I woke yesterday morning to 67 degrees and a brisk north wind. My wife went to work, I turned over and went back sleep to enjoy the blessings of a day off. However I am imbued to some degree with the Puritan ethic so eventually I did have to get out of bed and go get a long overdue haircut. All of which is to say that by mid morning there I was on Big Pine with proper length hair, weak sunshine and a perfectly functional motorcycle. Which was why a short while later I was to be found on Big Torch Key, chasing curves and minding my own happy business.
Big Torch Key is named for torchwood trees that apparently grow on it in some abundance. Torchwood supposedly is very resinous and burns brightly, however as I wouldn't know a torchwood from a gooseberry I couldn't possibly say if any of the above is true. There are as it happens three Torch Islands, named Goldilocks-style, Little, Middle, and Big and to get to Big you turn north off Highway One around Mile marker 28 and cross Middle for a couple of miles before hitting the causeway that joins it to Big.
There aren't any signs or anything, just a few dilapidated houses and a left turn, and there you are, crossing the waters to Big Torch. There I was wrapped up like a Christmas present fending off the biting cold wind as I took one ninety degree turn after another. That's the beauty of the drive across the Torches, very little traffic, mostly smooth roadway (with some spectacular sinkage in some spots that one needs to be aware of) all held back by a rather modest speed limit:
Of course one could twist one's wrist if one were so inclined and reach a top speed, easily enough of say 85 miles per hour which would be horribly illegal and entirely exhilarating if one were feeling naughty and one happened to have a 900cc motorcycle capable of such speeds especially if one happened not to have "upgraded" the exhausts, like mine which are entirely stock and relatively quiet. But of course sensible motorcyclists pootle along at a proper 35 miles per (5mph over the limit is allowed in Florida on penalty only of a written warning; this is a weird state). The corners here are a bit tricky, not only because they are right angles but because they also enjoy scatterings of pea rock:
Those little white balls look innocuous enough but they play merry hell with a motorcycle tire's grip when the tire runs over them at an angle; it's like riding on marbles and the subsequent heaving and sliding plays hell with a middle aged man's heart rhythms. In between the sharp turns which put my cornering skills to the test (I needed the practice) there were lots of those long straightaways, blasted by the cold north winds:
I am really enjoying the power curve of the Bonneville, lots of pull from slow speeds, a smooth gearbox and light clutch. The riding positions, feet hips and shoulders in a vertical line gives excellent control when taking the corners too. This road is one of my preferred locations to practice u-turns as well because I can see traffic coming from a long way and there aren't many houses around to be bothered by the sounds of my (factory stock) exhausts. There are a few houses along the way:
And the houses are clustered along a canal:
It's not immediately apparent but these homes appear to all have cisterns for water collection though they do have electricity.
There is lots of open space around Big Torch, it is in fact a Big Island by local standards and there's lots of marshland and mangroves under the bright blue sky. This place is off the beaten track:
And here we have, I believe an egret judging by the long curved beak, but as usual I can't be sure. Whatever it was, it was swooping and riding the strong winds aloft:
Close to the end of the road there are a couple of houses and these are entirely off the grid, no electricity poles anywhere near them. This pole is just supporting a box for an osprey nest:
The road ends in a barrier and a bunch of graffiti and a turn around, apparently in the middle of nowhere. In fact the island runs out altogether in a wad of mangroves and mud just beyond the barrier:
This is where I parked the Bonneville, and crawled off the bike. I was cold, truly cold. I was lightly dressed for the short 3-mile hop to the barber's and my ride out into the Torches got me quite chilled. I know it was 70 degrees and sunny but in my defense I was under dressed and my blood is thin. I got busy walking down the trail:
The trail looks like an ancient road, slightly raised above the rest of the dirt and about wide enough for a vehicle. However officious persons have made sure no vehicle will desecrate this piece of land:
It was less than half a mile out into the bushes and I was soon warmed up. The shrubs provided perfect cover from the wind and I could open my jacket and feel almost spring like. There were insects buzzing and the sun was warm on my head. The trail opened up into a sort of clearing:
Which got wide enough that I could see across the scrub to one of the last two houses on the road looking a bit like Rapunzel's hangout:
It's been fairly dry lately and this cold snap was what had inspired me to make the trip out here. I was hoping for low water levels and not too many mosquitoes to allow me to walk deeper into the mangroves than I had previously gone before. I was right on both counts though I met the tidal waters well before I got the shoreline:
The walking was easy along here, the mangrove roots were considerately far apart and the ground between offered sure footing on smooth limestone rocks:
It's too bad there was so much water, because I wanted to do the Lewis and Clark thing and stand on the water's edge and take a picture. I suppose if I were a fussy explorer, or an organized one I'd take along a pair of rubber crocs to do my waterborne footwork but I guess I'm kind of lazy in the wardrobe department. Had it not been so cold I could have gone wading I suppose. Instead I stopped and turned around. Thoroughly warmed up I got on the Bonneville and headed back towards Highway One:
It was just a matter of another eight miles of straights and sharp turns back to the highway. Which showed up in the fullness of time, a line across the horizon and suddenly there was traffic and cars and people and all the other stuff that zips by and misses out on the side streets of the Lower Keys:
The whole trip took an hour out of my day and was an excellent break, snatched between chores.
