Armed and Blind

How cute is this little bugger?! Eating my lunch, watching a show on my computer, this little guy makes some noise about 20 feet away. He looked like some ugly rabbit until I realized what it was... Finally! An Armadillo that wasn't just roadkill. I followed him around with my camera for a while, he didn't seem to mind. Actually, at one point I was sitting, shooting away, and he comes closer and closer to me, nose in the dirt and leaves, looking for food. He gets all the way to my foot before I shift and he realizes I'm another living thing. He 'runs' away, which, in Armadillo, means he ran two feet, hopped in the air, ran a couple more feet, hopped again and changed direction mid-air, and strolled away. He didn't seem very concerned, but he wasn't taking any chances.

(He's shy...)

More animals of note include these itty-bitty deer. They're so cute! And again, not shy - do these animals know they're protected by the rangers in this small Texas state park?


I'd be browning them in a fire if I had the nerve. That's pretty callous, huh... I suppose I need to get some meat in my diet before I become an enemy to our Nation's Parks and Forests.

Finally, we go from protected and pristine to suburban and skittish:



I wonder if visitors to the East Coast are as interested in our groundhogs, porcupines, red squirrels and falcons?

"Didjer GPS malfunction?"

"What are you doing in Jackson?"

Good question. At the very least, I'm getting an oil change. I was waaay overdue. (Sorry Mark).

Everything checked out and I filled up my tank with 87 at $2.65. This is great for my budget - I'd initially price-checked my gas expenditures with a conservative $3.50/gal. I haven't hit those highs since before Virginia. Maybe in Florida...

So here I am, at a reststop in Texas that supplies free wi-fi. I am loving this state.

So, the Bayou was pretty cool. I liked Alabama for one of the reasons I love Vermont; the people there know what work is. Cotton fields, Pecan shellers, and Lord knows what I didn't see. And for the first time of many to come, (if you don't count my side-trip to Kentucky), I was driving into the sunset.

No, the GPS didn't malfunction; I was aiming for Jackson. The GPS did sustain a hefty crack on the screen that prevents me from hitting certain buttons; actually it's a lot worse than that, it hits buttons I didn't press, so I can spend 5 minutes trying to see the map and only ending up with Settings or Volume controls. Yippy. Could we make driving any more unsafe? It's still a useful little bugger, and with a little patience and a parking spot I can plug in routes, shops, fuel, etc.; but then as I'm driving if I dare hit the screen there's a 50-50 chance that the current route would be cancelled. That's okay, I'll just go to my "Recently Found" folder... no small task. A fully-functional GPS will be missed.

Meanwhile, it did take me to Jackson... although its choice of routes had been a bit questionable when I reached the boonies. This was a fun one:

Yeah, I was a bit concerned the road would just end. But it didn't. Brought me right into farm country.

So, New Orleans was a pretty neat town; cozy even. Driving in it was a nightmare, when I found myself smack in the middle of the French Quarter; and no less stressful when a bride and groom ride by on a "Just Married" bike, the wrong way down a one way, and my knuckles are white from clutching the steering wheel. Driving around downtown in the morning was a breeze - I've found that the most monstrous of cities become kittens on a Sunday morning... Except that, for a significant portion of the road, the traffic lights were off. I had to drive through a few accidents on my way to the I-10W ramp. Freaky.

If you look closely you can see an example of such an impending accident - this one was averted by cautious drivers in the SUV and van. Good on'ya.

Louisiana is a state under water. Well, I-10 is underwater. With brown, bubbling water at the bse of each of the tresses, I only became concerned when the traffic screeched to a hault. I was stuck in limbo, atop the swamps, for the better part of an hour. I also noticed a lot of dragon-flies buzzing about...only half of them were'nt dragon-flies at all, but strings of ash falling from the sky. Long, strandy bits, so I was quite certain that this wasn't a tell-tale sign of some fatal accident ahead, but more likely indicative of a burnpile, like some of the brush management I'd seen throughout the south so far. But there was no brush, no median, and no properties anywhere in sight. So basically I still don't know 'what the hell.' But I had time to think about it. And watch the bubbly waters below for signs of crocs - certainly something was creating a ripple down below, and constantly; but I reasoned that it was caused by some ancient lunkers, fooled into rising by the large ash that was falling and floating above them.

(A closer look at the trusses - did you see that ripple??)

So, I'm bound for San Antonio. Like I said, I'm liking this state - haven't seen any live armadillos yet, but I'll be at a National Forest, Rec Area or State Park tonight; I'll try and dig something up. No sight of rattlers or vicious-looking spiders either, so I'll be watching my step. I'll get more in depth on the wonders of Texas when I get a cup of coffee in front of me.

Goodbye to the Beautiful Bayou

And Greetings to the Warmth of Texas!

Keyed In

Yes, I also had to go to the Keys. Try out my snorkeling legs, go see Duval street, you know, the touristy stuff.

I sure as hell didn't do this, anyway:


So after having too-good of a time on Duval street, I crash at a Denny's/Holiday-Inn and am woken by the rain. Venturing out to catch another sunrise, I hear the strange yet familiar sound of a rooster crowing... apparently these things run wild through the streets of Key West!


The sunrise on the southernmost edge of the United States was pretty spectacular, even for being cloudy:


And there was a very appropriate rainbow over the open, casual, welcoming city:


But when dawn fully arrived, after trolling through the streets for random goods, I had to get the hell out of Key West, but still felt the need to explore the whole snorkel/beach thing. Eventually I found myself at Curry Hammock State Park. FYI, a 'hammock' is a thick stand of trees. I didn't know that.

The park was almost full, but they fit me in, and the site was, again, spectacular:


And if you aren't jealous yet, check out these apples:


I spent the day setting up camp and going for a short swim at the beach, hanging out with the hermit crabs. Later on I felt I embodied the personality of a hermit crab, sheltered by my tent, only my legs and arms in view, and feeling mighty skittish. I played music, read, and played music, having a dinner of oatmeal and wanting to stay away from all civilization. That night I fell asleep with a nearly full moon overhead, visible from my tent's ceiling window, and lighting over the ocean, visible from the other windows. Later on I would wake to more stormy weather, including bouts of rain that were quite intense, leading to pools of water in my tent and a full-on evacuation by 4:00 AM. Still, the car is not a comfortable place to sleep when the temperature is 90 and humid, and it was quite the disgruntled morning for this girl.

I snorkeled for about an hour on the parks' beach with no real luck, until I swam back to the area where I'd 'hung' with the hermits the day before, and as I scaled the rocks , sneaking by the fat idling birds, I saw two lobsters and a whole lot o' clown fish, more interested in me than I was in them. Finally I could leave this state knowing I'd accomplished what I'd set out to do. Well, not quite yet...

My favorite part:

It's true; the best spots in America can be viewed at 60 MPH as you're blowing by...

Moon Over My-Hammy for Me!

It was nice to reach Miami... The day after Orlando (et. al.) had found me rocketing down the heart of the state, knowing my newfound 'friend' wouldn't follow, and eventually trolling down the coast through Fort Lauderdale and Hollywood beaches. It was a rainy day and I didn't tary very long, especially in Hollywood, where childhood memories turned to sawdust the moment I stepped onto that Boardwalk. I'm not one for loungers, and feel especially uncomfortable coming across a group of men lounging on the beach; the best guess, always, is they're seeking some sandy eye-candy. Gross. Some people fear specific races. I fear a specific gender.

So I get my butt over to Miami but the house is locked and my Uncle won't return until the next day. I find a shady place to sleep and prattle down the road to my Grandmother's house in Miami Springs. Shaken by my latest encounter with humans, I try to relax and over-indulge in some bad television. The couch is comfy and there's a bed waiting for me, there's nothing more I could ask for. Maybe some internet access, but I find it here and there on the porch.

Hanging out with my Uncle was a treat. Turns out he was just IN Saint Augustine; his softball team from Westport, CT rented out a condominium for a tournament they were in. Had communication been a bit better, I'd have avoided the whole Anastasia catastrophe! But oh well, things happen for a reason, and I won't be making the same mistake twice (what mistake was that? Ahh yes, lingering). His softball team, the Slaterock, won second place. Here's my Uncle Bobby with a trophy glove from the ordeal:


He's also a hand-model. Can you tell he's done this kind of thing before?

Sure his hands are pretty, but they know how to work; like my mother, my Uncle is a massage therapist. Currently he works for several of the upscale spas in town, and brought me with on a tour of a "day in the life" of the rich folk. The bathroom in the spa was incredible

And I spent some time on the second-story pool, observing the Miami traffic beneath me.

But alas, I couldn't help but observe a poor woman begging from the Mercedes and BMWs waiting in a line of traffic below, which brought me to a stunning conclusion; I could never live like that. Yes it would be nice to wake up and fall asleep in the lap of luxury, but I could never pretend to be above my fellow people; it would be awfully hard to live so high above it all when there are so many struggling below.

My Uncle was quite entertaining though; we're talking about one of my mother's little brothers. My mother is a trip, crazy, but in a good way; spending time with her childhood playmate was a ball for me. He showed me footage of Hawaiin waves (holy expletive), made me some nice kona coffee, shared stories from his work and overall made my stay in south Florida a relaxing and inviting one. I chased around some lizards in the front and back yard:

And he took me to the only surf break in Miami beach:

Scoff if you will; I surely did. But I was also amused to see a cargo ship hauling the freights I'd so often seen on the highways:

I also tagged along to one of his softball games. Here he is in action:

Thanks Uncle Bobby! Literally. My Uncle also plays drums for a rock and roll band. And that very Alf is always an accompaniment.

More pictures of the house, just 'cus it brings me back (last time I was here I may have been 11 or 12...):

My Room

The House at Large

The Pink Flowers

Gorgeous Fleeting Craziness

A very interesting time into Georgia and Florida. I breezed through Georgia for the most part. Still unsure why? I mean, I did go through the heart of her; I kept trying the cities (Macon, Savannah) but was chased out by all the ruckus. Not a city girl. AND I could have sworn there'd be more road-signs directing traffic towards Peanuts, Pecans and Peaches... I was wary of going into a place called "WE'RE NUTS!" allbeit a cute pun, and that turned out to be the last sign for such a market. So, I didn't get any nuts. Nuts. But I will be headed back up through Alabama, I'm sure I'll come across something good.

So, in Waycross, Georgia, at an awesome little coffeeshop called Hotty Toddy, I had internet for just long enough to review cool spots and state parks along the coast of Florida. The first and best looking option for the hour was Anastasia State Park off Saint Augustine. Amazing place. 4 Miles of beach, a pier, a rental shop, beautiful palmettos everywhere, best looking campsite ever, pitching my tent over white sand.


With virtually no neighbors, I spent a good deal of time partying by myself and making dinner, with only a few fleeting pangs for want of company. I actually found myself falling asleep before the VP debate could even begin. Or maybe I was still blasting music and trying not to care at all about the political quagmire that has overwhelmed our country... Either way, you've heard about the rest of my evening in my sunrise report.

So, let's start in the morning, amidst the beautiful scenery, with the sun making its first appearances into the dimlit pink sky; a woman, fresh from a morning swim, crosses my path - well, actually, she stands between me and the glorious view until I've acknowledged her presence - and she initiates conversation. Usually I would be pretty annoyed at this most unwanted interruption, but in favor of 'getting out there' and 'meeting new people,' I went along with the whole thing. Apparently a veteran surfer and surfboard designer (Tom-Lee boards? Anybody? Anybody? No? Oh...), she had some interesting tales; being as socially-starved as I was (read: bored), I was in a unique position to be intrigued.

So, after talking through the whole damned sunset, she helped me take some footage of a tri-color heron doing some early morning fishing in the shallow tide.

TANGENT
Let me advise my readers right now; If you click on theses pictures, more often than not they get a helluvalot bigger. Go ahead. Try it. And while you're trying new things, take another look at this guy. I mistakenly identified him as a lizard. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a juvenile skink. Also on a tangent, did you know that there are lizards who have no legs? Yeah, I would call them snakes too, but they're not, they're Glass Lizards.

So, when a jogger scares the heron away, it's time for me to try and catch up on some sleep. I'm invited over to coffee and tea at this lady's tent in an hour, and I consider it. I go back to my site to strike the tent and straighten up the car, and the lady walks over to again request my presence at her tent for 'hot liquids' and to meet the nice park rangers she'd met. Now I begin to rethink my 'convenient' location to the bathroom - it certainly strips away the privacy. I tell her I'll come, and I mean it; I had already made up my mind, despite her weird ways; I know I'll leave her and be off on my own adventure soon enough. Free coffee sounds wonderful, especilly before I head down the coast to check out the surf spots she'd told me about during our conversations on the beach.

I stroll over to her site and am offered some nice hot tea. She's got one of those single-coffee-doers and I don't want to put her out. As a side-note, I could feel the burn from that first sip of tea for the next 36 hours...

In conversation with myself and the park ranger(s), she speaks of her plans to visit Saint Augustine for some olde-tyme Spanish food and a glorious chocolate store. The chocolate store peaks my attention, and she invites me to follow her to the city. She also stresses that she wants to be my Sacajawea and bring me to Flagler Beach to check out the swell. She's got an ounce of Native American blood that makes her very proud. I think it's sweet, but all the while I know that I have to shake her and regain my solitude; after I experience the city.

And experience the 'city' I did - the historic city, where people were dressed in 1700's gear and the food was delectable. Before we made it that far, though, she introduced me to this old guy, who she'd met earlier:



And this big feller (gopher tortoise, by my best estimation):


While we 'met with' the turtle, a transient she had befriended in the city the day before pedaled by, and she invited him over. He looked like a pirate and wielded a guitar, so aside from being skeptical as hell about hanging out with this man, I was somewhat comforted by the fact that he wasn't getting into my car. So he joined us in the city. He actually proved to be much more interesting company than she was; when we were asked by the 1700's dressed tavern maiden where we were from, he jubilantly replied "under the bridge." Eventually I hear him play music with another old hobo, and that was nice.

All 'amped up' on leading me down the coast, this lady is quickly becoming hard to shake. I had planned to lose her in traffic after the Spanish food and the chocolate store, but tragically I hit a huge obstacle - apparently, though both of us were camping at the State Park, only I had brought a cooler, a necessary element in keeping "our" chocolates cool for later down the road. So she puts her chocolates in my car! She hadn't done anything to cross me yet, I just yearned for solitude - I never had any intentions of stealing her goods... And this lady is so intent on leading me on my adventures that she's pulling over anytime a car gets between us, and driving 5 below the speed limit to boot. Somehow it got late in the day, and all day-dreams of catching a wave in Florida had dissipated. I tried to photograph the sunset at 60 MPH.


It was nice to say goodnight to the same sun I'd said good morning to, although in a much different state of mind; in the morning I had been as free as one of those birds and as careless as the idle fisherman, and at the present time I was seeking the escape route that would bring me back to such peaceful times.

We make it to Flagler where live music abounds, putting us on the top deck of a bar overlooking the beach. All suspicions on this lady's sanity are soon proven sturdy by her own alcoholism; she freaked when we couldn't order a certain shot. Not being a huge fan of the alcohol, I'm unphased by such a letdown, but she wouldn't have it, causing a semi-scene and making my anxiety for flight a little more urgent. After I calm her down and the mood returns to a high-pitched normal, she continues bonding with me, and at some point calls me her twin sister from a different mother...

Yeah, a terrifying thought, even with her dentures in..

A few rounds later (although I secretly poured out a few of my beeers while she wasn't looking, well aware of the late-night highway scramble I had before me), she takes me down the road to a freebie campground where we could spend the night. So immediately I start tapping away at my GPS looking for that escape route - but we stop too short! I hesitate to get out of my car, but she's pacing around; again she has a semi-melt down, exclaiming that she doesn't feel I'll approve of the sites she has to offer. I calm her by feigning confidence in the spot she'd like the most, and, sharing her relief, we continue down the road. More tapping on the GPS, and I discover that I-95 is one right turn and a windy road away from my current locale.

So she puts on her left blinker. I put on my left blinker. She comes to a full stop and takes a left turn. I come to a full stop looking to take a left turn. She continues slowly down the road, brake lights flashing at her jerky driving, and I feign a left. When her brake-foot relaxes and the red light disappears, I swoop a right and go, looking back every half second and noting her abrupt stop and idling. I do not see her turn around as I pass the nearest corner. To add to the drama, as take the corner, a pick-up truck slows me right down, coasting between me and my I-95 retreat. Having a few drinks under my belt and not wanting to test the law (though not nearly enough to declare 'impairment,' I didn't want to take the risk), the slowest high-speed chase you'd ever imagine ensued. At least in my mind. And even when I got to the ramp and entered anonymity, I still felt like she was close behind. Vermont plates are not easy to hide in a sea of white, orange and green Gators.

I didn't stop until I reached Orlando. You wouldn't believe the traffic in Orlando at 3:00 AM on a Friday night.

This is why I'm a fricken' recluse... you meet crazy people like this and your solitude is justified in a hurry. I was elated to hit the city limits, call that a first.

Here's to family in Miami, a safe-haven from the madness of strange strangers.

Kinnakeet

Kinnakeet rocks. That's Avon, North Carolina, an island town(ish) that straddles the Cape Hatteras National Seashore. Through great contacts (Johnny, you're fricken awesome) I found some amazing people, who were nice enough to let me stay the week and awesome enough to show me the real Kinnakeet, beyond what most of the tourists see.

Wonderful from the first day - the lovely Grace Souter took me out and about to see the town and to test out my surfing legs. Down at Billy Mitchell the sets were rythmic and rideable, even for a beginner. I mean, not that I actually physically 'rode' on my first day... No, no no, not at all. But I nearly stood a handful of times, and didn't do the whole 'belly to knee' thing, which people apparently tend to do. Anyway, that doesn't matter, what matters is, the very first time we paddled out, no more than 20 feet in the distance a pair of dolphins surfaced and did their beautiful dolphiny thing. Good God. It was incredible. I could not believe I was in North Carolina! After that I notice the stingrays jumping out of the water in every direction, truly amazing! If this is what surfing is (and apparently waiting IS the bulk), count me in.


The next day in the water was stormier, but with a good shove from Justin Souter, I was finally able to pop-up and ride a wave to its completion. Hell yeah. No problem. At first it seemed like I was wobbly and about to topple, but then I somehow realized how sturdy the board beneath me felt, and I was snowboarding on thawed molecules. Ridiculously fun. But hell, just being out there in the water is fun!

The storms hit, which was a great and windy time, and like a fool I follow the locals to go body surfing. Very, very glad I did. As much as it kicked my ass (very, very much). Trying to tackle the waves (but being tackled in turn), enhances your perspective on just how powerful the ocean is. I quit early, and it turns out that later on down the tide the group I was with had to pull some struggling kid out of the water. (I say 'kid,' but it was easily a 20-something). Good work guys!


More hanging out in a beach-town ensued, with some incredibly nice and crazy people. I also met Robin-Hood. Nice shot, Sammy.

Oh yeah, and we saw some Kite-Surfers. There wasn't a good time for me to try it myself, but there's always next time. Almost everyone I met was a kite-surfing instructor at one time or another in their lives. What we see below is Justin's friend Ty.

Bad. Ass.

It was sad to leave a place with faces that had grown so familiar, but I must travel on. The ferries weren't so bad, except for the 2+ hour ride - one of the ferry employees was hitting on me (but I got to ride up in the bridge for a bit and check out the navigation equipment), and I got a phone number from a couple of surfer/fisher guys who were headed to the Morehead City area. Funny thing about that number, it was printed on the back of a receipt from Lowe's, which contained such items as tape, a utility knife and a titanium blade. I know I may be reading too much into this, but needless to say I did not follow up on their offer for a free place to stay.

A huge thank you to Justin & Grace Souter, two wonderful people who opened their arms so graciously to a relative stranger. You guys rock.

Sunrise

I'm sitting in my car overlooking the Atlantic Ocean in Anastasia State Park, Florida.

6:14 AM.

Who knew sunrise wasn't until 6:54?!

I was sleeping peaceful, lost in some dream world, where my buddy Larry showed up in Vermont with a 'fro... Definitely a weird dream, but everyone was there and it was good. Right as Larry says "Hi Jaime," I'm immediately woken by the footsteps of a fleet of racoons bombarding my campsite. Thanks for the 'heads-up' Larry.

So, feeling strangely rejuvenated at 5:30 AM, and with nothing better to do, I decided to go watch the sunrise.

Last Night's Sunset ->

Actually, I had considered doing as much last night when I saw the sunset behind a palm in the West. I'd honestly thought to myself "isn't it a shame I wouldn't be up to see an Atlantic sunrise...?'

6:21 AM.

Gives me time to research any bidding prospects on uShip.com. There's a few puppies I may befriend along the Texas way. Earn me some gas money!

6:30 AM.

And then....

Hello, Sun.