Adventure

If you’re not quite sure that it is safe to be doing something that you are doing, then you are on an adventure.

I had two such adventures in Big Cypress National Preserve.

Big Cypress is a sister to the Everglades National Park. They share a border along the northern part of the national park and many of the same features. 

Like alligators.

We hadn’t planned to go to Big Cypress. We were supposed to relocate to a nice, safe trailer park right after the Everglades trip. But we were nearby, there was a place to park, and it was someplace we had never seen before. What better reason to stop and see it?

 My first adventure blindsided me. I didn’t see it coming. We had planned on going on a tram tour of Shark Valley. That sounded nice and safe to me, so I was all for it. Except when we got there, we discovered that the route could be biked or walked.

Normally, biking is not a particularly dangerous sport, unless it’s on the streets of Ottawa. But the signs posted at the tram center indicated the length of ride, 15 miles or so, and the lack of shade. We hadn’t planned for this activity, but we did have drinking water and bikes with us. I mean, honestly, who doesn’t always carry their bikes and their canoe everywhere they go? But I had no sunscreen as the signs advised. This was dangerous in my mind, and I wasn’t entirely sure we should be doing it.

But we were on an adventure.

So off we biked, on a paved trail along a deep canal. We saw lots of big fish (but had left the fishing pole back at the truck, much to hubbys’s chagrin) and quite a few wading birds in the water. 













And many, many alligators sunning themselves on the grass verge between the canal and the pavement. Seemingly totally unconcerned by the people, bicycles and trams whizzing by their noses or tails.

We had a break 7 miles in, at an observation tower, where you rest your legs by walking up a ramp to an elevation of about 100 feet. I wasn’t sure I should do that, either, because I might not have the muscles left to peddle my way back to the tram station.

But we were on an adventure.

I did make it to the top, and I even survived the bike ride back just a little more sun tanned than when I started. A successful adventure!

I could see the second adventure coming. It gave me something to fret over for a full day.

Hubby wanted to paddle the Turner River canoe trail. 

Rivers down here are nothing like the rivers in Canada. They don’t meander alongside fields and through pretty forests with defined landmarks so you know where you are. 

No, they twist and turn around confusing clumps of tall sawgrass and through low tunnels of mangrove roots.

I wasn’t sure I should be doing this. This particular canoe trail did not even have the markers every few feet like the last one we were on, when we still managed to get lost a couple of times!

But we were on an adventure.

So we took the canoe off the truck and locked the bikes inside. I mean, really, who doesn’t travel like this?

We paddled down the first part of the river, strewn with alligators basking on top of the river grass. 














We played pinball machine with the canoe in the mangroves, bouncing the boat off the roots during the turns, and bending low to be able to pass by the branches that were only 2 feet off the surface of the water. 

In some spots, there was very little place to put the paddle in the water. It was easier to use the branches and roots around us to pull us through the obstacles.

It wasn’t comfortable, but it was an adventure.

And when we had made it safely back to the trailhead and the truck, I realized that it had been a lot of fun.

For an adventure.

W

Bottom Up

We believe in working our way up in the world. Or at least it seems that way this year.  

We started out on the first of December at the bottom of the Everglades, had some adventures, and after enjoying the full length of its paved road over 2 weeks, spent a day along its northern border.

Why change a good plan? So that’s how we approached the Florida Keys. Go straight to the bottom and work our way up.

Many people have told us that you can “do the Keys in a day”. A couple of hours down, a couple back. 
I don’t think they have been there in a while.

Out of the 126 miles length of the Keys, it took us over 2 hours to do only the first 96 miles. No stopping. The traffic was steady, and the speed limit was 45 for most of the way. And boy, was there traffic. This is like a really, really, long town with only one main street. 




It certainly wasn’t all ocean vistas all the way along, like I had thought. There are a lot of residential and business areas interspersed with bridges with good views.

We took a chance on a campsite at the most southern state park, thinking that since we only had a tent they could fit us in somewhere. Previous research had told us that RV spots were hard to come by in the Keys without reserving a year in advance, so we did not bring the trailer. It turned out that we were able to come in without a reservation for just one night, but they did not have tent specific sites. We had to put up our tent on RV sites. On gravel.  On hard, sharp gravel. Coral gravel, to be specific. That’s what they have in the Keys.

It took us an hour to drive the last 30 miles to get to Key West. Then we got the bikes out.

Key West is a very bike friendly town. It doesn’t have any bike lanes, but it does have bicycles and scooters and pedestrians everywhere. 

And chickens, too, for some reason. So drivers, by necessity, have to go slow.

It’s also very much a party town.

The main street is lined with pubs and bars and restaurants. Mallory Square, beside the western pier, is party central at sunset. 










We moved along with the crowd, passing vendors and buskers, and got to the waterfront just in time. 

As a group, we watched the sun go down over the Gulf of Mexico, and then the buskers and noisemakers started up again.

The next two days were spent working our way slowly north. 

We went looking for the petite Key deer, about half the size of our northern species. Somehow they manage to survive in a residential area just off the main road.

There is not a lot of wilderness on this narrow series of coral islands, but we found colourful iguanas in the trees and enjoyed a visit to a dolphin research center.

We also enjoyed watching parrotfish with their bright blue mouth picking algae off the rocks along the coast.

We woke up early on the last morning, bothered by the little sand gnats that had gotten into our tent, and decided to leave the bugs behind and go for a paddle. So, within a day and a half, we went from watching the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico, to watching the sun rise while paddling our canoe over the Atlantic.

It’s easier to travel sideways on the Keys than from bottom to top.

W

River of Grass

Fresh Water. It is everywhere here. It is not only the life blood of the Everglades, it IS the Everglades.

We were expecting a swamp, with still, dark waters and alligators.

We found a river, 50 miles wide and about 6 inches deep, of clear, fresh water and full of grass. And the occasional alligator.

The river has small islands, sometimes barely inches out of the water, surrounded by mangroves and covered in trees. But the river and its grass and its ever-present wading birds, is all around.






 It flows softly towards the Gulf of Mexico and into Florida Bay, a saltwater body of water that is almost as shallow as the river itself. 

At low tide, much of the bay is a mudflat.

There really is very little in the way of elevation change in the entire area. Even the tallest islands in the river are only 4 feet over sea level.

We started our Everglades adventure in the far south part of the park. We even paddled Florida Bay, fishing along the mangroves that mark the shoreline, and almost got stuck in the rising mud flat when the tide lowered.

Inland, – a nebulous term here indeed – the river has a few deeper spots, called ponds. A few of the fish from one pond were unlucky enough to catch the bait my hubby dangled for them. As soon as we noticed the “floating log” nearby that was drifting closer with eyes intent on our stringer catch, we hauled them in and relocated ourselves.

There are marked paddling trails through some of the larger mangrove stands. It was a lure we couldn’t resist.  The trails are marked with white PVC pipes sticking out of the water. But when you navigate the mangrove tunnels to looking for those pipes, some of them are not immediately obvious. In fact, we managed to get lost at least twice on our first trail. The key is to go back to the last marker you saw, and paddle in circles around the area until you find the next. It takes about an hour to paddle one mile in those conditions.

It was much easier canoeing on the river portion of the paddling trails. Pretty much a straight line from one pole to the next. Easy!

The mangrove mazes and the alligators are not the only hazard in this park. Black vultures sit in the parking lots, waiting for victims to leave their car alone while they paddle or go inside visitor centers. The birds walk around, atop the lonely vehicle, terrorizing it by pecking at the tires or worse, they perch on the roof and destroy the rubber seals of the doors or wiper blades.

At least they warn you. Sometimes they even supply tarps to put over your car.

The vultures, alligators, mudflats and the occasional encounter with a snake we found tolerable. The mosquitoes we didn’t. The first campground we stayed in, at the bottom of the park, was barely occupied. Now we understand why. We only lasted 5 days there before we moved to the more northern campground. It is closer to the Miami sprawl, but farther from the bugs.

That’s okay. Miami is just another jungle to explore.

W

Swamp Angels

We met the most hated and feared creature in the Florida Everglades soon after we arrived.

And we naively thought that we could enter its environment without caution or protective gear.

We were wrong.  And it cost us in blood.

So now we leave our trailer swathed in mosquito netting and bug jackets.

Raid and Off, once despised, are our new best friends.

We dash back into the sanctuary of our trailer, quickly closing the door, and then watch the black “swamp angels” that rode in on our backs dance along the ceiling. Once you hit them, they leave a splat of red blood on our white vinyl.

But it was our choice to go right to the bottom of the Everglades. We chose the farthest point on the road, the most southern spot on the country’s mainland, overlooking Florida Bay on the Gulf of Mexico. Why do anything halfway?

Indeed, we could have stayed at the first campground we passed. Just inside the boundaries of the park, we did stop there to fill up on clean water. That was where hubby struggled to close the drain on the fresh water tank which was left open when we winterized in Canada. No bugs of any kind bothered us at that campground.

But we wanted to see the real Everglades, so we drove on to the Flamingo Campground, deep inside the national park.

The swamp mosquitoes, or “angels” – not my choice of name, believe me – have smaller wings that are not bothered by the stiff bay breezes. These creatures influence every activity we do. Cooking is no longer comfortably done outside. Most hiking is not recommended at this time of year, and paddling is only bug free when you are on the bay. We did take a couple of bike rides along the park road, but boy! You had to boogie to outrace those monsters.

They say the mosquitoes are less (but never absent) in February.  That’s one of the reasons that the first 3 months of the year are the busiest down here. But we will be gone by then. And for once, I’m glad this particular side trip has an ending.

I know I’m being a wimp, but I’m tired of hearing the angels singing in my ears.

W

Opportunity

We had a window of opportunity.

With 6 new tires, 6 new brakes, and nothing else needing work on our trailer, we could leave Canada a day or two earlier than planned. 

American Thanksgiving, with its associated traffic, was a couple of days away.  

A Canadian snowstorm was coming in one.

We don’t normally like long days of travel. Pulling a trailer down the interstates alongside big tractor trailers and going through cities with little cars zigzagging unexpectedly in front of us can be tiring and stressful. To me anyway.

Plus you miss lots of interesting areas as you roll on by.

But this opportunity was too good to miss. The weather was good, and wasn’t going to stay that way. So we pointed our nose south, and didn’t look back. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.

This was the first time that we had crossed the border at the Ambassador Bridge in Detroit. It isn’t an especially easy crossing. There was the stop and go traffic of Windsor before the bridge, and a misleading sign directing cars and RVs along one blissfully quiet lane only to discover that we had to merge back into the same truck traffic later.

The scowling border guard threatened us with a $500 fine, confiscating of our truck if we had any undeclared meat, fruit, or vegetables and then let us pass after our wide eyed disavowals. Thank goodness we had given away our frozen packages of chili back at the trailer service center.

Once on the I-75 and heading south, we were golden. The roads in Michigan were rough, but the weather was perfect. We took the time to visit the Airstream factory in Ohio looking for some specialized parts, but other than that, we didn’t slow down until we hit Cincinnati. And then the late afternoon rush hour traffic did that for us.

At least when we did stop for the night, at an all night truck stop, we were beyond the snow and the below freezing temperatures.

The next day was one I didn’t even know existed: Thanksgiving Eve. But here in the States, that’s a real thing. And it turns out to be the busiest travel day of the year. Businesses close early, and everyone rushes to where they want to be on Thanksgiving – one day early. We expected the real Thanksgiving Day to be the road closure, but we were mistaken by one day. 

So we struggled through the day in bumper to bumper-car traffic and reached a campground just south of Atlanta to rest and recuperate for a few days.

Wait. Did I say rest? But we have not stayed in Atlanta before, so “resting” is done on our feet, checking out the tourist areas.

We visited the World of Coca-Cola, which was extremely busy on Black Friday.  Isn’t everyone supposed to be shopping? I couldn’t believe how many people wanted to go through a building holding the history and antiquities of a product that was 130 years old. But hey, we were there, too.

And we really enjoyed the old TV advertisements playing in the theatre. Oh, and all the free samples at the end, too.

Our first tourist stop of the city was to see the Georgia Aquarium. They have one humongous tank there that you can see from many different windows and angles, including a walking tunnel along the bottom of it. 

And that is where they keep the whale sharks. Huge gentle giants in among the manta rays, green turtles and scores of fish species.

And for some reason, we wanted seafood for dinner that night.

That was an opportunity that we wouldn’t ignore as well.

W

Home Renovations

Anyone that has been following this blog for the last 5 years knows that we no longer have a house. And that we willingly offer our skills and labour to our friends and family for work that needs to be done on their homes.

I have often said, since we don’t have a house to work on, we can work on yours.

However, that was put to a lie this week.  This week we undertook kitchen renovations in our own home – our 34’ Airstream trailer.

It started last fall.  The kitchen faucet started leaking from its base and needed to be replaced. Hubby said that he would replace it after the winter, since we were planning on spending the cold months in a house up here in Ontario.

It’s not as if he was taking the winter off – he had another project on the go involving fixing up an older trailer.

Spring came, and as promised, a brand new faucet was purchased and hubby removed the old one. To find that the sink underneath had rusted out after 21 years of life. Yeah, some days, I feel like that, too.

That started the project of finding another sink to fit that space.  It really wasn’t that hard to find, but it was not available anywhere close by, so had to be ordered online. While we were waiting for the sink to arrive, we looked at the condition of the similarly aged countertop. Well, why not? If the sink has to come out anyway….

This time we found a local supplier, but because of the RV dimensions, it needed to be cut to fit. Another two week wait...

Meanwhile, we have been living in this lovely trailer with no kitchen faucet. So washing of vegetables has to be done in the bathroom sink, and hot water for dishes has to be carried back to the kitchen. 

The benefit of a trailer is that the two rooms are only 6 feet apart. I can put up with that for a couple of weeks.

Finally the counter arrives! Out comes the sink. Out comes everything under the sink and several of the cabinet’s drawers. Out comes the stove… oh wait. We don’t have a plug for the propane line feeding the stove. Oh well. Turn off the propane. Surely it will only be a day. Or two. Of course, it also means no hot water for that time as well. Sigh.

We had a nice sunny day to remove the old counter. It meant hubby could use the outside deck as a workshop, putting up sawhorses to hold the countertops. Measurements were taken, and retaken, and then taken again.  Several times we were in and out of that tiny little space that is my kitchen.

Matters were complicated by a guest that stayed with us for a few days. This Australian Shepherd seemed to think that the best place to be was underfoot. And she’s big enough that when she lies down, it means the whole hallway is blocked. That made it interesting when the new countertop was continually in and out of the kitchen for fitting and cutting. 

So the dog and I went for long walks.

By the end of the day, the counter was in and secured, the stove squeezed into its proper place and the propane line hooked up. Yippee, we have hot water at the end of Day one!

Now begins the job of installing the sink. While the actual dimensions around the top of the sink are the same as the old one (don’t forget, we hadn’t originally planned on the new countertop), the new sink bowls are a good 4 inches deeper. This means re-plumbing the drainage lines. It also means visiting hardware stores to get all the parts and pieces necessary. And once out shopping, there are always groceries and other assorted things to pick up.

So ends Day Two.

Back to the hardware store we go the next morning. Seems we missed a vital component the first time. For certain, this will only be a quick trip in and out! Well, okay, maybe one extra stop at Bulk Barn. 

And a drug store. I think hubby is getting a headache.

Things start to look promising. Like the counter, the sink goes in and out of its allotted spot several times over the day. Another emergency trip to the hardware store is taken. This time, hubby hopes to save time by just getting me to go alone. The next half hour is spent trying to explain to me what is required. My “deer in the headlights” look should assure him that I fully understand. He gives up and goes with me. Day Three is finally over.

At least for me it was. I was exhausted. Dear hubby stayed up most of the night working on the plumbing and caulking. When I got up on Day Four, I had a sink installed. It was held down with the heaviest moveable objects he could find to keep the sink anchored until the caulking set.  Minor adjustments to the drain lines and the final caulking were accomplished before breakfast, and cabinets could be restored to their former full status. Tools were put away, and I had a beautiful new kitchen!

I really don’t understand how my hubby can do all the work of a renovation like this, and yet I am the one that is worn-out by the end of it. 

Before

After

W

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

I know that I stole the title of this blog from a movie, but it just so perfectly describes our trip home.

For some reason known only to the gods of travel, we were unable to get any flight out of San Francisco in the daytime.  And the one that we could afford had an extra two stops before it landed us in Ottawa. So this “early to bed, early to rise “person gave up what little health, wealth, and wisdom she had left to board a plane shortly after midnight.

Air travel has changed. Gone are the days of being pampered by an air hostess, offered treats and pillows. Nowadays, pillows are for the first class passengers only. I felt lucky to find a tiny, thin blanket in a plastic bag thrown carelessly onto my seat when I arrived. And I must have missed the beverage cart during my half hour nap, because I received absolutely no refreshments through the 3 hour flight.

I did enjoy watching the sun rise rapidly towards us in the morning, and through the magic of time zones we landed in Minnesota in time for breakfast.

At the beginning, I had been a little concerned about this hopscotch flight across the country. On our reverse trip west, in reasonable daylight hours, our first flight was delayed due to mechanical problems. So we missed the next two flights, but were offered a new and more direct option, which would have turned out well except that plane also sat at the gate receiving emergency resuscitation before we could leave. Again.

But this midnight gamble paid off. All flights went smoothly and all connections were made without any mad dashes down the airport concourse. We even had time for meals in between. Since they obviously aren’t offered on the planes anymore. But it lent the trip a unique flavour: breakfast in Minneapolis, and lunch in Detroit.

We landed in Ottawa just before supper time. As a new treat, we had booked a train ride from Ottawa to Kingston. It had been years since I rode a train, and I was looking forward to the experience.  I even expected to enjoy supper in the dining car on the last leisurely leg home. Guess what?  Train travel ain’t what it used to be, either. Gone are the glamorous days of luxury and ease. Why drag a dining car down the tracks for the passengers’ enjoyment when a “snack cart” would do? Instead of hot meals, let’s offer a sandwich! I’m sure there was some bean counter involved in that decision. Have you noticed the drop in rail passengers? Hmmmm...

Oh well.  At least wine and beer is offered on the menu, and a cheese plate, however tiny. That at least is not a bad way to end a very long day.

So it was disappointing to be told that they had run out of wine. It must have been the French indulgence, since that particular train originated in Montreal and we got on in Ottawa. The rail executives making the supply decisions obviously didn’t think this through.

Our very last leg before a real bed was the automobile. Or in our case, our truck, graciously driven by my brother-in-law coming to pick us up at the station in Kingston.  Except he didn’t make it. Our truck, miffed at being left out of our recent trip, flashed red warning lights in his eyes just after he had driven too far from home to walk back. This wasn’t a subtle hint that maybe he should turn around and go back. No, no. This was a firm “STOP ENGINE” warning. So he did. At the side of the road.

Thank goodness for cell phones.

We were met at the train by a different member of the family, but we were met. And we all made it to our beds that night, although much later than originally expected. The truck was towed to a repair shop and the not-so-dire problem fixed the next day.

Ah, adventure. By planes, trains, and automobiles.

W

Spring Break

Mother Nature took a hissy fit this spring. There was more snow in March and April than we had all winter.  So to escape this very Canadian temper tantrum, we flew off for a month to California.

Now normally when one is heading for a Spring Break in California, one would pack shorts and suntan lotion. We pack tools and paint clothes.

Guess we always did take the road less travelled.

This is our third go-around in the San Francisco area since we retired. We are lucky to have family living here, and have enjoyed a lot of the touristy things the place has to offer. We have toured Napa Valley (a particular favourite of mine), eaten oysters by Bodega Bay, crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, and walked up the famous steep streets of the city. But for this trip we have other priorities.

Since we sold off all real estate holdings seven years ago now, we are very obliging about helping out family members still bound to the ball and chain of home maintenance. It doesn’t seem to be so much of a hardship to paint another person’s walls when you are not fretting about what should have been painted in your own home, had you gotten around to it.

So we have painted, and replaced carpeting, and fixed the various things that always need to be fixed in a house.

Again, we have turned my sister-in-law’s house upside down. 

In order to paint and re-carpet bedrooms, someone has to be moved out of it. It isn’t as though we have an extra bedroom to play musical beds with, either.  We invited a nephew who was in-between jobs to stay and play with us, and then kicked him and his belongings out of his room a few days in. At least we were fair. Hubby and I also had our turn at trying to find our luggage in amongst the relocated furniture and linens. And so did the poor beleaguered owner of the house.

To say that my husband is enthusiastic about projects like this is understating the matter.  He attacks these things like a football player tackles the opposition. We always start out with a well defined plan and specified improvements that could easily be accomplished in our time schedule. Yet even before the first goals are achieved, other things seem to come up that are important, too. 

So instead of merely having her upstairs redecorated, my dear sister-in-law now has a new kitchen sink and the main water shutoff valve to the house replaced. 

The front patio, started many years ago by her late husband, is now finished and new motion sensor lights adorn the outside walls.

But alongside these multiple projects, we also had summer without enduring a fickle Canadian spring. The weather was usually sunny and warm. Jackets were optional, and only occasionally worn with the shorts and flip flops that were our daily uniform. The landscaping that we slaved over four years earlier has come to maturity, with masses of flowers creating a colourful carpet in the garden we built.

And we had one fun day in San Francisco, playing tourist. We enjoyed a stop at the Golden Gate Bridge in the morning, clam chowder in a bread bowl along the Fisherman’s Wharf, and a visit to the Bay Aquarium before giving up the pretence of being tourists and joining the rush hour crush heading back home.

We are flying back into Canada in the first week of May. With luck, Mother Nature has matured into a more reasonable version of spring. We are more than eager to pull our Airstream out of her winter home and get her ready for summer.

It’s time to get our own house in order.

W