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Trip11

Wednesday. Moving day.Last night’s low was fifty-nine degrees. Still closer to Fidel than to Jeb.We’ve been at this KOA for three nights. Not very good luck with neighbors. We have reservations for the KOA fifty miles up the road at Fiesta Key. Thought we’d try that one, but someone recommended we look at a different place first. We drove down the highway from mile marker 20 to mile marker 14, and found the Blue Water Key RV Resort. Now this is very nice (pictures). We called and cancelled our reservations at Fiesta Key. These are all privately owned lots that the park will rent out while the owners aren’t here. We have encountered parks with length restrictions before, but this is the first one we’ve stayed at that has a minimum length: twenty-six feet. Only big motorhomes. Only full hookups. Eighty sites. Wide lots. Waterfront sites. Canal sites. Tiki huts. Private docks. Lots of rules, but they’re all about being considerate of the park and considerate of your neighbors. Rules we can live with. No monthly rates. If you want to stay here a month, it costs three thousand dollars. It reminds us of the condos at Wailea on Maui. Not the kind of place we could afford to buy, but we can afford to visit for a few days.We put the pets out on leashes and let them hang out outside for a while. The cat loves it. He rolls around in the dirt, on the asphalt, in the grass. Annie is such a mommy’s dog, she can’t stand to be anywhere without Judy. If Judy is not there, the only place Annie wants to be is on the back of the couch, watching for Mom’s return. Rags is content to stretch and roll around outside for hours, until he has to get back inside to the cat box. We had left the door to the motorhome open. Annie was still on her leash, but on the back of the couch, inside. Rags was inside as well, but with his front end inside the cat box, straining against the leash to get his rear-end into the cat box as well. I think it was good that I noticed this and unhooked him.We brothers had a conversation a while back, wondering if the Banks power packs were available yet for the Chevy V-10. A new Endeavor parked next to us, with a Banks Power sticker on the side, right above the V-10 emblem. I guess they’re ready.Fifty years of Pepsi! After fifty years of drinking Pepsi, I’ve finally burned out. Years ago I had to switch away from the sugar of regular Pepsi and adapt to diet Pepsi. It wasn’t easy, but I wanted my Pepsi, so I persevered. Several weeks ago, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t stand the thought of any more nutra-death aftertaste. Pepsi may be out of my diet for good. I miss it. I don’t want it, but I still miss it. I haven’t figured out what to replace it with yet. Something with no sugar and no artificial-sweetener-after-taste.Saw palm warblers and a merlin. I’m having trouble figuring some of the birds out, but I describe them to Judy and she looks them up and tells me what they are. Together, we make a pretty good birder.Six miles on the motorhome. Two new birds. Motorhome moving. Private dock sitting. Club sandwich for lunch. Lobster for dinner. Not a bad day.I think we’ll do it again tomorrow.
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Trip10

Tuesday.

The low last night was fifty-eight. Still closer to Havana than we are to Miami. We’re staying at an awesome KOA, but it is still a KOA campground. Space is at a premium here. Nobody gets to be wide-side against the beach. We got a premium spot, but we’re all lined up end-against-the-beach. It’s a beautiful place, but everyone has very close neighbors. I think I’d rather be in a State Park. There are three State Parks in the Keys, but none of them allow pets. Spent the day checking out the State Parks. They still don’t allow pets. Found a great beach on one. Ran the length of it. Laid on it. Walked it. Birded it. Spent hours there. Saw black bellied plovers, wilsons plovers, short billed dowitchers, and a little blue heron. Saw sea ospreys. One had a fish. Saw a giant flock of buzzing chattering tree swallows. A response from McKee makes me realize there is something I should explain about swamps. I would like to clear up some confusion I might have caused… if only I knew how. Maybe I should tell you what I don’t know. Swamps are swamps. I know that. But there are other things too. You know how the Eskimos have forty-seven words to describe snow? Or is that how many words the Japanese have to describe rice? Anyway, they have that sort of thing working down here too, only I don’t know all the different words to describe them to you. On a previous trip to New Orleans, we got to chatting with some locals in an old café, and one guy was showing us pictures of his hunting shack way out in the swamp. Except that he didn’t call it a swamp, he called it something else. I just can’t remember exactly what he called it. Swamps are deep dark places with cypress trees, clinging vines, croaking frogs, screaming bugs, and creepy noises. His hunting shack was located out in something very marshy, except that I don’t think the word he used was “marsh”. The Everglades is a swamp, but much of the Everglades is really a very slow moving river of grass, punctuated by the occasional “hammocks” of higher ground populated by trees and brush. It’s not all a river of grass. Some parts of it are a deep dark swamp. That picture of the Atchafalaya I sent? Twenty miles of open water with a few things sticking out of it? I called it a swamp, but it’s not really a swamp. I don’t know what it’s called. In Louisiana, they don’t even call it a marsh, or anything else. They just refer to it as the Atchafalaya. Here’s another picture of the Bluebonnet. We have a new modification to the motorhome. The screen door has a bunji on it. We were sitting outside last night when Rags came bounding past us, out of the dark, and disappeared into a mangrove. That screen-door-slam we had heard a few minutes earlier was from our screen door. It took a little coaxing to get him to come out of the mangrove to get caught and returned to the motorhome. When he wants to go out, and he thinks no-one is watching him, he drops down onto the bottom step, wedges himself between the step and the screen door, and pops it open. He doesn’t just squeeze it open a little and sneak out. He slams it open. It takes a strong bunji cord, and a squirt bottle with water in it to discourage him. That’s the temporary solution. Zero miles on the motorhome. Two new birds. Sun bathing on the beach. Nature trails through the mangroves. Barbecue for lunch. Got some cold water and Alka-seltzer at the grocery store. A good day.

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Trip09

Monday.

Got a good night’s sleep… with the air conditioner and fans running. Spent the day in Key West. We were here about ten years ago for an anniversary. We spent a week and loved it. Today, it’s a little cooler. Only about seventy degrees. Key West has changed somewhat. Ten years ago, people that had been coming here for years probably bemoaned how busy it was compared to how it used to be. Today, we did the same. Key West has always been famous for it’s sunsets. Mallory Square at the end of Duvall Street is the scene of an impromptu gathering every night to honor and applaud the sunset. We attended every night for a week on our previous trip. Local artisans set up. Street performers entertain. People gather and visit. It was a delight. Key West is now a cruise ship destination. Cruise ship docks have been built up all around the old town section we were so familiar with. Mallory square has been improved and expanded. An entire new “Key West” village of souvenir shops has been built up to accommodate the cruise passengers. We even saw a sign announcing the official starting time of the sunset celebration. There were three giant cruise ships in port. There were two more anchored offshore. It was very crowded. We didn’t recognize much. It didn’t feel the same. The cruise ships were actually lined up directly between Mallory Square and the point in the sea where the sun disappears. Could you have a sunset celebration, and all gather to watch the sun sink and disappear behind the cruise ship? Would that generate a spontaneous round of applause? We decided not to hang around until dark to find out. For years, we’ve recalled fondly our favorite food vendor in Key West. It’s an old bar/restaurant here called Turtle Kraals. It’s built in the remains of the old Dutch turtle processing sheds about a half-mile down the waterfront from Mallory Square. They really did have a turtle harvesting industry here once. In all these years, it never occurred to me that I might not be able to have lunch at the Turtle Kraals the next time we came. We continued to wander and look for things familiar. Lunch time arrived. We got hungry. We headed to where Turtle Kraals used to be… And it was there. It was a little cleaner and a little nicer, but it was still there. Right there overlooking the dingy parking and all the people coming and going. We had our fish and chips. Life was good. Then we went to see if the guy in the big ocean-going trimaran sailboat, that we spent so much time with ten years ago was still there by any chance. The last time here, we had been wandering the docks, and found him sitting in the cockpit of his boat, having a beer, with a handmade sign advertising “Tours”. It was a pretty casual business. He took us out for a sunset tour. The next day he took us out to some islands and paddled out in the kayak to bring us drinks of fresh water while we were out snorkeling. His name was A.D. We found him! Well we found the boat. It is an unmistakable forty-five foot gray racing trimaran. But this time, it’s owned by some company advertising eco-tours. He didn’t seem very ambitions ten years ago. He wasn’t committed to Key West. He hadn’t been there for very long, and wasn’t sure how long he was going to stay. We hung around the boat for a little while, admiring it and remembering, and someone emerged. We talked with her awhile, and it turns out she is the driving force behind the “eco-tours” movement. Her husband, A.D. still drives the boat. She explained that they’re just a little more professional in how they operate their business now. It was a fun visit. We got to recall lots of little details that took her back to their first year of operation ten years ago. We went back to Duvall Street after lunch. The crowds had thinned. It felt better. The open-air bars and restaurants were loud, but they are loud from live music. It’s more than I can take to go inside, but from out on the sidewalk, it sounds just perfect. Judy bought me an ice-cream cone. We walked and lingered and enjoyed. Here at the KOA, they always answer the phone with: “It’s a beautiful day on Sugarloaf Key”, and they’re right. We got here at seventy-one degrees. We arrived in T-shirts and shorts. The people here were wearing sweaters and long pants, and apologizing for how cold it was. We marveled at their wear, they marveled at ours. We haven’t been here long enough to acclimate yet.Here’s a picture of Annie trying to relax. Zero miles on the motorhome. No new birds. May have to get more serious about the birds tomorrow. Surely, at the bottom of Florida, this is an opportunity to see some birds we haven’t seen before.

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Trip08

Sunday.

Eight hours. We’re in charge now. On the road again. This is the last travel day for awhile. We got to drive off into a Florida foggy sunrise (picture). Another quiet day. Good roads. Easy driving. Except the toll plazas. We spent the day on the Florida turnpike. The Florida turnpike is a toll road. We don’t have much experience with toll roads in Colorado. But, if they want to build a road, then charge me to drive on it, I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t have a problem with how much they charged me either. The toll plazas weren’t especially difficult to drive through, they were just often. They stopped us to charge us a toll eight times. Eight times we paid to drive on that road. It wasn’t that big a deal, but it seems in these high-tech days, this is an extremely low-tech way to collect a few quarters. OK. For a motorhome it’s more than a few quarters, but for cars, most of the toll stops collected seventy-five cents. I saw on one exit, in between toll plazas, that it cost another twenty-five cents to get off the tollway. Every car has to stop and pay another twenty-five cents. I would think for the fuel consumption and environmental inefficiency, they ought to just wave everyone through. We end up talking to other people in campgrounds everywhere we go. In Texas, it costs seven dollars a night to stay in the campground on the beach, or you can just park on the beach for free. We have heard from other motorhomers that it is expensive to visit here in the winter. So far, it appears they’re right. You can save money at most campgrounds in other states if you’re willing to stay a month, by paying a monthly rate of three hundred dollars or so. We checked with the KOA here, and if you’re willing to commit to four months or more, you can stay for a monthly rate of fourteen hundred dollars. This mobile hookup is so cool. I have a new cellphone hooked up to my laptop. It works almost every time. It didn’t work out in the middle of Kansas. It didn’t work down in the bottom of Oklahoma by a lake, but it has worked everywhere else. It even works way out here almost all the way to Key West. I have another Florida sign to share. When you leave the rest stop, they remind you of several important things you might otherwise forget. They remind you to buckle up: “click it or ticket”. Don’t litter. Don’t drink and drive. And. Are you ready?…. Turn your wipers on when it’s raining. Really. It says that. Wait a minute! If my windshield wipers aren’t on, and it’s raining, what if I can’t see through the windshield to read the reminder? How will I know what to do?This is from the people who also brought us “hanging chads”. I love Florida. We took a walk tonight, and ended up at the campground marina. On the little island right across from the marina, maybe fifty feet away, is a giant tree, full of roosting pelicans. That works. A pelican tree. We were here and set up by three pm. Another three hundred fifty miles today. We’re twenty miles from Key West. We’ve put two thousand five hundred fifty miles on the odometer. Wow! You drive a few hundred miles every day and next thing you know you’re twenty five hundred miles from home and there aren’t any roads left to drive on. Well, nowhere else to go from here, so I guess we’ll just have to stay awhile.

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Trip07

Saturday.

Ten hours. Maybe we’re all caught up on our sleep now. It was so easy to get up this morning. An uneventful day. We stopped once for lunch and a run. That was it. The next stop, it was three thirty, and three hundred fifty miles were gone. Fast roads and easy driving. We’re still in Florida, but we’ve turned south again. The weather is getting nicer. I got to run in just a T shirt today. Wait. I didn’t mean… OK. I didn’t have to wear a sweatshirt. How can I phrase this in the positive without describing everything I was wearing? I got to run in just a T shirt today. And I wore everything else you would normally expect someone running to wear. We like Florida state parks (picture). But not all of them accept pets. We got a list of which parks are pet friendly. But even the pet friendly parks require a current shot record. Of course we didn’t bring a current shot record for each pet, but we discovered this on a Friday, so Judy called our Vet and they faxed the critical info ahead to the state park. The state park made a copy for us, and we’re set for the rest of the trip, as long as we don’t try to stay at the wrong state parks. The pets have been great companions. Annie has gone into her giant brown sleeping caterpillar routine in Judy’s lap. Rags the cat struggles a little with the motion of the motorhome at first. He hides under the couch and drools, so we give him drugs. When the drugs kick in, he just goes to sleep in the chair and he’s fine. The second day, he doesn’t usually have any problem, but this trip he needed drugs again the second day. The third day, he was fine. He was running around looking out the windows, looking perfectly comfortable, until he jumped up on the dash board in front of me, looked up, and drooled. I think he’s become a seeker. He’s a user. We figured out how to get him to stop drooling. Now we have to figure out how to get him to kick the kitty drugs. He stayed pretty smashed on the drugs during the day, but after we started to wean him from them, there was a surprise reaction. Rags has never been a particularly demonstrative cat. He wants to be wherever you are, but he wouldn’t want you to think he actually cares. It’s not like he wants to get picked up and petted. Well, what happened after we drugged him in the mornings was that by the evenings, we had a cat that was only slightly stoned, discovering that he really, really, really, really, really loves us. I mean he REALLY loves us. He loves us so much; there is just no way to get enough of us. No way to get close enough to us. We finally had to give up and lock him in the dog’s crate for the night so we could get some sleep. A three hundred fifty mile day. This sets us up for one more three hundred fifty mile day. Then there are no more miles to go. We’ll be at the southernmost KOA in the US, twenty miles from Key West. We even called ahead for reservations to make sure we had a place to stay. We can spend a couple days there while we look around and see if we want to continue to stay there, or if we want to move to someplace else. This doesn’t look like a rustic KOA in the book. It looks very nice. It has its own beach and its own marina. It is priced like it is nice. We reserved a beachfront site.