restaurants – Page 3 – The MoHo and Other Traveling Tales

Don’t believe everything you read on the Internet

Seems as though time just slides by beautifully when winter slips in. This was a work week for me, and the one day I had to drive to town to the “real” office was the day before the huge northwestern snow storm blew in. Lucky me! The rest of the week I worked at home, snug as can be in my little office with the wood stove cranked up high and the cat snuggled in next to me in his bed. Mo plowed a few times, I shoveled and ran the snow blower, and we hauled half a cord of wood to the porch, but the storm didn’t cause us a bit of trouble.

I am working on a rocky soil problem, and my head is filled with stones, cobbles, boulders, and gravels of all sizes. Each of these has a specific size and description of course, and eventually I will get it all sorted out and plugged into all those nice little NASIS fields and someday someone will request some interpretations for the Knot Tableland and out will pop a nifty little report, generated specifically for their area of interest from the data we gather, refine, and populate.

As I sit in the office fiddling with numbers, my mind wanders back to 2004 and 2005 when I was mapping out on the Knot Tableland, and dug a ton of holes in those stones, cobbles, and gravels and described those soils. It was hot and dry, and most of the time I was alone. That is the way we work in soil survey more often than not.

So this week, my mind has been split between recalling those memories as I look at my old descriptions, and talking on the phone with the project leader in Klamath till my ear was sore. ( I gotta get another ear piece!) We resolved the issues, and on this Saturday night, two more soils are written, cleaned up, and put to bed in NASIS.

Then, right in the midst of the worst of the windy snow, I got a call from my daughter Deanna saying that she and her husband were coming down the five and did we want to meet them for a short visit before they chained up to go over the Siskiyous. Wow! Deanna and Keith have their own truck and haul jet engines all over the country, but they haven’t been down this way in at least two years. I don’t get to see my daughter very often, so Mo agreed to drive, whiteouts or not, and we headed over the pass to Medford.

We had a great visit at Shari’s, next to the big Pilot truck stop where they could park the rig. I even remembered to bring the sweater I am working on for Deanna to check the fit. It was perfect and she likes the colors. I still can hardly believe this little girl of mine drives that great big truck.

Somehow, in the midst of everything else, remembering the last days of our trip home from the desert up the California coast just slid right by with an occasional thought, “Oh yeah, that!”. So here is the promised “rest of the story”.

When we left Vandenberg, there was a bit of fog hanging around making the hills look mysterious and mystical. The route led through Pismo Beach, a beautiful place to spend some time, but since it was only 9:30 in the morning when we arrived and still quite foggy and chilly, we decided to continue on to San Luis Obispo. First I had to check out the local quilt shop, and with early morning traffic in the small town almost non-existent, we had no trouble parking the MoHo right in front of the store. I browsed through the windows, but decided that waiting another 90 minutes for them to open was silly and we continued on toward breakfast.

Our route home from Vandenberg AFB could have been simply a run up the 101, but why do simple when challenging is an option. We instead decided that we were up for the winding beauty of California’s scenic coast highway 1. Listed in many places as one of the most beautiful drives in the world. Why in the world would we miss the chance to crawl along the steep cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean in a motorhome towing a car.

One of my favorite restaurants along this part of the coast the the Apple Farm in San Luis. We were seated in the beautiful glassed in gazebo with brilliant sun shining in the windows framing the lovely hills surrounding us. As usual, breakfast was scrumptious, with home fries and “California Scramble” which included lots of spinach, artichokes, olives and other California stuff. I really appreciate my California upbringing and being exposed to things like artichokes, avocados, and olives as everyday food. I grew up eating lots of fresh stuff from the lush gardens and orchards where we lived that are now just pavement.

We continued north to Morro Bay and our last chance to hightail it back over to the simpler route along 101. The sun was out, the skies were clear, and when we saw the sign saying it was only another 135 miles to Monterey we decided to go for it. It was a great drive. Winding and a bit challenging at times, but nothing too difficult. The only thing about this road that is bothersome is the lack of places to pull over and actually spend time. I was in the passenger seat, and the skies were a just a little bit murky from the morning fog, so my photos aren’t that great. Of course, with the proliferation of digital photography and google search, there are at least a bazillion photos of every single stretch of this beautifully amazing stretch of road. I even have some from other trips we have taken, so I wasn’t too concerned about missing out. In fact, it was nice just being able to do the white knuckle thing now and then without worrying about photography.

Our evening destination was the Military Family Camp at Monterey Pines RV Park and Golf Course. This camp is on the grounds of the Monterey Naval Postgraduate School. We called ahead for a reservation, because even at $30 a night, that was cheap for anything else around that part of California. It was good that we did, because the camp was nearly full. Our rig is technically 26 feet long, and that is what I answer when asked when making a reservation. We were given a nice pull through site on the phone, but when we arrived we were told she had moved us to space 22. I think it was the shortest, tightest space in the park, and a big 40 footer was in our originally assigned space. After crawling around slippery ice plant to try to hook up, and struggling to get level, we decided that in the future we should say we are 30 feet long so we won’t get relegated to the worst sites in the camp!

The campground is adjacent to a beautiful golf course, but the camp itself is really crowded and tight, and is backed up directly to the airport and hangars. Loud noise for much of the night, and the occasional bomb going off now and then made things interesting. We settled in, and decided to try to find a grocery store. Safeway was only 1.5 miles away, but my gosh, the traffic was horrendous! One of those things I forget about California until I get back there. We were glad for a nights rest and hookups, but might not try to come back to this one unless absolutely necessary. There aren’t any Passport America parks anywhere in the vicinity, though, so it was good for a night.

The next day we decided to do another 250 mile run and spent some time searching around Streets and Trips, CampWhere, and AllStays for a place to spend the night. We considered trying to get as far as Trinidad and the free casino, but then found a beautiful little park right on the 101 just north of Willits. Creekside Cabins and RV Resort looked really great on the internet. I tried calling to verify the Passport America Park status, but no one answered so I left a message. After driving through the Bay Area, we were ready for a nice night in a quiet place.

Winding down into a damp, dark canyon, we felt a bit of consternation, but thought maybe the park would be OK. The turn in came up suddenly and we pulled into the driveway only to discover a huge iron gate, tightly closed. It was dark and spooky there, even in the afternoon, but I got out and rang the bell. No answer. We were in a pickle because the rig was cocked at a weird angle and there was no way we would get the car unhooked and we couldn’t back up or turn around. I finally walked into the park and realized that this place might not be the best place to be. There were really old rigs with blue tarps, big dogs with spike collars, strange looking people, and a LOT of junk.

I finally flagged down a somewhat “high” dude and asked him if he could open the gate to let us come in and turn around. He was hemming and hawing but then the camp host appeared, another strange looking woman with wild hair and a gazillion tats and piercings, and said we could come in and look around. One of the reasons we wanted the park was to see some TV that night, Mo was looking forward to one of the debates, and when this woman said, “Yeah we have maybe 6 channels”, we decided boondocking was a far better choice and we managed to get turned around and outta there! Whew!

It was getting late and dark but we got back on the highway thinking we could find a casino, or a pull out or something. I had no cell phone signal, but unbelievably there was still a Verizon signal on the MiFi and I found a park about 40 miles farther up the road. We pulled into Richardson Grove RV Park a little bit later, settling in just before dark and hard rain started falling. We thought we had it handled when we left Monterey. I used all the tools available, found a Passport America Park, used the MiFi and GPS to find it, and still ran into the unknown factor. We still laugh about just how much different that Creekside park looked in person than it looked on the nice internet web site. By the way, it was no longer a Passport America Park, either, and the fees would have been 40 bucks for one night if we had decided to stay.

We surely were glad to return home the next day to our beautiful, safe, cheap, gorgeous space A12 at Harris Beach State Park in Brookings. Ahh, home, or almost home. It was so good that we settled in for two nights and three days before packing up the Tracker, putting the MoHo to bed in the storage building, and traveling home to Rocky Point.

Meeting up with another blogging mentor

Last year when we were in Desert Hot Springs, Rick and Paulette were still tucked away at home in British Columbia, but since I follow Rick’s blog I knew that this time our visit would hopefully include a meeting with the two of them. I emailed Rick and we said we would catch up with each other sometime during the week. Rick didn’t waste any time and as we were relaxing with tea yesterday morning I heard the sound of a diesel truck slowly passing our site and looked outside to see a familiar face. Rick was hunting us down!

As is so often the case with RV bloggers, it was instant recognition and familiarity. We sat in the warm morning sun for awhile visiting and making plans to get together on Monday night at a local restaurant.

After our day circling the Salton Sea we were happy to spend Sunday relaxing, swimming, going for some park walks, and for me, knitting. I will be working on my daughter’s birthday sweater for a very long time. KarenInTheWoods saw a comment of mine regarding sock knitting and sweetly sent along a sock pattern to me. She called it a simple pattern, but I don’t exactly think it is THAT simple, Karen, but Thank You!! I’ll keep working on the sweater and try knitting up these fat warm cozy socks next winter. Karen mentioned that she loves to knit while riding along in the motorhome. I love that as well, although the bumpy California roads have made that attempt a bit awkward.

The warm weather and gorgeous sunshine is conducive to real relaxation, and we planned another day of the same on Monday so that we could watch the Rose Parade and then the Rose Bowl with our home team, the Oregon Ducks actually winning the Rose Bowl. Fellow blogger Merikay is actually in Pasadena seeing the parade and the game and I am looking forward to her stories about that fulfilled dream of hers.

After the parade and before the game we decided to drive out Dillon Road to the east to find Blair’s RV shop, highly recommended by Rick for obscure RV parts and an extensive knowledge base tucked away in the owner’s head. We found the small part we needed to fit the smaller than usual sewer pipe at Catalina and were on our way farther east to check out Thousand Palms Oasis. Our plan was to hike with Abby, but even on the east side of the Coachella Reserve we found signs saying “No Dogs”. Ah well, there are lots of other places where we can go with Abby and tomorrow we will head for one of them.

Mo and I both love roads that wind off into nowhere and as we drove back north toward Dillon road, we found an old worn out once paved track leading up into the hills. Let’s go! The road was rough, but the Tracker can handle that and we followed the path through the desert. The desert seems to be a very popular place for people and guns, because scattered along the road were several groups of people shooting. I noticed most of them had targets that looked like human silhouettes, and while shooting at bottles or bulls eyes seems innocuous enough, those human targets really bother me.

The road looked like it would wind back toward Indio Hills but instead we ran into a complete dead end right in the middle of a large group of young, somewhat rowdy looking shooters. They all had plugs in their ears and basically ignored us except for some irritated looks as we attempted to turn the tracker around on the half lane dirt track. I had a close up look at the guy’s pistol, black and pretty scary looking.

We found several places that looked as though they might be great boondock sites, but I didn’t think we wanted to compete with the shooters or listen to the gunshots all day long. The desert has an earned reputation as a haven for independent sorts of people that don’t particularly like rules and treasure their freedom. My favorite of all time, Ed Abbey, was one of those types, as are these gun toting shooters. Philosophies as wide apart as night and day, and yet both still at home in the desert.

Trundling back to our safe and sane site at Catalina, we turned on the game and spent the rest of the afternoon cheering along (and sending little encouraging emails to Russ) when the Ducks kept getting touchdowns. The game started at 2 and our dinner get together was scheduled for 6. It was an exciting game, with each team scoring like leap frogs, but the Ducks carried it off in the end. Our only problem was we had a half an hour drive to Palm Springs and had to leave during the last four minutes of the game. I fired up the phone and Mo fired up the radio and we managed to finish out that last four minutes while heading for town along Dillon Road.

Downtown Palm Springs was all lit up with Christmas lights and people were walking the streets as usual in the warm desert evening. Parking wasn’t a problem on a side street and we saw the smiling faces of our new friends waiting in front of the historic restaurant. Rick took some great photos and wrote about the restaurant as well, so I won’t try to do it all over again.

I will say that we had a great time talking about some of the similarities and differences between our two countries. My favorite part was learning that watching American politics is a spectator sport in Canada! Of course, Paulette and I share the delight of daughters, she has four and I only have three, and each of us has only one son. Discussing adult children and their various life choices made for some funny observations for all of us. Paulette is a lovely person with a great blog of her own all about her quilting passion and I so enjoyed having time to visit with her.

I must say that meeting Rick was wonderful. Back when I first discovered a blogging community, Laurie pointed me to Rick’s tips about how to manage blogger and blogging in general. I learned a lot from Rick, and he has never failed to almost immediately answer any question I have asked him via email with excellent instructions. I discovered in person a kind, funny, easy going man who is willing to spend time writing about stuff that many of us haven’t a clue about in a way that is understandable. There are times when Rick’s instructions get right to the point of some hidden trick and I really appreciate that he takes the time to put it out there.

Thanks, Rick.

Northern California Coast

We have been here in the fog, but even so, the town of Eureka seems rather drab. There are a lot of interesting people walking around, people who look like they have been in the same mode since the 60’s. Last night we decided to take an evening tour of the local co-op. North Coast Co-op has a huge mural on the street side facade, and is bigger than most major grocery stores. I love natural food stores, and while it wasn’t Trader Joe’s, it was bigger than some and filled with amazing stuff. Mo is at a loss in this environment, so I walked around explaining some of the lingo to her and some of the reasons for buying this or that instead of the everyday brands you get in a regular grocery store.

The produce was fantastic, and if our refrigerator wasn’t full I would have hauled tons of colorful stuff home. We can’t eat enough to support all the temptations so gorgeously displayed. We managed to get out of the store with some great looking green tea from China and two bottles of “Our Daily Red”, an organic red table wine with no sulfites. Keeps the migraines away for me. I love a good red wine, but will certainly settle for a daily red glass of this good stuff full of antioxidants and other good things. It was a fun way to spend a dark rainy evening in Eureka.

Today we are going to try out the Samoa Cookhouse, the last surviving lumber camp style cookhouse in the west, built in 1893. The meals are all served family style and breakfast today will be French toast, sausage, and who knows what else. There is a lumberjack museum with the cookhouse that should be entertaining. Another treat will be breakfast company, with some soil scientist friends of mine located at the Arcata Soil Survey Office who have agreed to meet us there this morning. Looking forward to it.

…

Later:

Our breakfast was wonderful, and visiting with Sue Azman made it even more so. I’m not sure if Mo enjoyed all the soil survey talk as much as I did, but we all had a good time talking about kayaking the coast. Sue is an avid sea kayaker and we had fun talking kayaks and possible trips. Back to camp in plenty of time to button up and we actually left the park at 12:01. Gas in Eureka was a whopping 3.35 per gallon, and we knew that in Fort Bragg it was only 2.99, so we only put 50 bucks in the MoHo to get us on down the road. Again, our travel day was a short 130 miles or so. BUT! What a trip it was!!

…

We traveled south on 101 for some distance before turning off on the alternate highway that travels 32 miles through the redwoods, called the Avenue of the Giants. It was a leisurely, meandering drive through huge trees and narrow roads, but with no traffic at all. Stopping at several of the auto tour sites for photos, and some short walks in the forest was refreshing. Once more, Abby wasn’t welcome on the trails, even on a leash, so Mo stayed in the MoHo so I could walk through the forest a bit and take pictures. I had been enjoying the subtle light on a pale yellow vine that seemed to be in many of the trees and wanted to photograph it. Closer inspection revealed the bane of my California soil survey life, poison oak! It was creeping at least 40 feet high into the trees, and covering the forest floor, mixed with the ferns and oxalis. Poison oak is ubiquitous in the Mother Lode where I worked, but I had no idea it was so prevalent in this high precipitation redwood forest. Ugh! I am extremely allergic and had to do a couple of hospital visits while working in California. It was one of the main reasons I was so glad to finally retire and get back home to Oregon.

At the terminus of the Avenue of the Giants, it wasn’t far to our turn west from 101 to Fort Bragg. Although Highway 1 is famous as one of the most beautiful scenic byways in the country, this part of “one” crossed the last of the coastal ranges via an incredibly curvy and steep road before arriving at the ocean cliffs a few miles north of Fort Bragg. I think this may have been the curviest road we have driven in the MoHo, and I’m glad Mo was the one doing the driving. Jeremy wasn’t too happy about the curves either, and he insisted on riding on the dash board, twisting and turning and trying to get comfortable. I tend to get car sick when it’s bad like this, but on this trip I remembered to bring my “sea bands”, wrist bands with knobs that create pressure on meridian points on the wrist. I was starting to get queasy when I put them on, and was afraid they wouldn’t work, but they did! Amazing little tool, these wrist bands. On the way down the hill we saw a flare and then a rolled over car with several people trying to turn it back upright. It all seemed a bit strange because there must have been eight people there and only 2 cars, the rollover and another car. Hmmm. Which car had that many people in it? They all looked a bit sheepish, and a bit strange. We didn’t stop.

At the bottom of the hill, a pickup in front of us pulled over and a poor girl jumped out and got sick right there. I realized then that I wasn’t sick at all! Not a bit. Thank you wrist bands! The last few miles of the route followed curving cliffs along the Pacific. The fog had lifted, and the clouds were heavy but not raining. On the horizon of the ocean, the light caught in a brilliant band among all the grays of sky and water.

We arrived at the Pomo RV Park and Campground around 4:30, and settled in to our very private, very quiet spot at the upper end of the campground. Here again we have good TV, good Wi-Fi, and power and water. All this excitement for a whopping 40. per night! No discounts here except Good Sam, which we don’t have. This park is also on the Camp Club USA list, but there are so many restrictions that we probably won’t manage a visit here when we could get a discount. Camping sites on this part of the coast are few and far between, and most consist of a parking lot surrounded by ugly stuff. Even the state parks are all 35 per night and don’t have the amenities. Tomorrow we will drive around a bit and see what is here. The prediction is for hard rain tonight and tomorrow but sun on Monday. Perfect! We can check everything out and plan for another kayak adventure Monday morning. Again, we are staying 3 nights. First night to settle in, then two days to explore before we move on to the next horizon.

Of course I took a gazillion photos, and even managed to delete a good number of them. You can see them linked here.

Shifting Gears Key West to Long Key Day 4

Photos of this day are here.

When we drove the Overseas Highway from Miami to Key West, the air wasn’t as clear as I might have liked, the skies were a bit murky. However, this Saturday morning we had gorgeous blue skies, warm temperatures, and balmy soft air. We took our time leaving the guest house, enjoying a leisurely morning walk to Camille’s, a little cafe that had received great reviews, especially for breakfast. As we walked toward the Southernmost Point on Simonton Street, we found more charming little conch houses (a term for any small frame wooden house in the keys) and another guest house completely hidden by gardens. I later read in Budget Travel that this guest house was one of a special few in the world. Breakfast at Camille’s was excellent, with banana walnut pancakes, real maple syrup, and fresh orange juice. yum again.

Back to the guest house, I took some photos of the house and grounds and we packed our belongings into the car (not touched in three days) and headed back north on the highway. With the car, we found parts of Key West that hadn’t been as easily reached on foot. We found Higgs Beach, Rest Beach, and the long and lovely Smathers Beach. I would have loved to have found these beaches earlier in our vacation, but there wasn’t enough time to really explore Key West any more than we did. If we can find a place for the motorhome, I can see us driving south in the winter and spending some quality time here kayaking, walking, and just relaxing.

On the way back north, we did see a couple of large state parks, and tried to check them out. Both parks charged $2.50 per person to enter, and neither would let us just ride through to check them out. From the outside, Bahia Honda State Park at MM37 looked wonderful, with a few large RV sites with some shade, and others without shade but with a waterfront view. Farther north, on Long Key, while parked along the entrance, we used the internet to check out Long Key State Park, also with wide spaces and beach front locations for several RV sites. We will definitely need to plan ahead, however, since they recommend getting reservations when they are first available, 11 months prior to your visit. It also isn’t cheap, with full hookup sites at $40 or more and no senior discount except for Florida residents. Still, I can see us planning this trip sometime in the next few years.

Crossing the famous “Seven Mile Bridge” was beautiful with such clear skies to brighten the day. Stopping at the wayside to walk the bridge a bit, I was again mesmerized by all the colors of turquoise. Pigeon Key, just a tiny spit of land in the middle of the bridge, was only accessible via a 4 mile walk across the bridge. A new home base waited in Long Key, so we opted for a short walk instead.

Arriving at the tiny village of Layton, on Long Key, we were a bit disconcerted to see that we were somewhat isolated. The delight of our nice room made up for everything, and we unpacked our belongings and enjoyed the space. It was great to have our own bathroom again!

After settling in, and realizing that the pace of this part of the trip would be a bit slower, we decided to drive to the rest of Islamorada and check out the villages. Islamorada is a collection of islands, separated by bridges, and all considered part of the community.

…

Checking out the reviews, we decided to try out the Island Grille. Voted Islamorada’s best waterfront dining, it didn’t disappoint. The ambiance was loud and festive, our table right on the waterfront, with a big fancy boat parked just a few feet from our table. The menu was crazy, and it took a long time to decide what to eat. Again, things weren’t cheap, so I decided to have an appetizer. I chose the “Tater Fondue”, a crazy mixture of crisp home-made potato chips made tantalizing with a balsamic drizzle, blue cheese and a hot blue cheese sauce, fresh finely chopped tomatoes, and scallions. It was the strangest combination I ever saw, and it was delicious!

…

Ambling back to our comfy lodge just in time for the sunset, it was the end of a perfectly lovely day.

Visit Dry Tortugas NP Day 3

Photos of the day are here.

…

We were excited about our planned ferry ride out to the Dry Tortugas National Park today. The tiny key, sometimes called the “Guardian of the Gulf” is about 70 miles west of Key West and only accessible by boat or sea plane. The group of tiny islands are famous for their bird life, but we were most excited about the clear waters and reportedly good snorkeling.

We booked our tickets on the Yankee Freedom when we first arrived in Key West, and even though the weather forecast called for clouds and rain, it was the only chance to go. The alarm rang at 6, time enough to walk to the docks in time for the 7:30 AM check in. Walking in the early morning darkness, we encountered a crew of workers cleaning up the street mess of the previous evening’s revels. The young man said that first a crew blows the debris into the streets, then another crew hoses down the sidewalks with disinfectant, and finally the street sweepers scoop it all up into trucks to be hauled away to the landfill. Comparing the evening party on Duval street to this early morning clean-up was eye-opening.

Once on board the Yankee Freedom we settled in to a table on the upper decks and enjoyed the included breakfast while we motored out of the harbor. It was a pretty morning, but as we continued west the haze and fog over the seas were a bit of a disappointment.

After almost three hours at sea, we arrived at Fort Jefferson. From a distance, it is apparent that the fort encompasses almost the entire island, with just a few spits of sand and coral around the edges. Built in the mid-1800’s , the historic fort was constructed to protect the Gulf of Mexico shipping lanes, and was used as a prison during the Civil War. Constructed from more than 16 million bricks, with walls that are 8 feet thick, the fort was never actually completed. One of the most well known prisoners was Dr Samuel Mudd, who was convicted of participating in the plot to kill Abraham Lincoln.

The islands were first discovered by Ponce De Leon in 1513 and named Las Tortugas because of the many turtles. It was called “Dry” because there was no fresh water on the islands. Our excursion included a tour of the fort and the guide told some great stories about the life of the more than 2000 people who lived there at one time. With the invention of the rifled cannon, the fort became obsolete because the thick walls could be penetrated. The Army abandoned the fort officially in 1974 and in 1908 Teddy Roosevelt established a wildlife refuge there to protect the many birds that used the tiny islands as a migratory resting place. It wasn’t until 1992 that Dry Tortugas became a National Park, one of the newest parks and one of the most remote.

The fort is an imposing structure, and is surrounded by a large moat. It seems a bit strange to have a moat surrounding a fort in the middle of the ocean, but it made for great photo opportunities, with lovely reflections of the bricks and the sea in the background. Originally the moat was planned as an outlet for sewage from inside the fort, but the design didn’t take into account the lack of high enough tides to carry the effluent out to sea. In this area, the tides are less than a foot. One of the many difficulties of living in the fort was the stench, and the salt that found it’s way into all the drinking water because of the poor design.

After our tour of the fort grounds, we went to one of the tiny beaches to snorkel along the moat wall and around some pilings. The reef was shallow and the water was moderately clear, but there were few fish to be seen. After some time we finally did see a few barracudas and some tiny silver fish in huge schools darting through the sandy channels among the corals. The water was cold as well, and after an hour or so, we had enough. We have our own snorkel gear, except for fins, and today we used the fins that were supplied along with the tour gear. The fins wore me out, and I don’t like using them at all, but Mo might decide to use them again. The biggest fish of the day was a giant grouper, estimated at more than 400 pounds, that we saw just lazing around near the pilings under the boat.

Lunch was provided with the trip as well, and it was really very good. As the boat left for Key West we found our upstairs table and settled in for the ride. This time our companions were an interesting family from the Midwest. I remember the woman most of all because she provided some crackers to me when I needed them most. I was sick, really uncomfortable with the rough ride home, and was freezing as well. I thought the trip back would never end. So much for me not getting sea sick anymore!

Once on shore, however, I recuperated quickly and enjoyed the walk home through town. We walked east on Simonton Street, another main road that we hadn’t managed to find previously. I saw a sign that said “Pelican Poop Shoppe” and couldn’t resist. What a magical find! Once inside the shop there were walls and walls of colorful metal sculptures, flags, flowers, fish, kitschy stuff but also quite lovely. A tiny sign led to the garden where a whole new world opened up before our eyes. The shop proprietor told the story of his father’s purchase of the building as a burned out, run down warehouse, and how he gutted it and rebuilt it. After 15 years of magic, the interior gardens have tropical plants that reach to the open sky, the old cistern is a deep reflecting pool, and the 21,000 square feet of living space around the garden houses 4 family members. It was a great example of the kind of artsy goofy people and places that can be hiding in Key West.

After that treat we ambled down to Whiteside Street, and feeling very hungry and tired, started looking for a place to eat. Sloppy Joe’s Bar in Key West is an icon, and we had passed it a couple of times on our previous walks. This time, however, we decided to brave the noise and crowds and go in for our supper. It was great, if a bit raunchy, bawdy, and very loud. I ordered the Sloppy Joe made famous in this very bar and it tasted just like a good sloppy joe should taste. We had a drink and listened to the very loud band singing a bit in between very dirty jokes and waved at the webcam. It was fun to do once, but we surely don’t have to do it again, and probably wouldn’t recommend the place to anyone.

Our day ended happily with a stroll back to our soft little blue and yellow room up the narrow staircase. Once again we were too tired to take advantage of the delightful little pool in the gardens below our window.