kyotesue

3-11-2014 Our piece of the Natchez Trace and Visiting Vicksburg

Catch Up Post completed March 20 from Page, Arizona

When we woke up this morning, the skies were dark and gloomy, but at least it wasn’t raining. Even on a full sunshiny day, the forests in this part of Mississippi can be a bit gloomy with no leaves on the trees. I asked the park ranger what hardwoods were represented here and he scratched his head and said, “I don’t really know…maybe some white oaks and red oaks?” I could see there were probably a dozen kinds of brown leaves in the thick layer on the forest floor, but not being well versed in southern hardwood forests, I had no clue what they were.

Jeremy especially loved this campground. It is funny how he responds to different places. When we first land, he is at the door, anxious to get out and see his surroundings. Sometimes he jumps right out and runs around, other times he sniffs from the step and decides to do a tentative look around before exploring. Here, however, he wanted to be outside all the time, sniffing the leaves and probably finding little critters underneath.

As we were packing up, he jumped outside and decided with a purposeful stride to go directly down to the lake for a look at whatever he might find on the shoreline. Mo called him, and he ignored her, very unusual. She walked down to him and said, “You get home now!” and he did. He is so good about obeying those kinds of commands, and “Get Home” will most often see him ears flattened and going back up the step and into the MoHo.

Even though the Natchez Trace Parkway is more than 400 miles long, I was still excited to be traveling even a small part of it on this day. The gloomy skies and barren trees did make me wish that we had been just a little bit later in the season, although during a “normal” winter, many wildflowers would have been out at this time and the trees often begin leafing in early March.

The Trace is a National Parkway, a strip of protected land without ads, rest stops, or towns, other than old historic settlements that once were important along the way. Reading about the Trace, I noted some reviews that said it would be boring for kids, and that there wasn’t much to see, and no shopping. Kind of reminded me of folks I heard one time when traveling in Glacier National Park wondering why there wasn’t an escalator installed at one of the viewpoints.

Although the Natchez Trace begins officially near the town of Natchez, we entered from the Natchez State Park area. At that point, just a few miles west of the Trace, is the Emerald Mound, the second largest temple mound remaining from the Mississippian Era of mound building in the United States. The Mississippian mound building period lasted a few hundred years, between 1250 CE and 1600 CE. Excavations at Emerald Mound indicate that the mound was used extensively for ceremonial purposes.

The mound was built by hand, with people carrying buckets of soil from some distance to build the hill in several stages. Standing on this wide topped man made hill, I tried hard to imagine how many baskets of soil it would have taken to build it.

Continuing north on the Trace, we came to the site of the Mount Locust Inn. Mount Locust is the only one of more than 50 inns that served weary travelers along the Trace and has been restored to its 1810 appearance, the time when travel on the road reached its historic peak.

Another comment made in one of the reviews, was that traveling the Trace required using a lot of imagination, since many of the sites along the way are just signs showing what was once there. I think that aspect was one of the more delightful parts of the trip. Imagination can go wild thinking of what it must have been like to travel these forests after the long boat trip south on the Mississippi and dreams of a Kentucky home, perhaps a wife and children, waiting many miles distant.

The dreary day helped imagination go back to how hard it must have been to walk and walk through these forests when it was cold and dark. I would have loved to drive the road on a sunny spring day, photographing flowers and green forests and finding wildlife and birds along the way. We did see cardinals, but my skill at identifying “little brown birds” in leafless brown twiggy trees is less than stellar, so only the red guys and the ravens were visible to us.

The 80 miles or so that we had on the parkway was peaceful, and we saw only an occasional car along the way. Stopping at milepost 41.5 to view the Sunken Trace, it was a bit of a stretch to figure out which sunken portion was the actual original trail and which portion was simply erosion. I think we found the “real” trail, and I let my imagination wander once again, wondering if my favorite pioneer icon Davy Crockett ever traveled this part of the road.

Our last stop was at the site of the town of Rocky Springs, another place stimulating lots of imagination as to what it was once like. One building was still standing, however, the beautiful Baptist church, built in 1837, still stands, and until very recently hosted a local congregation. The church was open, with signs inviting us inside, and I couldn’t resist the piano. The cemetery behind the church was a treasure for anyone searching out family heritage, with some stones recording deaths in the early 1800’s.

A slower pace, with time for hiking and photography, for actually feeling what it was like to travel the Natchez Trace would be a luxury and a delight. We only saw it, and the weather and our plans weren’t conducive to a more leisurely trip. If you plan to travel the Natchez Trace for real, and to experience it, it would take as much time as you could give. I do have more photos of our short time on the Trace here if you are interested.

By the time we left the Trace and arrived at Vicksburg, it was raining hard. The visitor center at the Vicksburg National Military Park was surprisingly busy. In the rainy weather, we were happy for the extensive exhibits that explained the importance of the Siege of Vicksburg and the outcome of that struggle to the ending of the Civil War.

The movie explained the battle on a more personal level, but my favorite display was the fiber optic depiction of the military strategy of the Union army as they struggled to take Vicksburg and thus control the Mississippi River. The illuminated dots representing the reds and the blues somehow brought it all to life in a way that even a well done movie couldn’t do. Later, as we drove the 16 mile road of the battlefield, the memories of those lines helped us understand more clearly what we were seeing.

The drive itself is winding and impressive with the many monuments that have been erected to honor troops from many states involved in both the Union and the Confederate armies. Much of the area has been cleared and is open and grassy. Surrounded by thick brushy forest in the natural areas, it was obvious that the actual battles were fought in this incredibly thick brushy and steep landscape.

The dark day and rainy skies made it seem all the more real as I imagined the troops trying to function in those trenches day after day during the cold winter, and then into the muggy, buggy springtime until the siege ended with General Pemberton surrendering to General Grant on July 4, 1863.

All the state memorials are impressive, scattered along the tour road, but the Illinois State Memorial is huge. The dome is open to the sky, and bronze plaques with the names of the troops from Illinois who participated in the siege of Vicksburg line the interior walls. As we explored, a family took rubbings of the name of a long dead ancestor who died at Vicksburg.

Visiting a Civil War battlefield is sobering. I found myself in tears a few times, trying to comprehend the magnitude of this war and the tragedy of lives lost. The movie was hard to watch, the history is hard to read. The rain kept coming down in buckets as we left, once more on the road north and west toward Arkansas and Missouri for a long awaited visit with my son.

3-09-2014 Crossing Mississippi: Do you remember Hattiesburg?

4AM in Natchez State Park Mississippi 50F with fog and a high predicted of 72F

If you remember what happened in Hattiesburg, you are better than I am.

We left Fort Pickens by 7:30 in spite of the spring forward time change. Even with a stop at the dump station, we were on the road by 8, wondering at the lack of traffic in Pensacola on the interstate. Oh. Yes! It is Sunday morning AND the first day of Daylight Savings Time and everyone is still sleeping. I don’t hate the time change, it has been going on forever and is one of those things that lends a little shift to the daily routine. Still, the first week in March does seem a bit early since winter isn’t even officially over.

I have been following the weather rather diligently for all routes north and west for the last couple of weeks, hoping for a shift from freezing rain and icy roads that have plagued the South all the way to coastal Texas. For a time there, as Nicki and Jimmy know well, there was no way west that was free of difficulty.

Missouri is notorious for dramatic weather shifts, and this week is no exception. For the next day or so, the temps will be in the 70’s, and then on Tuesday night it is dropping to a high of 40F and a low in the high 20’s with snow. Yup, I am heading for Missouri. I studied many possible routes, many possible plans, and finally, with the historic river city of Natchez in our back yard tonight, we decided to delay an extra day and travel north toward Missouri AFTER the snow. With a little bit of luck, Missouri will refrain from doing its Missouri thing and not snow within hours of the 70 degree prediction.

So many ways to cross Mississippi. I read so many blogs that talk about routes and cities and things to do along the way. Sometimes Mo asks me, “So can you decide to go somewhere you haven’t read about on a blog?” Her question brought me up short. Hmmmm…have I only a sense of adventure if someone has already clued me in on what is to come? What if Lewis and Clark had felt that way.

In response to her question, I routed us in completely unfamiliar territory directly northwest across the state of Mississippi, traveling north on I-10 only long enough to get from Pensacola through Mobile Alabama. So very much to see and do in Mobile Bay, (as I knew from reading blogs) but this time around we only passed through.

Our destination for the day was Natchez, and with several RV parks that I found on Passport America either completely full or very far from our route, we decided to give the Natchez WalMart a try. A phone call confirmed parking overnight was OK, and for a time we thought we were settled into evening plans. That was before Hattiesburg.

Situated about half way across the state, Hattiesburg has an excellent website, with an excellent writer and web designer extolling the delights of the city and its several historic districts. Ok then…let’s explore Hattiesburg, go for some city self guided drives and check out the architecture! I completely neglected to consider the fact that it was Sunday, and especially here in the Bible Belt of Mississippi nothing was open, including the beautiful Visitor Center. Unlike some centers we have visited on the weekends, there were no brochures left outside for travelers and we were on our own.

Our entry into town was a bit sketchy, with no formal plan, we simply followed the google map directions and ended up on what is called “Old 49”. This particular part of Hattiesburg is a bit different, a bit like the south of the movie Fried Green Tomatoes. The road was rough with big potholes, the houses were overgrown and run down and the few people walking around appeared nearly destitute. Hmmm…beautiful Hattiesburg? Where is it?

We finally found an empty parking lot and Mo pulled over so we could try to figure out where to go. As we were parked, a young woman in extremely tattered clothing (I am pretty sure it wasn’t a fashion statement), came up to the rig and banged on the window, hollering “wha yodon hay yo?!” Ok then. I asked her to repeat herself and she did, but I can’t even spell much less understand what she was saying. Instead I asked where the Visitor Center was and she pointed in what turned out to be the complete opposite direction of where we actually found it.

Other folks in that part of town seemed less than happy about some white women from Oregon in a motorhome wandering through their neighborhoods, and as we passed the local WalMart, I had some second thoughts about camping at the WalMart in Natchez.

After wandering a bit and finding the closed Visitor Center on the “other side of the tracks”, we parked the MoHo in the nice empty parking lot, reviewed the website locations for the historic areas of town, and prepared to go searching for interesting architecture and history.

Before leaving, however, I turned on the internet and started looking up more options for possible camping areas near Natchez. A few misses, including no COE parks for a hundred miles, but suddenly Bingo…Natchez State Park showed up not far from our planned entry to the Natchez Trace. A quick call and an easy reservation for a spot for the night was a bit of a relief.

Wandering back toward town with a better idea of our possible destinations, we found some of the old neighborhoods and historic homes. One gem of the community is the African American Military History Museum, located downtown. We never did find the museum, but Mo read that it was actually closed after the tornado….tornado????

It was then that we knew why the name Hattiesburg sounded familiar. Just over a year ago, Hattiesburg was the town we all saw on the news, devastated by a category 4 hurricane on February 10, 2013. The damage was extensive, including many buildings at the University of Southern Mississippi located on the west side of town.

What we saw, however, on the east side of town was more disturbing. Old neighborhoods, obviously poor black neighborhoods, were devastated as well, and a year later, many are still in disrepair. The sadness and emptiness was palpable as we wandered through the area. Feeling a bit like stalkers, we drove a couple of the streets before trying to be respectful of the tragedy there by leaving.

A bit more driving took us past some interesting old homes in several neighborhoods, but the experience would have been greatly enhanced I am sure with help from information at the visitor center. If you want to see Hattiesburg, don’t do it on a Sunday.

We left town traveling north on Highway 49 and then northwest on Highway 84 all the way to Natchez. I am not sure I have driven such an empty highway since we were in Alaska! The beautifully surfaced four lane divided highway was nearly completely devoid of vehicles, much less any kind of RV’s. Choosing the route on the map, I had expected the road to be some kind of meandering back way through small towns and slow zones, but instead it was fast and beautiful. So much better than my original plan to travel west on I-10 all the way to Baton Rouge and then north along the Mississippi River.

Our gorgeous drive was getting a bit long when we exited 84 and entered Highway 61 north. Without a map any better than the official AAA map of Mississippi, and without the iPad fired up, we had only a general idea of where to find the Natchez State Park. The directions were clear, but instead of waiting for the state park sign to appear, we saw Natchez Trace and ended up on the Natchez Trace Parkway.

Mind you, this is one gorgeous road, but I was completely turned around, and driving into the sun should have been a clue. Lucky for us, the parkway exited in a few miles back in Natchez and we only lost 45 minutes or so before retracing our route and waiting for the real exit to Natchez State Park.

The city of Natchez has a colorful history, one that we want to explore, so hopefully we can get another night here at this “interesting” state park for exploring the town today and continuing on our trek north on the Natchez Trace tomorrow. At the moment, I have no photos of this state park, but in spite of the hilly location in a draw, the site is on a level concrete pad and there is power and water.

There are a few nice motorhomes here, but there were also a few guys working on very old vehicles, and neither one of the campers who welcomed us to the camping area had teeth. We did sleep fairly well, until I woke at 3am at least.

Another day ahead, and another new place to explore, including the infamous “Natchez Under the Hill”. Hoping for some good luck as we continue our explorations without benefit of other blog writer’s stories.

3-08-2014 Fort Pickens Day

Current Location: Natchez State Park, Mississippi 62 F this evening with partly cloudy skies

This morning (Sunday) we are sleeping in, sort of. Daylight Savings time kicked off at 2am and it is now 7 and just barely light out. We thought an early departure would be in order, expecting to travel a bit over 300 miles or so northward today. Options are plentiful, and I am leaning toward the direct route from Mobile through Hattiesburg to Natchez.

I didn’t want to get on the road, however, before remembering the haunting experience of visiting the actual fort at Fort Pickens. Just another way of realizing how much can be learned from being on the road. I had never heard of Fort Pickens, other than bloggers posting now and then about camping here.

Until I visited the fort yesterday, I didn’t have a real grasp on what the Civil War meant in the state of Florida. We have seen many references to the war in other sites in Florida. Somehow I never realized how important Pensacola Bay was to the South, and to the Union trying to control the south by controlling its major ports.

As I have said in the past, I don’t attempt to be either a travelogue or a history book, as there are so many fine resources for this kind of information. However, if you are like me, being in a place triggers my imagination, and I found myself wanting to learn more and more about how this area was affected by the Civil War.

The National Park Service had some great books at the fort Visitor Center, and I wanted to stand and read them all, and maybe even buy them, but managed to refrain. Instead, I found most of the information written by the park service is online, specifically, the role of Pensacola Bay and the four major forts in the area in the Civil War is summarized here. I was especially fascinated reading about the Battle of Santa Rosa Island, with troops losing their way in the dunes and scrub, among other human details.

At Pensacola Bay, there are four major forts and a bunch of batteries, most built long before the Civil War, fortified and rebuilt again in the early 1900’s around the time of the Spanish American War, and then rebuilt and refortified again for World War II.

Fort Pickens is a “real” fort, almost medieval in appearance, with bricks fired in the early 1800’s creating thick walls, much like those seen at our visit to the Dry Tortugas a few years ago. There is even a moat, albeit a “dry moat”.

A few cannons are on display, with information about the smooth bore cannons and rifled cannons, and 300 pound cannon balls made of iron. Geez.

A fascinating thought from the brochure about the Advanced Redoubt of Fort Barrancas across the bay, and also true of Fort Pickens: “This fort is a study in changes. The construction began with slave labor but was finished by free men. In an age of brick and stone, its walls were filled with cement. Although it was designed to last for centuries, it was outdated before the last brick was set.”

Sounds like some of our defense stuff from the current times, I would say. Evidence of this kind of shift in defense is displayed extremely well at Fort Pickens with the “fort within a fort”. Battery Pensacola (the dark walls in the photo) was constructed in 1898 to withstand the new heavier cannon power that the brick walls of the original fort could no longer handle.

Funniest oops of all was the accidental explosion of one of the powder magazines that blew out a big hole in the north side of the fort and was never repaired.

Another bit of information that was totally surprising to me was that Geronimo was incarcerated at Fort Pickens for a time. I had no clue, even though I knew that he was brought to Florida and never again saw his homeland. Somehow history becomes much more real when you are standing in the actual location. I am reminded again of moments standing at the scene of the Battle of the Little Bighorn on our trip in 2012.

We wandered around for along time, following along with the self-guided tour booklet an marveling at the fascinating story of the evolution of homeland defense for more than 100 years, all now obsolete with the advent of air power and missiles. Large forts no longer protect our harbors and bays, but Pensacola still houses a huge military presence.

With Abby safely napping in the MoHo while we toured, Mo and I took the time to go to the beach together for a bit and enjoy the gorgeous white sands and beautiful waters one last time. There was so much to do in the area, and we barely tapped the surface. In spite of our desire to visit Fort Barrancas and the Advanced Redoubt, (a fortification before the major fortification, built to slow down the attackers before they get to the real thing) the need to slow down and rest a bit before dinner won out.

We would have loved especially visiting the Naval Aviation Museum, the best in the country I have heard, and if we had been here a bit longer, we may have been treated to a practice performance by the Blue Angels. Yes, so very much to do.

Our last night in Florida was celebrated in true Pensacola style with a drive across the bridges from the island to the mainland for dinner at McGuire’s. On a Saturday evening the place was packed, and it is first come first served, no reservations. In spite of the giant crowds jammed at the door, in the bar, in the gift shop and everywhere we looked, within 20 minutes we were seated at a cozy table. We even managed a seat in the bar for pre dinner drinks!

McGuires is an amazing place, and with the huge jammed full parking lot, somehow the interior of the restaurant is designed such that it feels like a small rather intimate pub. I have no idea how they do that. We had one of the best waitresses ever, who treated us as if she had all the time in the world, and saw to our every need. Dinner was simple fish and chips, with those fabulous Rueben Egg Rolls for an appetizer. Mo loved them as much as I did!

I lugged the camera along, but took not a single photo, either of the pub, the people, or the food. It was just too much to try to take pictures while we were having fun and thoroughly enjoying the people watching.

Right across from us was a couple on the date from hell. The girl was adorable, and the guy was a dork, on his phone half the time, and you could tell they didn’t know each other very well. It was so obviously a first date and an awkward one at that.

Then we noticed a lot of guys dining together, most of them with very spiffy military haircuts, and even a group of incredibly well pressed Marines sat down next to us. Whew….there must be a LOT of loose guys running around in this town on a Saturday night. Now, of course, I wish I had taken some photos to illustrate all this interesting humanity, but you will just have to use your imagination.

In spite of the no photos problem, I couldn’t resist stealing a few from the internet, just to give you a bit of a feel for the place. They even have their own Irish Piping Band, and a St Paddy’s Day run, their own double decker busses and who knows what else. I guess it is a bit like Irish Disneyland. Fake but fun. And terrific food!

We both thought it quite fitting that we started our sojourn into Florida with dinner at McGuire’s in Destin, and ended it with dinner at McGuire’s in Pensacola.

3-06 to 3-08-2014 North and West to the end of Florida

Fort Pickens Campground: overcast and 54 Degrees F Partially sunny day predicted

It is with a bit of melancholy that I leave behind the magical springs and forests of north-central Florida. In spite of our need to see as much as possible of the state, and in spite of the amazing wonders we found in many areas, the beautiful campgrounds at the many springs, both state and national forest, and the gorgeous waters were still the best part of the trip.

For much of our travels, we both thought that while we loved biking through Shark Valley, driving the Overseas Highway, meeting friends new and old all along the route, we would probably have no need to return to Florida. That made me a bit sad, because I knew how much I loved being in some parts of Florida during some parts of the year.

After camping at Alexander Springs, and Blue Springs, and driving through the nearly empty and quiet roads between Orange City and Perry, Mo was echoing my own thoughts. “Yeah, maybe in a few years we will have to come back”. As I drove, she was reading about several springs, state parks, and rivers that we didn’t manage to kayak. Names that aren’t easy to roll off the tongue, Ichetucknee, Appalachicola, Aucilla, Blackwater, Chipola, Choctawatchee, Ochlockonee, Alapha, Oklawaha, Rainbow River, Juniper Springs Run, Steinhatchee River, Waddasassa, Withlacoochee, Alafia….and it goes on and on.

This morning, she said emphatically, “I would be willing to come back here to explore the springs and rivers, we could spend a whole month just doing that, I just don’t want to go back to all that crowded stuff with all the traffic!” Yes!! So that bit of nostalgia that I felt as we left Blue Springs on Thursday morning was mitigated a bit as I realized that I will one day return to the Northern Florida I so dearly love.

We said our goodbyes to Sherry and David on the previous evening, with plans to depart as soon as it was light. Our travel plans have a bit of wiggle room, now, and are weather dependent, but it still seemed like a good time to make some miles. The original thought was to leave early, and drive the interstates 75 and 10 west to Pensacola as quickly as possible, hoping to do a 500 mile day, as we have often done out west.

Instead, the weather gods brought us dark, driving rain, and a LOT of dirty laundry that was piling up in the MoHo. Mo looked at the map and my proposed route and said, “Why don’t we take some of these side roads?” Well, that would be fine but we surely won’t be making 500 miles doing that. We backed off from the aggressive plans and decided a leisurely route to Fort Pickens was a much better idea.

I had made reservations previously for three nights, but with our senior pass the cost was only $13. per night, not a lot to lose if we could find a boondock site somewhere along the route. The choice gave us the opportunity to meander along highway 40 to Ocala, and stop to explore Juniper Springs.

In the driving rain, and again with no dogs allowed’’ rules, Mo opted to stay in the motorhome while I wandered in to explore on of the first places in Florida that captured my heart. Bel brought me to Juniper Springs in March of 2000, during my first visit and we often came here during my Florida trips. I loved seeing the old mill house, reading about the efforts of the CCC, and loved the beautiful color of the spring.

Juniper Springs is a small spring, with only 13 million gallons a day feeding the Juniper Springs Run, but it is charming and lovely. It has been altered a bit with cement and rockwork, but CCC rockwork is lovely and doesn’t detract at all from the beautiful springs. I was surprised to see the old arched rock bridge collapsed and closed off due to erosion and degradation of the limestone. I have photos that Bel took of me sitting on that bridge and couldn’t resist taking another photo of it in its present state.

Continuing west in the pouring rain, in northeast Ocala, we found a great laundromat. After I got over the sticker shock of 2.75 for a tiny machine and 5. for a big one, and 9.50 for the huge ones, I settled in to refresh all our dirty damp river clothes, our clammy bedding and moist towels and wet bathing suits.

We couldn’t have picked a better day for such meandering, since the rain was heavy and the skies were dark and murky. Not a day for sightseeing or fighting interstate truck traffic. After laundry was finished we meandered up to Gainesville where Mo found a Great Clips and got a haircut that she had been wanted for weeks now. I shopped at Publix for a few needed items and we were then again on our way, via Highway 27 toward Perry.

I started looking for possible overnight stops, preferably free ones to make up for the fee we had already paid for Fort Pickens and decided on the Cracker Barrel in Tallahassee, on the north side of town near I-10. Our approach to town, however, was the easier southern route and using GasBuddy to find a good fuel price led us to the Costo on the east side of Tallahassee. Perfect, and just across from us, in the pouring rain, we could see a big Super Walmart parking lot.

I called the management, and they said, go ahead and park at the far end of the lot, but we are not responsible for anything. Ok Sure, we know that. Looking at that big empty lot in a nice area of town, we thought it seemed a lot more inviting that trying to get through Tallahassee late afternoon traffic to find the Cracker Barrel. It was a great choice. We had the entire lot to ourselves, with plenty of parking lot lighting, and a heavy rain making any kind of hassles non-existent. There appeared to be no security in this lot as well, but there also is no security at Cracker Barrel.

I took a little bit of time to review Erin’s blog about their time in Tallahassee, and would have loved the opportunity to see some of the great art and buildings that she photographed so beautifully. I would have loved to visit the Alfred B. Maclay Gardens State Park as well, but the dark rainy skies made it OK to continue west toward Fort Pickens and what was left of our three day reservation.

We chose to drive Highway 20 west, the most direct route to Pensacola, avoiding the meandering route along the coast that we drove on our way south, and the heavily traveled I-10 that was the parallel route to our north. Turned out to be a great choice, with a well maintained mostly 2 lane highway with a smooth surface passing through small rural towns and north of the great Appalachicola National Forest.

Arriving in Fort Pickens in late afternoon, we were glad that we hadn’t attempted the entire trip in one day. We most certainly wouldn’t have made it by gate closing time and would have had to spend the night outside the park anyway. If you haven’t already checked in, you can’t get in after 5PM when the gates close.

Fort Pickens campground is on a barrier island that is part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore, a national treasure that spans 160 miles from Cat Island, Mississippi, to The Okaloosa Area east of Fort Walton Beach. There are 12 major areas, including several historic forts, the whitest beaches anywhere, picnic areas, nature trails, and campgrounds.

There is so much to do in this area and we will only tap the surface with our day and a half at the campground. The weather is the coldest it has been in years, and the ranger at the check-in office was exceedingly grumpy about that. She was emphatic about dog rules, camping rules, no car tires on the grass rules, and generally informed me of as many rules as she could remember. Emphatically. I think the cold weather and the fact the the campground was jammed full for the next three days had put her in a grumpy state. I did my best not to contribute to her grumpiness, but internally I was thinking not nice thoughts about how condescending and rude she was. Don’t argue with a cop, right?

We settled into our site in Loop C, site 37,chosen for its more open and spacious grounds, and accessibility to the trail where we can take Abby. Mo offered to stay with the animals while I walked over to the beach, actually I drove to the beach parking area and then walked the boardwalk to the beach. No remarks, here, I was worn out!

Once on the beach, in spite of the chilly winds at the campground, the air was almost still and the temperatures were warm enough I had to take off my vest. I even waded in the beautiful water. I caught myself laughing inside and even sometimes out loud at how many photos I took of the water, the gentle waves, the blue line on the horizon, the white sand. Just how many photos of blue and white and turquoise and emerald do I really need? Processing photos last night, I did eliminate some, and hopefully after a bit of time I will be able to let more of them go. Still, if I put them in a slide show, it is almost like I am walking the beach again.

Later in the afternoon, we took Abby on the Florida Nature Trail that leads south to the Battery Langdon, but with Abby along we refrained from climbing up on the battery for the views.

A little side trail called the Blackbird Marsh Nature Trail provided trailside signage of some of the local plants and a loud chorus of birdsong. Note to self: carry the binoculars as well as the camera. I still don’t have the will to carry both the regular lens and the telephoto lens, so no real bird photos.

I spent much of the evening looking at weather pages, paper maps, google maps, and trying to determine our route north when we leave here.

With all the ice storms and polar plunges and such, I don’t want to get trapped in Missouri in the thick of it, but so far it looks doable and we will be traveling north to Joplin, Missouri beginning Sunday morning. This time, however, I am not trying to do it PDD style, and we will give ourselves three days to get there. The Natchez Trace Parkway is part of the plan, and with that area being completely new to us, I am excited about the route.

In spite of the completely full campground, the night was dark and quiet and I slept extremely well. It is nice to have electricity so we can plug in our little space heater for gentle warmth without noise. Mo cooked breakfast for us this morning and we are planning our day ahead, including a visit to the beautiful Fort Pickens grounds just south of the campground, and possibly a trip across the bridges. McGuire’s Irish Pub is calling! We experienced a great meal at the McGuire’s in Destin and don’t want to miss out on the Pensacola location. We are just a breath away of the most western point of Florida. Tomorrow the Florida part of this trip will be only a memory.

3-05-2014 Manatee Morning and Snake Creek Afternoon

Blue Springs State Park Currently 56 degrees F High today 76

I have been thinking about what to write about yesterday for hours. The day all just blends together in my mind and words seem useless. Yesterday was a experiential visual delight, so much so that my senses are almost overwhelmed with the magic of it all and I am at a complete loss for words. I may just give up and resort to a string of photos to try to catch the magic.

We are at Blue Springs State Park, arrived Monday afternoon to sunny skies and a nice campsite. Of course, the big surprise of the day was that we were right next to Sherry and David, with no clue that they were even still here, much less in the site next to us. What a delight, especially since Sherry has so much knowledge to share about the local treats, including manatees, secret kayak places, and ice cream.

I was surprised as we arrived in Orange City at how big the area seemed to be, how developed. I somehow imagined Blue Springs to be as remote and quiet as Alexander Springs was, tucked away in the Ocala National Forest. Instead, Blue Springs is an oasis of state land in the midst of a well developed urban zone. Today I saw a sequence of aerial photographs that depicted the change in urbanism around the island of protected state land since the 70’s. Such a gift that this place was saved.

After settling in, we took Abby for a walk down to the boardwalk where dogs are allowed, a nice benefit at this park. Although Abby can’t go on the upper boardwalk to the main spring, we can take here all the way out to the St John River where most of the manatees seems to hang out anyway. On our first walk that afternoon we saw several manatees hanging out, resting and moving quietly.

Yesterday morning, however, I walked through the early dawn light to the boardwalk again, and to my delight found 8 manatees playing near the spring. As I watched they began moving slowly back toward the river, and I had the moments all to myself, with no sound but the gentle “whuff” of manatee breath now and then. As the morning progressed, a few more people showed up to visit the manatees, including Sherry, and we laughed at the serendipity of our chance camping choices and talked about manatees and kayaking.

Kayaking was a priority for us for the two days we had to spend here and Mo and I were on the river by 11, heading south into the St John toward the oxbow and then into the narrow channel of Snake Creek.

This is the point where words just completely fail. Mo and I decided that this paddle was probably our premier paddle of all time, just beyond perfect.

The weather was perfect, the skies were perfect, a bit of cloudiness to dress things up and then brilliant sunshine to illuminate everything.

Can you imagine being led into a wilderness by four great egrets, lifting in front of us, flying a bit farther into the channel, and landing. Waiting till we got close, lifting again to fly further down the river. They did this all the way to Dead Hontoon River, and then did the same thing all the way back to the St John River on our return trip.

We saw baby alligators and big daddy alligators, more turtles than I could possibly count, saw red shouldered hawks, and heard barred owls and saw wild turkeys on the shore.

Big Blue Herons, Little Blue Herons, green heron? night heron? cormorants, anhingas, cardinals, and what Carol Herr called “little brown birds”.

The water was so still, just barely moving, and the forest so silent except for bird calls. Not a single boat marred the perfection of our 3 hour paddle into that primordial place.

It felt exactly as if we were in some kind of prehistoric jungle place, a world only imagined and not even in the vocabulary of our gorgeous Pacific Northwest sojourns. I feel as though I am in a foreign land here in Florida, a magic place full of green and warmth and water and birds.

I am simply out of words.