Before we left Palm City, Gene made reservations at the
Collier-Seminole State Park, so that is where we headed. Sandy and Anna gave us
a routing that avoided all interstates and turnpikes, so off we headed into the
hinterlands of Florida (yes, Virginia, there are hinterlands in Florida).
First, we stopped at Publix to restock food; but then we decided we needed some
other things as well. We figured that we could get everything we wanted at a
Walmart. They are everywhere, so surely we would pass one on the way. As it
turned out, we saw very few stores of any kind, much less a Walmart, the whole
way.
What we did see was lots of rural Florida. At first it
was mostly cattle with no crops. Eventually, as we approached Lake Okeechobee, we
saw fields of sugar cane. The route they had given us seemed simple, Just three
roads to the Tamiami Trail across the state. What they overlooked was that the
three roads didn’t always intersect. We had to find our way from one to the
other. So there was a little frantic map searching.
We stopped for lunch at the southern end of the lake. When
we went to get out, Jean couldn’t find her purse. We both did a thorough search
of the motorhome. She called back to the house, but she hadn’t left it there.
Finally, on another search, she spotted it on the floor. It was a small, black
purse, laying on a black rug. Both of us had missed it several times. Who says
camouflage doesn’t work?
The Tamiami Trail (US-41) cuts straight across Florida
through the Big Cypress Swamp. We saw more wildlife on a two-hour drive than
the rest of the time in Florida until then. We saw alligators, cormorants,
anhingas, ibis, and turtles among other things. We got to the park and
squirreled ourselves into a spot and settled in for the night.
There are some interesting
displays at the park. The first thing you come to is a walking dredge. This
machine was designed to walk through the swamp, and was used in the
construction of the Tamiami Trail.
This area is part of a
huge (900,000 acres) block of land bought by Barron Collier to preserve the environment and especially the
royal palms, which are native to this area. He became a millionaire selling
streetcar advertising. It’s amazing what humble products can produce large
amounts of income.
We were in the park when
some of the air plants bloom. They can be colorful.
The park information
center is in a reproduction of the kind of blockhouses used during the third
(and last) Seminole War.
The park is next to the road leading to Marco Island.
Jean’s brother worked there one summer while he was in college, clearing
mangroves, etc. by hand. We drove down there to see what they made of it. As we
crossed the high bridge we saw high-rises in the distance. The island has
become a high-priced area with condos, McMansions, and gated communities. The
land has been cut into numberless canals so that every house is on waterfront
and you can park your boat in your back yard. We were looking for a public
beach, but the only one we found charged $12 to park, so we passed it up.
After leaving Marco, we finally found a Walmart and got
the things we needed. We were hungry by then, so we took a chance on a place
called Bob’s Burgers. We try to eat at local places rather than chains as often
as we can. We had no idea what to expect but we soon found out it was not your
basic burger joint. My hamburger came as two patties on the halves of an
English muffin. They were topped with onion rings stuffed with mushrooms. There
was a bowl of au jus and thick French
fries. Jean had a standard cheeseburger with a side of really good cole slaw
with cranberries and pecans. Everything was done right.
Next day, Saturday, we just hung out at the campground.
It was too hot and muggy to think of trying out a hiking trail. Gene did some
more work on the latch to the armoire, which wasn’t catching again. Jean did
some reading and Gene did some writing. In other words, a quiet day. Mostly
sitting in the air conditioning, listening to Preservation Hall jazz and Cajun
music from our new CDs.
After the relaxation, Sunday was busy. We left the park
early and drove down the road to the Walmart. We both needed to get
prescriptions refilled and we needed groceries. The prescriptions took longer
than we hoped, but by afternoon we were on our way again. Our first stop was
Koreshan History State Park, where Gene had secured a reservation. After
checking in, we turned around and headed back down the way we came.
Our destination was Sanibel Island, but we decided to go
by way of a long, narrow peninsula and some islands rather than attack the
traffic in Ft. Meyers. In retrospect, that was not the smartest way to do it.
We had visions of a pleasant drive with water on either side. In fact, it was
very much like A1A, driving mere yards from the beach but not able to see it
for the houses and condos crowded together. As we approached Ft. Meyers, the beachgoer
traffic got quite heavy, and it was a relief to get back on the mainland and
Ft. Meyers itself.
When we finally crossed the
causeway onto Sanibel, we decided to go all the way to Captiva. We had never
been to Captiva and the map showed a public beach all the way out on the end. We drove to the end of the line and sure
enough, there was a beach with parking. There was also a sign warning that
there was not enough room to turn around for any vehicle bigger than a pick-up.
That sign was just past the last place where we could turn around. So we just
continued on into the small parking area. We found a parking place for our
22-foot motorhome right next to a sign that said “no vehicles over 20’.” Again
too little, too late.
We bought an hour’s worth of
parking, unloaded beach chairs, etc., and headed to the beach. We made good use
of the time we had. Jean found several nice shells. Sanibel and Captiva are
known for their shelling. Here on Captiva we were finding shells on the whole
beach, not just the tide line.
The beach was not crowded,
except for one space filled with umbrellas and lounges. We figured that area
was in front of a hotel or similar facility.
Ponytail Palm |
We had arrived at this
motorhome trap late in the day. By the time we needed to leave, enough cars (in
the right places) had left so that there was no problem turning around to
leave. The day had been hot, so we sought out some ice cream. It tasted so
good! At the ice cream place is where we saw a ponytail palm, which we had
never heard of before.
Back at the campground, we were
parked in a handicap space, so it was paved and handy to the bathrooms. The
natural growth in this area is a dense mix of pine, hardwoods, and palm trees,
with a thick understory including saw palmetto. The sites in the state parks
are carved out of the jungle, so that even though the parking pads are close
together, you can barely see your neighbor.
The park we were in includes
the site of the Koreshan Unity village. Koreshan is one of the utopian
communities that sprang up in the nineteenth century. This one lasted for about
70 years, though it only had about 100 or so members. They built a village and
an economy in the wilds of Florida at the end of the 19th and beginning
of the 20th centuries (yes, it was pretty wild then). The park
contains what is left of the town, about fifteen surviving buildings, one of
which is still used for performances. We spent about an hour there before
getting back on the road. It is one of those interesting places you never hear
about until you run onto them in your travels.
Leaving Koreshan in the early
afternoon, we spent the next several hours traveling up the coast. We stopped
in the late afternoon in another state park (Oscar Schrerer — don’t ask me who
he was). Here again, we are in a slot carved out of the jungle. There is a
short path at the back of the site that leads to a small river. We really like
the Florida State Parks, though it is hard to get a campsite during the season.
Thanks to Hannah’s wedding, we are on the shoulder of the season and getting a
spot for the night is easier. It is also hotter, so that is the downside.
Our next point of interest was
Anna Maria Island, off Bradenton. But first we had to go through Sarasota. That
is the town the Ringling Circus eventually settled on for their winter
quarters, and eventually the Ringling’s home. Gene always notices the
references to Ringling since their home town was originally Baraboo, Wisconsin,
where he is from. He grew up seeing movies in the Al Ringling Theater.
We drove up a long string of
islands, some of them very busy and some of them very tony. We finally came to
Coquina Beach (part of Bradenton Beach). This is one of the best beaches we
have been to (and we have been to a lot). There is extensive free parking
(including an area for RVs), much of which is in the shade. One of the nice
features is a broad, tree-shaded area between the parking and the beach. There
are picnic tables there, and even cabanas.
The beach has fine, white sand,
good to walk on. There are concrete groins to control erosion, with piles of
shells next to them. A treasure-trove for Jean. There were not the usual
sandpipers, but we did watch a busy willet working the water’s edge.
We stayed until we started getting red, then
went on to Anna Maria for lunch. Back on the mainland, Jean found a campground
in Palm Harbor. We just had to endure miles of heavy traffic in the St.
Petersburg, Clearwater area. Once there, we had a layover day. Time for laundry
again.
Mostly laundry (one of the
dryers was very slow) and relaxing. Next day, Wednesday, we were back on the
road, heading north. We had one more stop we wanted to make, Tarpon Springs.
This town is best known as a center of Greek sponge fishing. We headed down to
the Sponge Docks.
This area is non-stop tourist
traps, crowded and hard to find (free) parking. We drove around a little,
checking it out. We found on-street parking a couple of blocks away, and headed
for the strip. We ended up talking for a while with a gift shop clerk whose
family (now the shop owners) had lived for a number of years in Williamsburg.
On our walk around, we saw this
restored old sail-powered sponge boat. There is still a lot of sponge fishing, but
much more modern now.
One of Jean’s goals in this
very Greek area, was to get some more mastiki,
a spice she uses when she makes tsourekia,
a Greek Easter bread (which she likes so much she also makes it at Christmas).
We had been here before, and she found it in the same Greek grocery she got it
the last time. All told a successful visit.
That finishes the stops we
wanted to make in Florida. From here on we are basically heading home. However,
there is a wrinkle. Jean’s brother is now suffering a second bout with “the
crud” (so called by his doctor). Jean had a long-lasting bout of it last
winter, and all are urging us to hold off getting home until he is better. We
don’t know how that will work out, and what other adventures await us on the
way home. Stay tuned, same time, same station.