Blunder

Guess we shouldn't have had Gordon clean that spaghetti sauce pan for us. All good though, thanks to the wonder of 'Dawn'. Cleans oil soaked feathers and Labradoodle's beards. Campsite in St. Augustine is great...KOA would have five units crammed in here.

The Cast for Steve Beeching Scorcese's Movie of our trip

If you have read recent comments you will know how this applies. You will also be aware Sir John as Gordon is glaringly missing.  The pictures are being posted at Mr. Susan-Steve Beeching-Scorcese" request.

Top signs Mark might have had enough camping

1. Calls all kids he sees "dirty".

2. Thinks camp host is "loony"  (might be right)

3.Bathroom beyond 200 paces=new found appreciation of nature.

4. Forced to unearth and assemble long ago purchased "Fold and Go" port a pottie for lovely bride. (See #3.) Complete with the "Double Doodie Bag."

5. Wants to acquire rights to above device and market as follows:       
     "There is No Commode Like the Lock and Load!"

6. Waxing nostalgic for Happy Hour at the Pirate's Cove.
 
7. Baked potatoes in the fire WITHOUT PIERCING!!!

2 KOA pictures: 1 state camp site. you guess which one!

Sugarloaf KOA

Our first and last foray into private camping accommodations---more appropriately titled Bromley-Heath KOA.

Of course we pretty much guaranteed ourselves the absolute WORST of the 327 "campsites"---parking spaces would be more accurate,not that you could park your car AND your camper in the allotted real estate---by showing up with neither full body ink, nor a wardrobe featuring the Harley Davidson collection  exclusively.

Mark didn't help our cause either, by not toting along some motorized toy to spend all day tinkering with, dressed in motorcycle boots and the above mentioned HD shorts. (No shirt required,the better to display ones tats and ample girth. Some of these guys stomachs were bigger than our campsite.)

This place also featured its own on site bar. I slipped in for last call (Mark and Gordon were in the trailer attempting to will themselves elsewhere in their minds) and witnessed a near riot. The patrons released their frustration at this horrific event by hurling themselves fully dressed into the swimming pool, which also closes at 10pm, before trundling off to their cheek by jowl (literally) 5th wheels and calling it a day.

Mark and I figured out that this place is hauling in over thirty thousand dollars a DAY. "Your dog's gonna LOVE it here!" gushed the guy who took our $85 for the night. Um...no, I don't think so.

The Keys,Old Photo Edition

Mark and I had done the Keys before with the kids in 2003. This time I had notions of exploring the byways. Trouble is, there ARE no byways. US 1 is a constant, humming stream, and you really need to maintain the speed limit, no gawking,dillying or dallying allowed. And after about the 3rd time you've decided to take a random left just to see what's down there, only to end up at a "no outlet, no turn around"spot with trailer attached, your spirit of exploration wanes.

The keys works hard at presenting an "island" mentality, and in many ways it does remind me of Venezuela. There,(30 years ago) one would constantly hear the phrase "NO HAY", which literally means "there isn't any", but which actually was a universal rebuff which translated  to "I can't be bothered to help you". We got a lot of NO HAY in the Keys, from the "whaddya gonna do" shrug of the desk clerk about the non-working WIFI in our $200 a night room, to the oft encountered "Your question, although succinct and direct, indicates a northern impatience for which I will punish you by offering a hazy and confusing non-response" attitude. Now that I am writing this, I realize that the keys are passive-aggressive.

That said, I would return, especially early in the winter, only for THE HEAT. Which was mahvelous.

For those not encumbered with a dog and a trailer, nor dealing with the presidents day holiday, we did discover some recommendable places: SHARKEY'S PUB in Key Largo, behind from which all the dive/snorkel boats leave for the reef; HOLIDAY ISLE, a hotel/marina with a couple of Beachcomber type bars and a beach; ANNE'S BEACH in Islamorada, and SOMBRERO BEACH in Marathon,along with a little area called COCO PLUM, also in Marathon.

If you're looking for beaches, (and you will have to look,they are few) the best bet would be to pay the day use fee at either LONG KEY or BAHIA HONDA State Parks. Both were forbidden to us because of Gordon, but are excellent.

Of course there are also the uber pricey places, Checca Lodge in Islamorada for the fishy set, and Hawkes Key ($465/night on hotels.com when we checked). But if they are out of your price range too,you can while away quite a bit of time in the ubiquitous TIKI BARS. Happy hour is alive and well in Florida.

Just don't go to the keys without a reservation, lest you end up in...

To The Keys

     When last we blogged, good buddy 'Detroit' was headed north to---hahaha---DISNEY WORLD to---hahaha---PLAY GOLF, (would have loved to have been a little bird on THAT foursome!) and FISH (oh whoops...)
 
 Never did get to ask him,per my brother Christopher's request, for those tips on Ford stock (buy the preferred,short the common?)

 Accordingly,we headed south. This being our second pass through this area, we skipped a lot, but for those of you wondering "Where should I go in Florida?" let me say this:

Sarasota seems to be THE city in Florida if you desire a modicum of culture (not that I do):a good symphony,resident ballet and opera, a bit of jazz and art scenes. Like most of Florida cities however, the beach areas are separated from the city proper by annoying stretches of mall and causeway laden roads---(Miami /Miami Beach, St. Pete/St. Pete Beach, Fort Meyers,Fort Meyers Beach). As far as beach locales in this neighborhood, I would recommend CASEY KEY (mostly high end private residential,but with the occasional small hotel ) or the lower end of SIESTA KEY.
  
By the way, no matter how ardent a Sox fan you are, I can't recommend Fort Meyers or the even seedier Fort Meyers Beach. Unless Hooters is your thing.

SANIBEL and CAPTIVA are accessed from Fort Meyers, as MARCO ISLAND is from Naples. Didn't care for any of the 3, although Naples itself seemed nice enough, and has a nice beach area just north of it at BONITA BEACH.

This time around we stopped in Collier Seminole St. Park (a big NO for camping) just south of Naples. Then in the morning we made a short side trip to EVERGLADES CITY,the last outpost of civilization before Rt. 41 crosses Florida through EVERGLADES NATIONAL PARK.

I'd always thought of the Everglades as a swampy place, and although that is true over on the east side where Florida Bay and Biscayne Bay meet, the west side has a lot of very arid grassland. Anyone camping in the Federal Campgrounds along this stretch is looking for some hard-core solitude. Rt.41 passed eventually through an Indian Reservation (Surprise! Casinos!) and then mile upon mile of nurseries,  (obviously supplying the entire state with landscaping materials) before landing us in Key Largo.

Coming up: The Keys,Old Photo Edition and Our Night in a KOA.

THE BIG NOOGIE, wherein an APB is issued for Mark and Gordon.

     Last year when we embarked on these camping adventures,my brother Bud asked "aren't there a lot of 'drifters' in these campgrounds?" Hardy-har we pooh poohed. Considering that the cost of the average "rig"you see around you is somewhere north of the 100K mark--(we're definitely holding up the very low end of the spectrum here) well,"drifters" not so much. But insane people??? Hoo boy.
     Yesterday afternoon Mark and I loaded up our Backpack/beach chairs with cocktail fixins and headed for the sunnier,windless side of the campground. We hadn't staked out our spot for longer than 30 seconds before this guy, (whom we'll call "Detroit") arrives. Seems that he's going to fish. There. Only there. Not 10 feet away. Just there.
      Ok,we're friendly people, and given the lack of alternative, we spend the next 90 minutes or so chatting with him about,randomly, sports,fishing,dogs,Cape Cod, and of course his marriage into "the Ford Family". And despite a disconcerting lack of teeth, (must have been the dentally challenged side of the Ford Family) "Detroit" was amusing in his own way.
      We watched him struggle into his waders and waddle out into the water. (I made a mental note right then that I was NOT going into the water after him when he toppled sideways and said waders filled with water. NOT.) Then he emerged and proceeded to show us an entire hockey bag full of fishing gear -about a thousand bucks worth-he'd gotten from his brother , before snagging the mesh pocket of his tres expensive Cabella's fishing vest with a treble hooked lure. We watched as he "removed" it by shredding it to ribbons with a 12" fillet knife. Since the cocktails were now gone, and the comedy (good as it was) was wearing thin, (knives of that size in the hands of lunatics can have that dampering effect) the next time he lumbered into the water, we packed up and left.
     Flash forward to this morning. Mark and I had packed up our whole operation to move to a waterfront location that had become available. We had about an hour to kill, so we took Gordon up to the dog park, then came back and were blithely completing the move. Next thing we knew, a sheriff's cruiser ( not a park ranger, a real cop) was pulling up our little drive.
     It seems that someone had pinched "Detroit's" fishing bag while he was out in the water, and according to him, that someone was Mark. Unfortunately for him, despite our lengthy banter, all he could recall about us was "a guy with a beard and a yellow dog wearing a red harness."
     Seems like whilst we were busy beavering with the packing, campers over in the vicinity of the crime were being asked if that description rang any bells. Seems also that while we were at the dog park, one of these busybodies (er, campers) recognized the felonious duo, wrote down our plate #, and called the sheriff.
     Said lawman was just beginning to explain the situation to us when Detroit himself burst upon the scene screaming "I'M FROM DETROIT AND I"M NOT STUPID!!!" O-kaay.
     The sheriff ordered him away, and Mark and I volunteered to submit to a complete search of our truck and camper. "I HATE fishing!" bleated Mark .
     At this point I must interject the following: Dear Daughter-Who-Is-Very-Soon-To Be-A-Lawyer: Yes we know we participated in a trampling of our rights. Utter violation. STIFLE. Love you,Mom and Dad.
      After the search turned up nothing,("You guys have a lot of dog food" said the sheriff) Mark made the sheriff stay till Detroit pulled out--(did I mention he was a somewhat hefty maniac?). Then we gave ourselves a big noogie like you do when things are so mind numbingly nonsensical that you think you need a jump start, locked the trailer, and went to the beach.

Addendum to the tale: When we got back from the beach we got a profuse apology from the Rangers (still trying to figure a parlay) along with the news that Detroit had returned to their office in such an abusive threatening state,(continually reiterating his origins,the significance of which had them as baffled as we) that they had to call out the Sheriff again. Word is, the tazar was drawn before he desisted.
     
     Take care of your teeth kids, they seem integrally connected to the brain. I flossed for at least 10 minutes last night.



    

Old Folks at Home

Well,not home exactly. Woke up Superbowl Monday in the hotel in NOLA and inundated ourselves with the Weather Chanel. The plan had been to mosey westward in Louisiana, exploring Cajun country a bit; slide on into Texas dipping a farewell toe in the Gulf at Galveston, camp somewhere east of Houston, then spend some Hotel money checking out Austin and San Antonio. From there we planned to hit the National Park at Big Bend,and follow the Rio Grand up to El Paso and into New Mexico. All of this was to have taken at least a week. Thus we were more than dismayed to see predictions of another full week or more of sub freezing temps in Texas, (all the way South to Brownsville) complete with footage of somebody doing double axles on their figure skates right on their street. This is where the Old Folks part comes in. To make it short and bitter, we bailed. Having not yet divested ourselves of our winter parkas,hats or gloves on this trip, we couldn't deal with more of the same,potentially into Arizona. Not to mention the prospect of pulling a trailer across an ice glazed State of Texas, surrounded by total neophytes in the winter driving game.
     Ah to be 20 something and clueless, when going camping meant maybe bringing a sheet. Period.
 Thus we find ourselves in Florida once again. APOLOGY TO ALL RESIDENTS, AND YOU MUSICIAN FRIENDS WHO WAIT ALL YEAR FOR THAT SARASOTA OPERA GIG. We take full ownership of the curse. Sorry.
      Backtracked across Mississippi on 10, and spent our first night at Falling Waters State Park in Chipley Fla., home of (you guessed it)

Florida's highest WATERFALL!,atop their highest hill (elevation 324 ft.). Moved last night to the Stephen Foster Folk Cultural Center,in White Springs,just South of Valdosta Georgia,on the Suwannee River. This place had a carillon tower (just like Andover) that plays Foster's music daily as well as a resident blacksmith doing demonstrations, the Stephen Foster Museum, and of course,gift shop.It also had something called "Nelly Bly Restaurant and Restroom". Having Wikipedia-ed Nelly Bly,I can't for the life of me fathom what she had to do with Stephen Foster,nor why she deserves her own restroom,but there you have it.
      Tonight we are in Rainbow Springs State Park. Years ago my father bought a lot near here from a business associate who created the Citrus Hills development, "endorsed" by Ted Williams. Being an ocean guy, my Dad never built here, and despite the area actually being very beautiful, we too are moving Southward and Coastward.
     Blog entries henceforth will probably be minimal--the been there done that syndrome. There are only so many Fat Families you can mock (last night's aggregate 1125 lbs,and 3 of them were under 16) before it ceases to amuse. But if I run across anything as exciting as Nelly Bly's Restroom again, I'll keep you posted.

New Orleansnny

It was great having Maeve (Tulane 3L) serve as our tour guide;really sped up the learning curve on where to go,where to park,what to see. Found a reasonable hotel downtown,the Drury Great room,Easy in and out parking for $17,pool/hot tub/fitness on the roof, (not utilized,what a surprise) GOOD free breakfast, and 3 free drinks a person from 5-7. (Also not utilized, REALLY a surprise!) Left the trailer at the state park for Sat. and Sun---at $16 a night, it was a cheap parking spot. We did spy an "RV Camping" area in the shadow of the superdome from the elevated highway above, but clearly you would have needed your own bathroom...and your own gun.
      Sat. was the french quarter. Caught some break dancer/comedy guys at Jackson square,and then checked out the line for beignets at the Cafe du Monde. It was onerous, so we ducked into the first bar for a Bloody Mary to go. The french quarter is about 100 square blocks,mobbed with people, and EVERYBODY is carrying a drink. A lot seemed to opt for these neon green containers called hand grenades,but fearful of the sugar content/hangover potential, we stuck with the bloodies. They are made with these pickled green beans for garnish. If I had found a jar of these for sale,I'd have been all over it. Delicious. Speaking of (unspeakably) sweet, I did buy a praline...
      Since Gordon was with us,we headed to a little hole in the wall called Johnny Whites.Seriously dog friendly...check out their website. The bartender there,in appreciation of our buying a couple of their rescue dog calendars made a call and got us a place where we could have dinner indoors with Gordon,rather than outside in the 30 degrees below normal temps.
      Sun. was warmer and the 3 of us returned to the quarter just to stroll...(no drinks this time!) Watched the Superbowl uptown by Maeve's apt. outside in a courtyard with a big fire and a lot of those propane heater things,drinking the local Abita Amber. The Saint's fans seemed to be watching with the same desultory (What happened???) interest as ourselves.
    Between trips up to Maeve's through the garden district,our wanderings in the quarter, and our trips in from the campground through the devastated 9th ward, we really got to see a lot of the city, but felt that there was tons more we couldn't get to...the zoo, museums, some of the ubiquitous seriously high quality music, the 26 mile bridge across Lake Pontrachain, and of course, a Swamp Tour.

Couple of OOPS

Settled into a St. Park about 1/2 hr southeast of the city on Thursday afternoon and departed a couple hours later to meet friends Carol and Maeve. Having come the scenic route from Mississippi, we were even more dependent than usual on "Samantha" to bring us to the address. OOPS. Turns out the straightest line route she favors involved not one,but two ferries. Took the 1st one in our stride,having encountered an unexpected ferry ride last year in Florida,but were pretty flummoxed to find ourselves at the 2nd-CLOSED-terminal. Solution:head toward that big bridge to ? that you see to the right, and let her recalculate herself ad nauseum. Lesson: GPS is not to be relied on in big cities. Did get a nice shot of the GPS showing the car floating in the Mississippi though. And Gordon was pretty freaked out to feel the car move sideways.
      After dinner and drinks we headed back,going about 4 extra exits east on the highway just to stay away from the remotest possibility of being sent to a ferry. The rain,which had held off in favor of gloomy rawness began in earnest as we entered the campground. These parks close their gates in the nights, and most of them have a keypad thingy...this one had 2 padlocks.20 soaking minutes later,having tried every dyslexic forwards backwards sideways version of 0211 possible,we abandoned the truck at the gate and slogged in to the campground. Here's Mark's conversation with the ranger the next morning:
     Mark: Hey you gave us the wrong combination!
     Ranger: Are YOU the one who cut the chain??
    Mark: Would I have left my truck here and walked 1/2 mile in the pouring rain if I was the one to cut the chain? And then come here to confess?
   Ranger: Sometimes they jam.
Lesson: How much are those bolt cutter thingies?

Getting to New Orleans

Have been sleeping in the trailer,but not really camping due to freezing temps and rain. First stop was just outside of Birmingham, then we turned more directly south through Montgomery and spent a night on Mobile Bay. Thought about taking in some of the memorials to the civil rights struggle, but hauling a trailer and a dog makes along-the-way stops somewhat challenging. From Mobile we followed the coastal route through Biloxi (surprisingly nice despite the casinos) Gulfport and Longbeach. The amount of stuff listed in my Insight Guide (procured at the Wellfleet Library Sale for 50 cents,and "updated" in 2004) that is no longer there is testament to the damages of Katrina and the storm that followed...including 3/4 of the campground in Waveland Mississippi we'd planned to spend Thurs night. Also notable along this drive were billboard after billboard offering legal assistance to "manage your claim against BP"...the Gulf Coast equivalent of James Sokolove.
     Speaking of old books,the laundry rooms of these campgrounds serve as the book exchange. Today's offerings: "Man of the Mist" and "The Girl Most Likely To". Brattle St. Books it is not.

Deja No-Vu

     When it comes to waterfalls, Mark and I have a somewhat spotted history. We lived in Venezuela for two years,and never made the trip to see Angel Falls,the world's largest (in vertical drop). Similarly,we raised even our own eyebrows last spring by blithely turning right at Buffalo,and ignoring the siren call of Niagara.
      On the other side of the coin,when in St. Lucia (the South Bronx of the Caribbean-beware!) we fell prey to some cascade near the sulfurous "Drive thru Volcano" that sold itself as a treasure,complete with natural hot springs. That one turned out to be a couple of fetid bacteria laden cement ponds and a trickle of water splashing down onto a discarded tire.
      So yesterday,on the road from Knoxville,we were beset by signage touting RUBY FALLS!, the frequency and insistent nature of which put that for JR's cheap cigs and Nascarwear to shame. Once we dismissed Mark's notion that it was advertising for a housing development----like "Draper Estates",we were hooked. One sign even proclaimed this place to be one of the top 10 Natural Wonders of the World.
       Of course we were a bit skeptical nonetheless---these signs, all 100 miles of them, were screaming red in color; "BREATHTAKING", not the drab brown and white that signify a bonafide Federal/State sponsored natural or historic attraction. But these misgivings were overcome by the realization that we were in line for a twofer: ROCK CITY was right next door.
     Well,to cut to the chase, RUBY FALLS! turns out to be an underground waterfall plumetting into a rather theatrically lit cave. Adult admission,$16.99. (Shades of Howe's Cavern,near Albany NY)  We passed. ROCK CITY was further up Lookout Mountain,and by further up I mean well above the ceiling of the densest fog I've ever been in (this coming from a Cape Codder). We didn't see the 7 state view,or any rock formations,but nor did we run into any with the truck and trailer. So we called that a wash.
     Returning to the highway we passed a sign for the CHATTANOOGA CHOO CHOO---a BROWN sign.

Another Big Hump

Achieved our objective of staying ahead of the big weather front (that nasty storm that will dump another 18 inches on Boston,and threatens the dreaded wintery mix on today's route south from Harrisburg)by doing another 500 miles today,and are currently ensconced in a Red Roof in Knoxville Tenn. It was a great thing to get into the car at 14 degrees and emerge at 65.Being on such a mission meant a departure from our normal meandering style,so we amused ourselves by noting some tantalizingly named spots as they whizzed by: Hungry Mother State Park, the town of Rural Retreat, and Jonesborough-The Storytelling Capital of the WORLD! (Hey,we're easily amused.) Even saw a sign for Dollywood, but were so brain dead by then...So brain dead, in fact,that we slavishly followed our GPS to this Red Roof somewhere on the outskirts of Knoxville,rather than pursuing the alternate location directly aside the University of Tennessee. Had we chosen the latter,I assume our evening meal might have been somewhere more interesting than the Applebee's next door---(oh well,it's in the neighborhood...)
     Tomorrow should commence the meandering and the camping. Hopefully we'll be test driving our new Verizon mobile modem from Oak Mountain SP in Pelham (near Birmingham) AL.
     Must go...Mark is watching his "porn" (car auctions) on TV. Currently on the block: a Kaiser Darrin, #26 0f 400 made. Things are getting just too heated.

Testing,Testing

Trying to remember how to work this thing,as we'll be hitting the road soon. Keeping an eye on the precipitation/temperature of our route and preliminary destinations. Looks like it's New Orleans via Knoxville,Chattanooga and Birmingham Alabama for starters,then on to Austin Texas and points west. Mark just procured this little gizmo (apologies to the 2 tech-savants amongst our followers) which will free us from random coffee shops and hopefully induce more action packed posts.
     From my research,it seems like the present title will remain apropos for a while; the Bayous of course,and then alligators are present well into Texas. Once we get to west Texas and the deserts beyond,who knows what rattlesnakes,scorpions and gila monsters will inspire.
    Had some complaints last time re the difficulty of commenting,or even accessing the blog. Can't help from this side of the desk. (Well,truthfully,I couldn't help no matter where I were to be sitting---aforementioned techies: a little primer?primmer? You know who you are.) Hopefully Susan #5 aka Steve,last seen humping grocery carts at the Winn Dixie on Flagler, will get our interactive ball rolling.That means you Norma.