March Madness

Last night we found a secluded campsite along the Biloxi River in the DeSoto State Forest in Mississippi. But Davidson--a (very) small school in North Carolina and our daughter's alma mater--was an improbable survivor after the first two rounds of the NCAA basketball tournament, and was playing Wisconsin, and we had to see it. So after pitching our tent and rolling out our sleeping bags, we headed into Gulfport and the Lookout 49 saloon, where we enjoyed po-boys (your choice of fried seafood on French bread) and brewskis while the underdogs pulled off yet another upset! -DJN

The Five People You Meet in Campgrounds

We do meet some fascinating people on our trip. Some we give a wide berth to, and others we think about for a long time afterwards. Sometimes, both. I can still picture the war-injured Vietnam vet who is traveling across the country photographing our national forests. There was the tiny man who was tending many pots of petunias, pink and purple, outside his RV. A couple traveling with their pet had him tied to the picnic table, but he liked to climb on top. It was a goat! I especially liked the crusty old guy who used a chain saw to get his firewood just right; later I saw him playing chess with another weathered veteran camper. Perhaps my favorite was the music fan who not only played opera at full-blast, but sang it at the top of his lungs for all the campground to enjoy(?). I really liked the Mississippi shrimp boat captain, who, while not a camper, taught us more than we ever thought we'd know about commercial fishing on the Gulf coast. I feel that I lead a very sanitized life compared to many of these eccentric, interesting people. But it is one of the best parts of a trip like this, learning how wildly different this country and the people who call it home are.

Siesta Time

Another year, another visit to friends on Siesta Key, just south of Sarasota. Wonderful meals, a long walk at sunrise in the fine powder sand of a magnificent beach, and an afternoon kayaking on the canal network of the Key. Up until midnight--not exactly like us, but a great time. Thank you, Louise and Richard. -DJN

Citrus Roadkill

After three mostly non-camping weeks with J’s parents, we are once again on the road and heading west. Not too far west—halfway across central Florida on our way to Sarasota. Tonight we are in Highlands Hammock State Park, a lesser-known gem just outside Sebring, a town known more for car racing than camping. On our way here we found ourselves behind a large open truck filled with oranges, which spilled a hundred or so as it rounded a turn on Route 68 south of Yeehaw Junction (I did not make that name up). As there was no other traffic in sight, we pulled off the road and scooped up a couple of dozen and will have fresh juice in the morning!

This park has a very interesting small museum commemorating the work of the Civilian Conservation Corps, which hired young men from across the country during the Depression and put them to work building facilities such as this: roads, trails, lodges. They were paid a hefty $30 per month for their labor, of which $25 was mailed home.

As remote as we are here, we may have a situation tonight. Just east of us is the Avon Park Air Force Test Range, and we have seen—and heard—a number of military jets zoom overhead in that direction. But we are watching a beautiful sunset, Judy is building her usual campfire, and our air mattress has yet to spring a leak, so all’s well. -DJN

Alliteration Nation

Last year we wrote about the endless miles of Florida entrepreneurs whose shops had the funniest names, from the Soap Opera Laundry to Mustard's Last Stand. Now I have noticed that many of these businesses hope customers might be lured by their use of that poetic device, alliteration. As early as Georgia I noted Laundry Land and Wheeler's Warehouse. Florida is the champion with Cocoa Kayakers, Yuppy Puppy, Accurate Archery, Roses R Red, and Chopper Dropper. Doug could spend a day eating his way from the Pita Pit to Huddle House to the Mighty Mushroom. I am hoping we don't have to patronize Collision Crafters, Slug a Bug or Paragon Plumbing. And nobody in this house is allowed to spend a dime at Phantom Fireworks or, God help us, Bare Assets Adult Entertainment (no alliteration, but worth mentioning). If they do, Mom and I will send them off to Resurrection Ranch. Wishing you an Easy Easter!

Stoopit Tolls

Florida may have palm trees, grapefruit, Disney, spring training, and miles of beautiful beaches, but it also has the dumbest toll road system in the universe. Many of the exits have just EXACT CHANGE and SUNPASS ONLY lanes--no real person in a toll booth. And you don't know this (not that you'd do anything different) as you exit the highway.
So what to do if you have two credit cards, sufficient currency and traveler's checks for three months on the road, but only a dime, two nickels and six pennies and the toll is 50 cents (exact)? Duh. And the buzzer goes off and a bright yellow light spins around and presumably the State of Florida takes a snapshot of your rear license plate. And when you find the right phone number to call to ask what you can do to avoid the "$100 FINE FOR TOLL EVADERS," you're told by a sweet 20-something with a southern accent to wait for a bill in the mail and send a check for the amount of the toll.

Next stop.... Alabama. -DJN

Bingo

If you get nothing else out of this blog, you should benefit from the following advice I received today. When your computer gives you a message saying it no longer recognizes the device (your digital camera), it is (past) time to think about giving your camera’s memory card a good wash. Now, many of you might be chuckling to yourselves, thinking what kind of numbskull is she that she never formatted her memory card. But I am willing to bet my rusty nail collection that there are several friends who, like me, had no idea this was something I should have been tending to periodically. So, after buying a card reader that allowed us to move the photos from the card to the computer, we were ready to start fixing the card. Here is how it worked on mine; perhaps it will help you. Turn on camera. Set to “picture taking mode.” Choose “menu,” then “tools.” Scroll down till you see the option to “format.” Then do it! I was given the analogy that even though we remove pictures from the camera each time we download, there is still the layer of images, like chalk dust on an erased blackboard. By formatting, we are giving the board, or card, a hose down. That’ll be fifty cents, please. These camera pros were so helpful, that upon commenting on some great wildlife shots on display, we followed their directions to nearby wetlands. There we enjoyed a great bike ride complete with gators (I won the “who ever sees one first is the winner” contest), otter, ospreys, and ibises, gallinules and herons galore. ps-Despite the smiling face, I have NOT won a single cent at bingo yet!

Back to the future

Shortly after my father graduated from college in 1938, he took a job with General Motors and joined the Parade of Progress, a traveling road show of twelve Futurliners (the 'e' was dropped for trademark purposes) designed to show the wonders of GM automotive engineering during the pre-television age.

These red and chrome behemoths each weighed thirteen tons and carried a driver--in a single center seat--and two team members directly behind him in an aircraft-like cabin sixteen feet above the pavement. On arriving in a town, the twelve Futurliners would circle like wagons in a city park, usually around current GM models on loan from local dealers. Large panels on either side opened to reveal displays of futuristic themes--focused, one suspects, on GM's role in them.

Though his days with the Parade ended with Pearl Harbor, he often talked about 'his days on the caravan'--throughout the U.S, Mexico, and even a trip to Havana. Until today, however, I had never seen one, but a photo in the weekend section of the local paper showed fully restored Futurliner No. 10 currently on exhibit at an auto show here in Melbourne.

I even got to climb the stairs and sit in the driver's seat. Way cool. -DJN

Rambling

So sorry that we have deserted our faithful readers! All two of you. "Bugs" have assaulted us - our bodies (viruses), our camera (is not recognized by the computer anymore) and our computer (connection problems). The bodies are recovered, and once we solve the techno glitches, I will communicate more frequently and hit you with some Bingo photos! Nevertheless, we have been busy and here is what's been going on. Wendy and Claire were here last weekend and it was lovely to have four generations of women together. We walked, swung, strolled, swam, laughed and talked. And ate - one of us is addicted to Cheerios.

Doug and I took off for a few days of camping in the Ocala National Forest where we had such a good time last year. This time we stayed in a small, uncrowded campground at Clearwater Lake. No Disney folks here; just people fishing, playing chess, building wood fires, and hiking. Nearby Mt. Dora is a gorgeous area for biking and we took advantage of the lakeshore road to pedal all the way to Taveres. I love going along a railroad track where the trains still run and you can smell the honeysuckle and orange blossoms for miles. It was just lovely. So many lakes in this part of Florida! Very early one morning we walked the Lake George trail at Silver Glen Springs and were treated to the sight of several bald eagles perched right above our heads. The path was covered by huge trees drooping masses of Spanish moss; warblers, ibises, herons, kingfishers and pileated woodpeckers were the only sounds we heard. It was a favorite!

Doing Lunch

Just before noon today, along the marshy bank of the Indian River in Florida, we watched as a great blue heron (not very visible in front of the rocks in the center of the photo) caught, killed, and ate—in one huge gulp—a not-very-small but very unfortunate rat. We often see these patient hunters standing in the shallows, stock-still, waiting for a small fish to swim into view, and then spearing it with a lightning-fast jab of their pointed bill... but never anyone from the rodent food group.
It was an extraordinary sight. Without going into unnecessary (as in ‘gross’) detail, it took a while for the heron to figure out how to swallow its catch. When it did, the bulge was clearly visible going down the heron’s long, curved neck.
I’m pretty sure I involuntarily shivered when it was over. And wasn’t quite as hungry as I might have been for a while afterwards. -DJN

This Blogger Is a Fraud!

Not a total fraud, but I must come clean. That little map on the sidebar has been giving me fits. So, while we were in Maryland last week, Tom tried to teach me the ins and outs of creating a personal Google map, using those little thumbtacks, and drawing lines. I have mastered thumbtacks and lines, but putting those little photos of places on the thumbtacks has stumped me. So Tom has taken to just fixing my online messes. It is always a surprise to see what I have created overnight!
PS - When I showed my dad this picture, he said "Who is the fat old man on the right?" Can you believe it?!

Alligator mississipiensis

Ocala National Forest is a wonderful gem that we visited last year. This week we pulled out of the Christian Motorcyclers Association entourage at Salt Springs and took a short hike to one of the lakes that have formed along the St. John's River. Bird Nerds that we are, we were lucky to hear and see a pileated woodpecker (Doug thinks it was the extinct ivory-billed), as well as the threatened, but no longer endangered alligator. Did you know these guys date back 150 million years, having outlived the dinosaurs by a long shot? As scary as they are, I-95 was a lot more intimidating as we completed the last 50 miles to Palm Bay.

Okefenokee

I had high hopes for the swamp area of southern Georgia. And we may have missed the true swamp experience by passing up an opportunity to drive deep into the bogs and muck of this unique part of the country. Nevertheless, we camped at the northern end of the Okefenokee Swamp at Laura S Walker State Park and had a very pleasant, but not especially thrilling stay. It was just, well, boring. The weather was fine, the campground was adequate, and we slept like logs from 7 to 6. So, who am I to complain? We just didn't see much in the way of wildlife and we were the ONLY tent campers in a sea of RVs! Our neighbors were two cowboys bound for Daytona's Bike Week and "Velda & Lucy Ho" in their '50s trailer. So, on to Florida.