a couple of new tires and wheels tomorrow afternoon. We are praying there is no issue with the axle assembly, or other more serious damage. Meanwhile, it was up the road to a hotel, dinner, and a much-needed glass of scotch for David.

As we settled in for the evening, we discovered that all this bad luck might just have saved us from a worse situation. I-95 in Fayetteville, NC was hit by tornados at just about the time we would have been passing through. So we head for bed knowing we're safe and sound, just a tad rattled, but very glad it wasn't worse than it was.

Wild. Life.

We couldn't have chosen a better place to end our exploration of Florida. We drove into St. Andrews State Recreation Area a little before Sunset last night, set up camp less than 10 feet from the water, and cooked our dinner over our second campfire of the trip. Florida has been in a multi-year drought and open fires were prohibited in most of the places where we've camped, so flame-broiled burgers were a treat.

But wait — there's more!












We are camped on the sheltered side of the peninsula here, and this morning we were greeted by the resident heron. Our neighbors, a pastor and his wife from Georgia, cleaned some mackerel they had caught, and brought a flurry of activity from the local pelicans and terns that entertained us while we ate our breakfast. On a walk later this morning, we came across a pair of red-wing blackbirds — a much showier variety than ours in Maine.

This park is known for having some of the whitest sand in the world, and it's called "The Emerald Coast" because of the green water. So this afternoon, we hiked over to the Gulf side of the park to see it for ourselves, and found a different sort of wild life. It was a completely different place.


There, on the windward side of the peninsula, surf like none we'd ever seen crashed into the whitest sand beach we have ever seen.

The wind was blowing relentlessly off the Gulf, producing a dangerous rip current. Flags were flying that prohibited swimming;  the wind blew them out straight.


Surprisingly, surfers are exempt from the swimming prohibitions, and they were out in force — not only conventional surfers, but kite surfers as well. the wind was perfect for them, lifting them high into the air off the crests of the waves. They really looked like they were having fun.



As for us, we were content to watch from the white beach, enjoying our last full day in what we've come to know as the beautiful state of Florida.




Later this afternoon, another unexpected encounter with wildlife.

Our neighbor told us that a family of owls had been discovered in the park. David, sensing a photo-op, took a little drive. 

One of the owls had fallen from the nest, and had been given a new home, where we're told the mother is feeding him regularly. We never saw the mother, but the young owl was a patient subject for David's camera.



And so ends our exploration of Florida. We've had a lot of fun, and we've learned a lot — but that's a story for another time. For now, with the waves lapping softly just outside our door, it's time for bed.

Mecca

We are now at our last stop in Florida — how quickly the month has gone!

We hit the road this morning in a northwestly direction, headed for the Florida panhandle — the "Emerald Coast," or as it used to be called, "Redneck Riviera."   Our campsite upon arrival was an awesome surprise — one never quite knows what one will "get" when making reservations, but we are parked about eight feet from the Gulf of Mexico. Beautiful! Pictures to come.

It was a lengthy drive here, with only one stop planned along the way: Bates RV, a great store for Airstreamers!

We've seen their ads in Airstream Life magazine, knew that they are one of the biggest Airstream dealers in the country, even recognized their billboard with the cute real half-Airstream cutout.

The first thing we saw there was the Vintage Airstream Village, which transported us back to the early days of the "Silver Twinkie." Little rigs from the 1940's-60's are perched in a circle, with the requisite pink flamingoes gracing the path. So cute!

The Parts Department (the Buglet needed a few small things) was impressively efficient, the young woman behind the counter leaving for only a moment and returning with D-rings, replacement light lens, new propane detector, etc. We're not accustomed to such great customer service from our — ahem — Maine dealership. Seeing us eye the Airstream-related goodies on display, she recognized us for the suckers we are, and brought out logo'ed key-chains, hats, t-shirts, watches, coffee mugs, and even pajamas. Many of which of course we bought. Big commission for her today!

Afterward, it was necessary to do pilgrimage to the nearby Airstream Stonehenge, known here as the "Airstream Ranch" (after the similar "Cadillac Ranch" in Texas). This place is practically holy ground to 'Streamers, who are now battling town officials who consider this longtime mecca an "eyesore." We are on the Airstream side, of course.

Which means that we also bought two matching "Save the Airstream Ranch" t-shirts. Such a good cause!

Ain't Just about the Clowns

We spent a fun and relaxing Monday visiting the Estate, Art Museum, and Circus Museum of John Ringling, one of the five circus entrepreneurs, the Ringling Brothers.

But wait... Estate? Art Museum?

It's easier to imagine people involved in the early history of circuses to be kind of rowdy folks, akin to fairground barkers or strange people who can do things like twist their heads all the way around. The Ringling boys were said to have gone to a circus when they were very small, and so enjoyed themselves they determined to learn everything about it, even practicing acts and holding impromptu shows in their back yard. They never lost their sense of excitement and dedication, and despite being initially drawn into the venture by the thrill of circus acts they'd witnessed, these were intelligent businessmen, who eventually went on to create one of the pre-eminent circuses in America.

The estate, known as Ca d' Zan (which means "House of John" in the Italian dialect spoken in Venice,) belonged to John, the youngest of the Ringling Brothers, and his wife Mabel, who were in fact connoisseurs of art. Their early trips to Europe were with the Ringling Circus, but while there they became enamored of European art, and eventually became serious, knowledgeable collectors. Their home is grand and elegant, built in the 1920's in the Venetian Gothic style they both loved. It is full of antiques collected in their travels. Large doors lead out to a piazza overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, very beautiful!


The Art Museum holds works by Rubens, Titian, and many other important "Old Master" painters, along with Greek, Roman, and Asian artifacts, and works by more modern well-known artists such as Marcel Duchamp.


These were purchased by John Ringling in his travels abroad, or from auction houses he enjoyed frequenting in New York and London. He had the Museum built in the late 1920's to house his huge collection.




The Circus Museum includes old costumes, handbills, clown props, and other artifacts from the Ringling Circus's early days. Some of the big parade wagons which held lions and elephants are here, reminiscent of bright gypsy caravans.

Most impressive is a miniature replica of the Circus in its heyday years of the 1920's and 30's. This was created by the master model builder Howard Tibbels, and features incredible detail!

There are thousands of wee circus performers and workers, animals, train cars, tents, ticket booths, etc., all done to perfect scale.  We could have spent the entire day looking over this exhibit, and still not taken everything in.

Also on the grounds is the reconstructed Asolo Theatre, original to 1790's Italy. In the 1930's, this was about to be razed by new Italian fascist leaders, who considered it "decadent." The decorative panels were rescued by an art dealer who purchased and then stored them. Twenty years later, they were sold to the Ringling Museum's first art director, who had the theatre rebuilt on the estate premises. Today, it remains an active community venue for the performing arts.


The estate's landscaping is beautiful, too, with big fascinating banyan trees everywhere, as well as elegant antique statues, and Mable's beloved rose garden.

We really didn't expect to encounter elegance when we decided to visit the "Ringling Museum" on this rainy day. We truly did think it would be all about the clowns!

Ybor City, or "What this country needs is a good hand-rolled cigar."

We woke to very chilly temps this Sunday morning — heavens, only in the 60's!! However will we cope with the cold temperatures back home? We've become fond of sleeping on top of the blankets, in summer pj's, with the windows open!

We are in the Tampa area as we make our way northward, soon to return to Maine. We have mixed feelings — Florida is so beautiful, and we finally understand what motivates snow-birds to leave our equally lovely Maine. But we are missing our family and friends, our daughter, grandchildren, our adorable dog Willie who must be VERY confused by now, and our kitty Pumpernickel. I imagine our reunion this weekend will be very sweet indeed. Oddly, what we don't miss so much is the house... again, we realize how easy it would be to live in a 19-foot trailer full-time!

When we arrived here yesterday, our campsite was not yet available, but we were able to park the Zeppelin in a beach lot, pack a picnic lunch, and hike a bit in the State Park we're visiting.  We're only a couple of hours north of the Everglades, and yet the landscape has shifted dramatically — this is part of what makes Florida so interesting! Once settled in and hooked up, we headed into the city of Tampa, where we encountered the "Ybor City" district. This is where the Cuban cigar industry in America was established in the latter 1800's.

The area is named after Vicente Martinez Ybor, a Spaniard who went to Cuba as a young man, learned the cigar trade, and amassed a small fortune. Seeking the freedom to escape the rise of organized labor (and revolutionary rumblings), he emigrated to Key West for awhile, found it difficult to move his inventory, as the Key was not then connected to the mainland. And so he came to this location, where with a few other early industrialists he helped establish the community (and where, to his dismay, he still had to deal with organized labor).

This is now a National Historical Landmark District, and is very charming, as well as architecturally lovely. Buildings have been well maintained or restored.  We loved the old storefronts with balconied apartments upstairs, and can imagine the place in its heyday, when we imagine lovely ladies sat on the balconies blowing kisses to handsome boys below.

We made a stop at the Ybor City Museum State Park, which provided good exhibits about the Cubans, Spaniards, Italians, and European Jews who arrived to work in the cigar factories, or to open businesses serving those who worked in them.

But mostly our time was spent strolling up and down the pretty Main Street, enjoying the architecture and ducking into a couple of vintage-clothing shops — my favorite thing!

We finished the day with a good meal at the beautiful Columbia Restaurant, which serves Spanish food, and has been run by the same family since 1905.  We both chose dishes that are original to the place, and what a delight to consider ourselves eating from recipes served continuously since that time. The interior and exterior architecture here is beautiful, and I swear, that makes the food taste even better.

Birds & Alligators: Everglades III

Our last day in the Everglades, and there were a couple more things we wanted to do here before moving on.

We were up very early (for us!), having fallen into bed exhausted at around 9:00 p.m. last night.  So rather than doing our usual dawdling, knowing that we were moving on to a new area in Florida, we left the campsite before dawn — so strange to be packing up and hitting the road in the dark!

We stopped for breakfast at a place we picked at random from those listed in our GPS. It ended up being really delightful. It was a Cuban bakery, where the only coffee available was sweet expresso ("no coffee American..."). We had a scrambled egg dish with scrumptious bread — very flat, as if cooked in a panini pan, but full of buttery flavor! While there, we had an interesting conversation with a man who left Cuba when he was only ten — he's in his late 50's now, and remembers the disruption of the Castro regime. and the whole Bay of Pigs fiasco. This is when his family emigrated to the U.S.

We couldn't leave the bakery without buying some of the guava-filled pastries, which we've put aside for a special treat to have with coffee in the Airstream tomorrow morning.  One of the BEST things about traveling, always, is the regional foods we encounter — things we simply can't get in our own little neck of the woods.

Our first stop was at Everglades National Park's Shark Valley area, where we boarded a tram that took us into the "River of Grass," the terrain we are beginning increasingly to recognize — sawgrass with water paths, now dry, 'gators beside any water source they can find, hardwood hammocks, cypress islands...

We spotted many alligators today, including one who slept happily on the path, and wouldn't be moved until our guide walked toward it, bumping a big stick on the ground. It lazily got up and slunk into nearby water.  We also saw a momma 'gator and four babies, very cute, all sunning together.




There were the beautiful birds we now know by name — anhingas and double-crested cormorants, turkey buzzards and rosate spoonbills — all active in the early hour.



Our tour guide gave us a lot of information, things we hadn't yet learned, and she was a hoot to boot — really a fun trek.




We were brought to a tower measuring only sixty feet, and yet we could see for miles and miles the terrain of the 'Glades. To New Englanders, accustomed to huge sea-crags and truly massive mountains, this is so strange. We have to climb very high indeed to view that same amount of distance in Maine!



From here, we went on to the Park's Gulf Coast area in Everglades City, and boarded a sightseeing boat, which took us into the Gulf for "a two-hour tour."

This is in Florida's Thousand Islands area, and what appears from shore to be an unbroken line of land, becomes, as you approach by water, hundreds of small islands, mostly made up of mangrove trees.



The delight of the day was watching dolphins cavorting nearby, and doing a "circle dance" to confuse the fish, then slapping the water with their tales to stun them. We also saw manatees bumbling about just beside the boat. In the photo to the right, you can see just the manatee's nose breaking the surface of the water.


Of course there were many of the beautiful birds in the trees, including many ospreys sitting on nests, cormorants, egrets, and herons.  A relaxing way to see the "last habitat" of the Everglades.




We are now officially on our way back north, and will be home in about a week.  Although we're tired, we are savoring each moment we have in Florida.  A few more adventures, and then we'll have a long stretch to "rest up from vacation" when we're back in Maine.



Note: Click any photograph in this blog, and it will show you an enlarged version of itself in a new window.

A nice, quiet Friday: Everglades II

A nice, quiet Friday, with nothing more in mind as we arose, than to take a few gentle hikes, grill some steak, and lounge about the campsite. An oh yes, watch out for alligators.

We saw more of the terrain of the Everglades, beginning with a walk taking us into the expanses of sawgrass that dominate the landscape here.

We really expected that the sawgrass would be steeped in swamp, or mire, but that's not the case at all.  Because this is winter, the dry season, there is very little water here right now, mostly concentrated in small areas, and ponds.  Yet everywhere one looks, it's clear by the appearance of the sawgrass that water HAS moved here, and it will again when the summer rains return.

We also hiked into a mahogany hammock.

Hammocks are small islands of hardwood trees that occur due to slight rises of elevation — as I've mentioned, elevation changes of less than a foot can curry in completely unique landscape changes here.

Hardwoods require enough dry land for their roots to establish themselves, so they tend to thrive on the highest points of land, which is why they are sometimes referred to as the "Everglades' mountains."  And only about six feet high!

The mahoganies here are ancient and interwoven, sometimes serving as "nurse trees" to the bromeliads, figs, and other flora that settle and grow in its branches.

Our final hike took us through a grove of mangroves — this was a boardwalked area, as mangroves grow in water.  They are so odd with their prop roots like spindly legs keeping the upper part of the tree out of the water. It's through those roots that the tree "drinks."

What's intriguing is the diversity of habitat that changes so abruptly, and so decidedly, with the slightest elevation changes. It becomes predictable the more we walk over this terrain. We just don't see such dramatic distinctions in our part of the States. In Maine, it all just feels like "woods."

Alligators & Birds: Everglades I

When we first considered a trip to Florida, it was the thought of seeing the Everglades that we found most compelling.  Little did we know that we'd fall in love with Florida in toto, but we are not disappointed by the beauty of these low water-and-grassways. The Everglades' landscape is mysterious, and surprisingly changeable.  At its highest, the land here is no more than eight feet above sea level, and even the slightest shift in elevation brings definite changes in habitat.

Campsites here at the National Park are rugged — no hookups, so we are "boondocking," that is, providing our own water (we filled our tanks at the last campsite), and the energy our Tin Hut's 12-volt system can manage (lights, our small fridge, the water pump, and heat, which isn't needed here, given that we sleep with all the windows open!). Surprisingly, the system powers my computer, altho' there's no Internet connection here. But we're delighted to be able to watch DVD's some evenings on the computer screen. Every once in awhile, Dave takes an hour or so to pump up the Airstream's voltage with a small, quiet generator. Poor us, camping without all the amenities. But we're resolved to carry on.

There are alligators in the Everglades. A LOT of them. Bizarre enough to see them slithering through water, and downright hair-raising to step out of one's car and realize one is lounging about 8 feet away, just beside a picnic table!

They look menacingly prehistoric, with their spiky tails, webbed feet, and jagged protruding lower teeth.  They lounge about a lot, but then creepily get onto their feet and move along, all the people in the area, of course, giving them a wide berth.  We've been told to stay at least 15 feet away from them at all times, as they can apparently move much more quickly than one would expect.

We've also seen crocodiles here, not nearly as numerous as the 'gators, and they are different, with narrower snouts, and a grayer color.   This is the only place in the world where crocs and alligators co-exist.

The birds here are plentiful and beautiful.  My favorites are the lovely roseate spoonbills — when these fly, they create a big sweep of pink as the sun hits their wings — gorgeous.

It was raining this first day we hiked in the park (you can see the rain in some of the photographs), but that didn't stop us from enjoying sights. And it didn't seem to disturb the wildlife a bit. We saw wood storks, egrets, herons, ospreys, and many other varieties, including the clownish grackles who swept down to gather the potato chips the wind had taken while we were eating at our picnic table.

We got a kick out of the Park's anhingas, who don't seem a bit perturbed by the presence of alligators, or humans, for that matter. They charmed us by sitting for long stretches with their wings wide open, gently fanning them back and forth to dry. They allowed us to get very close as they sat in these wing-stretched postures. The anhingas swim underwater to fish. When they catch one, they surface and flip the fish into the air — and down their throat.

Also surprising and funny is the behavior of some of the fish here, as they "flip" themselves repeatedly out of the water.  As one looks out over a pond, or even the Florida bay, there are constant fish acrobatics going on.  I asked a ranger if they were jumping for insects, and he said yes, and also that "fish just like frolicking."  

There are Florida panthers in the Park, but my understanding is that they are rarely seen.  They are near extinction, with fewer than ten in the area.  It's very strange to be driving down the road, and see "Panther Crossing" signs!

There are also rattlesnakes, cottonmouths, and other poisonous snakes, which we hope not to encounter.

The paths here are well-kept and clear, often providing high boardwalks to protect one's legs from soggy marshes, and one's toesies from 'gators.

There is real diversity of vegetation here, too. The impressive Gumbo Limbo tree has beautiful red bark, and we've learned that its resin provides an antidote for poisonwood rashes.

 

There are also slash pines, a subtropical variety, and the largest remaining stand of them in Florida.

Sawgrass fills the marshes, and on close inspection, one sees how it got its name — the fronds have tiny saw-blade edges, which are very strong and sharp. There are other vegetative features here that we'll explore more closely in tomorrow's hikes.

Sunset brought clearing skies, and for now, we are deservedly sleepy after a big hiking day.  To bed!  With the windows open.

Note: Click any photograph in this blog, and it will show you an enlarged version of itself in a new window.

To The River of Grass

A dark, rainy travel day brought us from the Keys to The Everglades.

To those of you who follow this blog, our apologies for disappearing. Between fighting Poisonwood rash and eating everything in sight, we got behind in the Keys, and Verizon let us down in the Everglades.

All those guys you see in the ads following your Verizon wireless device and providing the excellent network connection? They're afraid to get their feet wet. We had no Verizon service in The Everglades National Park. But, in the interest of fairness, we have to mention that Jacquie's new (AT&T) iPhone worked flawlessly from our campsite at the Everglades Flamingo Campground.