1-24-14 - Simmer Down

As I sit in the van with my bare feet out the window, the sun warms my skin and settles into my bones. Jax is laying in the grass outside napping, moving only to nip at the occasional fly that gets too bold. Dave is flopped on the bed, clean shaven and looking handsome, staring out the window daydreaming. My mental reflex kicks in and I start running down the list of things I need to do. It goes:

1. Think about things you need to do.

2. Draw a blank.

3. Smile contentedly.

4. Commence to simmering down.

We are at Middleton Fish Camp on the shores of Blue Cypress Lake. It's just north of Lake Ocheechobee, tucked far away from towns and highways. The owners of the camp are a couple in their 90's who have had the business for 40 years and counting. It's the only thing for miles around, a small bait shop selling shiners and worms. Outside is a covered porch with some worn rocking chairs and old patio furniture where you can sit and pass the time when the fishing's slow. On a choice cushion an huge old boxer/pitbull mix named Princess naps the day away, only waking up to inspect guests to the shop. If they pass muster, they get the honor of a lick on the hand before she settles back down on her cushion with a sigh.

The pace of life here is slow and steady. Anyone you pass will flag you down for a chat about nothing much at all. The paved road to the area just went in 5 years ago, so it's still a well kept secret. Two men in a golfcart stop and say hello as I peddle past on my bike, and proudly tell me it's the most beautiful place in the world. They both are born and raised here and wouldn't have it any other way. One proudly shows me a picture of his grandmother, who just turned 92 years old and looks as lively as a firecracker. "Ain't she something?" He says proudly "It's the lake water that does it. Keeps ya strong."

We're parked on a narrow strip of grass with forest on one side and a small canal, edged by swamp, on the other. The lake shore is a stone's throw away, and we can see whitecaps breaking beyond the shelter of the trees. The canal is black water topped with little green water lilies. Bluegill and crappie break the surface at all hours.

 I try my luck at catching some, but they're wise to my ways and stay away from my worm and bobber. I remember back to watching my grandpa tie flies and decide to try my hand. I find some black string, a small scrap of Velcro, and a turkey vulture feather, and do my best. 

Surprisingly it turns out good and looks quite close to the large black insects in the area. I throw it out and get a nibble, but the line breaks instantly. 

I decide to let the fish be and simply pass the time by throwing bits of gingersnap cookie into the water, where little fingerlings fight over it eagerly. 

The blue herons and robins have followed us here to Florida! The  Great Blue Herons patrol the waters like feathered  pterodactyls. Their wingspan is massive, close to 6', and when disturbed they rend the silence with an unbelievable Saurian squawk. It's entrancing to watch them stand perfectly still for what seems like eternity, their piercing golden eyes scouting for unsuspecting fish beneath the water. Alongside them are small white egrets, roseate spoonbills, and some type of smaller heron, a dusty dark blue.

Outside the bathroom I find these little guys, a sleepy gecko and a moth the color of pink lemonade.

At night we make dinner while the crickets and frogs start up their buzzing orchestra. The nights are crystal clear and I spin the front seat around and lean it back all the way, staring up into the sky, counting stars till my eyes start to droop and close.

1-18-14 - Big Gators in Big Cypress

This is it, folks. We made it!! We've been counting down the miles to Big Cypress Preserve and we are FINALLY HERE!

We made it in two nights ago at about 11pm. We crossed through a panther preserve on the way in, and our headlights highlighted 10 foot tall fences topped with razor wire all along the highway. Large signs read "Caution! Panther Crossing". It may seem intimidating to think of 150lb wild cats lurking beyond the low beams, but to me it was wonderful to see such a conservation effort for these incredibly endangered cats. The Florida Panther is a cousin of our Washington native, the cougar. There are less than 160 of them left in the wild.

We ended up on the worst road we've seen, stuck going 15 MPH for over 30 miles of washboard gravel. On the positive side, we have definitely shook loose any rust, dirt, or spare parts that might have been clinging on.

We ended up finding a campsite in the remote backwoods called Bear Island Campground. It was a beautiful spot with well maintained grass and private campsites, so we decided to stay for a couple days. I personally have had it up to the eyeballs with rude retirees in super-busses and massive idling diesel truck engines shaking our bed all night. At this campground, the night was quiet and we slept like babies.

The next morning I unloaded the bike my best friend bought me in San Diego, which has affectionately been named "The Pedal Pickle", after an old green motorcycle my dad had named "The Flying Pickle". I hopped on my trusty steed and took off for a bikeride to explore the area.

Florida has the most abundant and visible wildlife of anywhere I've been! I got to a gated road that let hunters and campers reach the wilderness areas of the reserve on foot. Once through, things got wild. The surroundings were flat marshes of brown grass and tangled greenery, interspersed with pools of crystal clear water. At the bottom of one pool I saw a big 5' alligator napping in the mud, totally still and silent but for the occasional bubble. In a neighboring pool little black ducks whistled and peeped curiously at me before flying away in a huff. Not much farther down the road I saw a thick, black shape in the road and I slowed to a stop at a safe distance. It was a big snake napping in the sun with a bulge in his gut that said he had just had a good meal. I got off the bike and cautiously sidestepped him.

After a while I started to head back when a Park Ranger in a big SUV passed me and waved. I saw him stop where the snake was, and he motioned for me to stay back.
"Hang on!" he hollered "There's a cottonmouth here in the road, didn't want you to step on it!" I thought back to how close I had passed the deadly snake and gulped.

Luckily, neither the snakes or the gators got me, and I made it back to camp in one piece. Dave and I had some awesome vegetable soup for dinner, then layed back and watched the stars come out one at a time.

The next day the sun rose early and hot, and I sat outside the van taking it all in. Suddenly Jax yipped and I saw he was staring intently up at the pine tree with both ears pricked up. I looked up to see a huge black turkey vulture perched not 15 feet up, cocking his head and watching us intently. He decided we weren't going to feed him or run him off, so he spread his wings open to the sun and made like a solar panel. The rest of the time we were there he was perched, driving Jax to distraction. He dropped a wing feather at one point and it was as long as my forearm.

The cypress trees that give the park it's name are everywhere. Their wandering branches all have miniature gardens on top of fern and orchids. I've yet to catch a glimpse of the Ghost Orchid, but I'm looking!

We left after the second night to try to get into somewhere that didn't charge. Apparently our campground used to be free, but now has a $10 charge per night. Being the broke adventure purists we are, we're off to seek greener pastures...or swamps.

On the way out a slough followed the road, and through breaks in the vegetation we saw more alligators than I could possibly count. Their ancient reptilian forms line every bank, from 5' to 8' long, black as sin and scaled in a way that makes me shiver. It's no exaggeration to say there must be millions in the state.

We went to Everglade City to use the wireless internet to scope out new campsites and get in touch with family back home. I've had some sad news about a family member that has hit pretty hard, and it's difficult to be so far away. I'm acutely aware of the fact I'm literally on the opposite end of the country, but I'm thankful to be able to keep in touch with modern technology. Despite the sadness, there is always humour to be found, even in the hardest of times. I've never seen a carving that looked so blissfully happy to be a saltshaker.

"Oh, you!"

I hope this brings a smile to my loved ones back home. I miss you all so much, and I love you more than words can say.

Travel Charms and Good Luck Birds

I thought it due time to include a little blurb about Travel Bird!

Here he is in all his feathery glory:

So what's the story with Travel Bird? Well, every travel culture has it's superstitions supposed to bring good luck and safe travels. Motorcycle riders tie a little silver spirit bell to their bikes to ward off bad spirits. Ancient mariners refused to set sail on a Friday because it was unlucky. Some people have lucky travel socks or underwear, or little angels hung on their rearview mirror. We have Travel Bird!

It's hard to say where his journey began, but I'll tell you where we found him. Dave and I were on a roadtrip in Montana, exploring some incredibly remote backroads in my Jeep Cherokee, and sleeping in a tent. We drove down an incredibly rutted and dry gravel road for miles and miles, hammering the suspension and rattling our teeth. There was nothing but dust in all directions, and we were just about to turn back when we stumbled upon an oasis in the desert! A reservoir was tucked away, miles and miles from nothing. We whooped with joy and jumped into the cool water for a swim. Against all odds, we saw a dust cloud rolling in, and another couple joined us. Their names were Charlie and Arlene, an old, wrinkled cowboy in a Stetson and his wife. They had a big truck with a camper on the back hauling a boat, and they planned to camp and fish here. They were so kind and friendly, Charlie took us out for a ride on his boat while Arlene fished for trout. Later, we all shared beers around a campfire and told stories. Before long I found myself well and properly drunk. I had stumbled off to throw some garbage in the bin, and when I looked down I whooped with excitement. 

"Dave!" I hollered "Check this out!!"

I had found an old pair of mounted deer antlers festooned with little handmade fake birds. Whoever had gone to the effort to bring this artifact all the way out to the middle of nowhere to dispose of will remain a mystery. This was obviously had been left here just for us to find and was the kind of treasure that couldn't be passed up, so as might be expected, we ziptied it to the front grill of the Jeep and it stayed there for the whole rest of our drive home. Charlie thought we were crazy kids, but he still smiled and sent us off with cups of hot coffee in the morning.

Later on the deer antlers became chew toys for Jax, but travel bird remained intact. He stayed with me in my Jeep while I owned it, and now he's earned himself a place of honor on our rearview mirror, where he gets rubs on the head for luck. 

We haven't had an accident or speeding ticket since he came along. Coincidence?

You decide. 

I'm stickin' with my bird.

1-15-14 - Get a job, sea pig!

Today found us at the Homosassa Springs Wildlife Park. What an awesome place! We stumbled upon it by accident while passing through Clearwater, Florida. It had a gigantic paper mache manatee in front, so of course I demanded we stop. When we went inside we found that it was actually a visitor center for Homosassa Springs Wildlife Park. The entrance fee was only $13.00, and I had always wanted to see a manatee, so we jumped on it. From the visitor center we hopped on a passenger boat that took us on a 20 minute ride up Pepper Creek. The entire park was run by elderly volunteers whose passion and sense of fun was quite contagious. The guide drove the boat up the creek while cracking jokes and pointing out wildlife. We saw several turtles and some beautiful wood ducks in their nests.

When we arrived at the park itself we sat down for a short presentation about manatees. Homosassa Springs is world famous for being "Nature's Fishbowl". The water is clear as air and stays at a constant 72 degrees farenheit year round. Because of this, massive schools of fish congregate in the waters and swim in lazy circles. The manatees, who normally live in the sea grass beds in the ocean, come in for the warmth because cold water will kill them. They have zero sense of natural aggression and are quite curious, so if you snorkel with them they will swim up and feel you with stiff whiskers.

Volunteers go out in kayak the shallow waters to count the wild manatees and look for sick or injured animals. One of the volunteers proudly proclaims she has the best job in the world with a smile that said more than words ever could.

I personally fall a little in love with the manatees myself. They look like giant grey footballs full of jello, with big flat tails and wisened old faces. They aren't terribly quick or coordinated, and their preferred method of stopping seems to be to just bumble into whatever object is in front of them. They have a huge body percentage dedicated to lung, and they can stay underwater for up to 20 minutes when resting. We watch them eat lettuce with their prehensile upper lip, using their adorable little flippers to push food into their mouth when it floats away. I can't help but giggle at their well natured, bumbling antics.

After the manatees we stroll around the rest of the park, which includes a reptile house and a shore bird aviary. My favorite part about this park is that they only have animals and plants that are native to Florida! The one exception is a 6,000 lb hippopotamous named Lu. Apparently the Governor of Florida made him an honorary citizen to prevent him from being put down!

No, really, come closer. I don't bite! Hehehhe....

This little guy was begging for treats and was quite curious about Dave's camera.

The flamingos were funny to watch. They looked like muppets or hand puppets! They milled around in constantly moving stately circles with their noses in the air, squawking and honking loud enough to raise the dead. They all look quite dignified, disgruntled spoiled socialites.

11-13-14 - Tide Swamp National Wildlife Refuge

Our usual days consist of a couple hours of driving and running whatever errands we might have, then coaxing the van down all sorts of atrocious backroads it has no business being on. We scoped out the map and found an area titled "Tide Swamp N.W.R." NWR's, or National Wildlife Refuge areas, are all over here in Florida. They are tracts of land set aside for hunting, ORV use, resource management, and preservation of native plant and animal species. They are usually marked only on the map and are somewhat difficult to spot if you don't know they're there. 

Today was no exception and we barrelled down a two-lane highway at 60 MPH, trying to scope out dirt roads. 

"There's one!" I hollered

Dave, as is our system, slammed on the brakes hard, somehow bringing Charlie to a stop in less than two car lengths without flinging our belongings in all directions. He's a true miracle van handler.

We shot off down the sand and dirt road into the NWR, trailing a cloud of dust and exhaust. I even get a picture of Dave wrestling Charlie through an epic water crossing. That is a happy face indeed.

Once off the hectic pace of the highway, we slowed down to enjoy the scenery. There is an incredible amount of biodiversity and wildlife here, and we love taking it all in. We have started getting into more stereotypical "Florida" type forests of cypress, palm, and mangrove, hugged by vines thick as my wrist and draped in Spanish moss. The water is deep black and shallow, and if we sit still and settle, frogs chorus at us in strange voices that sound like twisting balloon rubber and squeaking shoes. We see great white egrets, roseate spoonbill, turkey vultures, wild turkey, whitetail deer, and even an armadillo! They're all quick and hard to catch photos of.

The next day we move on to another sandy area farther down the highway. The new spot is in an oak forest, a completely different environment than the spot we just stayed. Dark swamp has been replaced by twisted oak trees and dry leaves. There is an incredible variety and abundance of fungus here, and I see lots of sign of boar rummaging in the leaves. I also spot several large dens dug in the sand, possibly by a tortoise or some large mammal. Squirrels chatter irritably at me and a cardinal follows me for over a mile as I wander down a horse trail through the woods. He chirps at me in loud staccatos, cocking his head and flicking his tail.

It rained like Hell for the next two days, so we stay put and sat it out. On the second day I couldn't take the grime anymore and set up our shower for it's first test. We are using a Trekker pop-up shelter and a 4 gallon pressurized shower canister heated by a 1lb propane tank. It works beautifully! I took a long, hot shower while the rain came pouring down outside. It was a great feeling.

1-11-14 - Ochlockonee State Park

Due to our headlight failure, we were stuck in the Sopchoppy area for 2 more nights, until our part would arrive at the local post office. I was near rabid for a hot shower and we wanted to be able to plug in to shore power, so we decided to stay at the Ochlockonee River State Park. I warned you there were going to be more ridiculous names, didn't I?

It turned out to be a real diamond in the rough! Normally we are somewhat "boondock purists" and don't like staying at fee campgrounds, due to them being overcrowded and expensive and not "real camping". I'm glad we did though! The staff were incredibly friendly and helpful, the campsites private, and the facilities really pretty.

We set up the van and got out to have a wander around the area. The park had a great amount of easy-to-spot wildlife. Unique to this area were pure white squirrels, a genetic mutation on the native squirrels. There was also a white fawn that we just caught a glimpse of browsing in the tall grass. It was misty and damp, but warm, and we were the only ones out. We wandered through the woods and down to the Ochlockonee River. The waters were the color of rich black tea and still as a pane of glass. Content with our wanderings, we headed back to the van for dinner.

When we left Dave's friend in Port Lavaca, Texas, he gave us a pound of elk hamburger. It was then that I discovered the recipe for THE BEST DAMN ELK BURGERS EVER. The recipe is now up on the "Two Pot Recipe" tab above. We stuffed ourselves on the pan-fried burgers topped with beefsteak tomato, caramelized onions, and chipotle mayo.

In the morning we woke to the sound of loud, cracking thunder. It was about 70 degress and intensely humid. I woke up early and listened for a while, counting the seconds between strobes of lightning and the thunder. I decided to go take a shower, and I could hear the rain coming down in sheets and the thunder pounding as I relaxed in the hot steam. Soothed and happy, I stepped out to walk back to the van and was greeted by a wall of falling water. The skies had positively opened up, and I got a second, not-so-enjoyable shower on my walk back. When I came around the corner to see the van I was greeted by this sight:

Free lakefront property!

I heaved a resigned sigh and slogged through the 3" deep puddle to the van. After some delicate maneuvering and very wet feet we managed to get to high ground and dry out a bit. We checked out and headed into town to do work on our overflowing laundry basket at a local laundromat.

As soon as we stepped in the doors, all Hell broke loose outside. Rain came roaring down like a pressure washer on high, wind gusted signs over and slammed the doors, and the thunder ripped the sky with sound. All of us inside the laundromat watched in awe as the storm tore a wet, messy path through town. Then, as quickly as it began, it broke. The sun peeked through the clouds and the wind and rain quieted.

I love a good thunderstorm and I hopped back into the van with a happy smile.


Don't forget to check out Dave's blog for more pics, and touched up ones!!
Copy and paste the following into your browser bar! supertrip5000.blogspot.com

1-8-14 - I Made it Through the Wilderness

Who said living in a van sucks? Why do we look down on this lifestyle as a society? The beer is plentiful and the food is hot and savory. We have all the time in the world to sit and take in the patting of rain on the roof, the calls of frogs, and the trees saying "Shhhhhh…" in the wind. We wrap ourselves in what clothes we have, we head in the direction that suits us each day. Our days are spontaneous and each night we all three settle in to bed with contented sighs.



In the morning I usually wake first, sometimes to muted rain drops, sometimes to sun and blue sky. I put on a pot of water to boil for coffee and sit taking deep breaths in the silence. If it's cold, I snuggle back in bed with Dave until the coffee sputters and spits. If not, I step outside to check what has happened in the night and to examine how our new landscape looks in the light. When we both have a steaming cup of coffee, I get breakfast going. We both slurp down huge, hot portions of breakfast burritos or eggs and toast with a side of grapefruit juice.



I do miss daily hot showers, which surprisingly is the only modern convenience I really can't do without. Everything else is perfect. We are camping all the time, but without the discomforts that come with sleeping on the ground and carrying your home on your back. We have shelter, water, food, the ability to travel, and each other. Although some might see this lifestyle as a sacrifice, I revel in the luxury of it every day.



Tonight we found ourselves winding back into the Apalachicola National Forest. (I warn you, there are many more incomprehensible and downright ridiculous names to come, so hang in there with the pronunciation. Your guess is as good as mine on most of these.) The roads are white sand and red, powdery earth bordered in all directions by spindly pine trees and saw palmetto. Occasionally we'll catch a glimpse of black, still water that give me the shivers. As we pass one such pond I just catch sight of an otter's cream-colored belly flashing, and with a splash he disappears into the inky water.

The light fades as we drive deeper into the forest, and soon we're engulfed in darkness. It is at this point that the van's headlights stop working.

Dave swears and works the switch, and I grip the seat's armrests with white knuckles. The rutted dirt road becomes visible in strobe light flashes as the headlights sputter on and off, on and off. The farther we go, the worse it becomes until we look like some sort of blinking satellite beacon, bumping and fumbling down the road. I nervously whistle a few bars of a tune.
"I made it through the wilderness, you know I made it through-ooh."


Luckily Dave is an excellent driver and we navigate the potholes and sand washes without wiping out. We take the next side road, and find that it dead ends in brush and swamp and with great relief set up camp for the night. The woods here spook me and I find voodoo and ghost stories a little easier to believe than normal. We walk back on an overgrown side path that ends in a swamp of mirror-calm water as black as tar. For reasons I can't explain the water and the heavy stillness raise the hairs on the back of my neck, and I hurry back to the van with nervous backwards glances. We have a fire that night to ward of chills of many kinds, and I sleep fitfully.

1-7-14 - Cold.

It's cold.

Not a reasonable "oh, I can put on a sweater" cold. Not like rosy-cheeked cups of cocoa around the fire cold. It's bitingly, bitterly cold, with a windchill of zero degrees. As Ron White said, when asked what the temperature was, "There doesn't appear to be one."

We stopped in a small backwoods town called Vernon, which apparently was the location of a documentary in the 80's. It was ever-so-originally titled "Vernon, Florida". We ate at Dee's Diner which served up fried meat and pickles in truly mind boggling quantities. The waitress warned us of the incoming cold front in a slow Southern drawl, with temperatures supposed to drop to 17 degrees overnight, with a windchill below zero.

We slept at a Water Management District area last night. These are all over the state and are similar to our forestry areas, with long, sandy backroads leading off in all directions. The dominant vegetation here is some type of pine, puny little thin sticks with tufts of long needles on top. I had seen similar pines in the forests of Idaho, but they look out of place here when surrounded by white sand, palm fronds, and climbing vines.

As we drove down one sandy track we let Jax out to stretch his legs. He ran ahead and we paced him in the van as going 15 miles per hour! He ran until his tongue lolled out and he collapsed into a happily panting pile back inside the warm confines of our steel abode.

The land outside has been eroded by past rains. We found a shotgun shell on a pillar of earth, and tiny miniature Martian landscapes less than an inch tall.

As the temperature fell outside, we passed the time by drinking cheap beer and playing Backgammon. We watched a few episodes of "An Idiot Abroad" before falling asleep. It's a hilarious British TV show about a very unwilling man being sent abroad to see the 7 wonders of the world. I highly recommend it!

When we woke up in the morning the world was frozen solid. It had indeed fallen to 17 degrees, and possibly even colder, in the night. My water bottle had been sitting in the footwell of the passenger seat and was completely frozen. We passed a fountain that had formed itself into an intricate ice cascade when someone carelessly left it running through the night.

Today was a day for errands, including the purchase of a second house battery to run in paralell with our current one. This will give us greater lengths of time between necessary charges, and let us stay out in the boonies even longer! Tonight we're headed to the Apalachicola National Forest to wait out the last cold day before the weather breaks.