... and occasional flashes of scenic beauty.
Of course scenery and scenic vistas are all in the eye of the beholder, because County Road 905, the "Old Highway" of pre-1982 years, is at sea level and not always within sight of the sea:
I am not a great fan of the Upper Keys, not as a place to live. they suffer from the same affliction of all the keys except Key West; there is, as Gertrude Stein famously noted of Oakland, no there, there. The Keys are, more or less one long strip mall, interspersed by houses and around here many of the homes are magnificent. It is said that the further one travels from Key West, up the Keys (up in this context means north), the less liberal the people are and the more monied. I think proximity to Miami is one reason, there are a great many people within an easy drive of Islamorada with more money than God and a desire for an exclusive seaside home. So they come here.
And even if the home is modest, a giant waterfront lot looking out over the Atlantic down here is worth millions, even nowadays. Of course there isn't much money around for loans, but there are many homes for sale around here and I suspect people who don't need loans will be moving in en masse in the future, raising the bar for the rest of us.
In some ways I see the Upper keys foreshadowing what I suspect will be the future for the Lower Keys as well, those islands out of immediate reach of Miami day trippers. After the current housing crisis eases up, in a decade perhaps if the Japanese example of deflation holds true for us too, I think the Keys will resume their inexorable glide into the economic stratosphere. There will be less room to rent a room (with a/c, no less!) here:
And this house available for rent by an apparently hopeless seller who is asking $362,000 will seem like a bargain to the next generation: 
The housing boom of the last decade brought plenty of gentrification to the Keys and what the "greatest generation" thought of as a nice fish camp in the Keys...
...has been transformed into this by their offspring:
And so it goes. I saw lots of for sale signs so I guess a lot of optimistic beach goers stretched themselves a bit to get their dream homes in the Keys. Miami real estate has tanked in spectacular fashion, so it would be unreasonable to assume we get off scott free.
CR905 closely parallels Highway One; it has to, these islands are generally much less than a mile wide and it is frequently possible to spy the water through the yards and gardens of houses alongside the road, like this marina at Pelican Cove Resort: 
CR 905 offers a rarity in the Keys, a true alternative to the main Highway. Of course at every bridge the county road runs out and one is forced to rejoin the main flow of traffic but for a dozen miles across three islands one can ride parallel to the main stream, if not very far from it, physically. The bushy tree in this picture on Matecumbe (Mah-tay-coom-bay) Key separates Highway One from CR905:
Here the silver car is on Highway One and the Bonneville will be forced to join the Highway at that point before the next bridge:
And seen from the opposite direction (now looking south) the entrance to the county road is behind the yellow car, almost invisible unless you knew it was there: 
The cyclist in this picture has his back to the Overseas Highway:
As does my Bonneville in this next picture, taken near the Wide World of Sports store, with a recreational vehicle lumbering by on Highway One:
And on the subject of lumbering RVs CR905, should not of course be viewed as a speed track to get ahead of gormless cages, after all it has it's own speed limit: 
However I will say this, if you are coming south off the Tea Table Keys (a name to conjure with, I'm sure) bored out of your skull by dawdlers, and you see the Siesta Resort sign pictured above, and its a quiet time of the year it is possible to get on CR905 and pop out in front of the "island time" buggers before the next bridge. However if you are not totally determined, and if you are not held up by a law abiding citizen or a bicycle on this road...
...then I say it is possible, just, to get ahead of a chronic slow poke. How do I know? Well, let me just say I honed my driving skills as a callow youth in Italy.
Far better to take the time to enjoy the greenery, the exotic homes and the sights, like the recently refurbished monument to the 400 dead in the great storm of 1935, on Matecumbe Key:
That was the storm that essentially killed the Over-The-Sea Railway by tearing up the tracks on Matecumbe Key, wiping out homes, businesses and the relief train sent to rescue railroad workers. Bodies from the storm were found dangling in mangrove bushes miles away on the north shore of Florida Bay and Ernest Hemingway did his bit by sending north his eyewitness reports of the devastation. Shortly thereafter he went to Cuba, to escape not just storms but an angry wife (he had a fresh mistress on his arm at that point) and the effects of the newly constructed highway.
I like County Road 905 and I take it when I have the time, not least because it does remind me of the bad old days of slow trips up to the mainland. Not for nothing is it known as Old Highway:
And here is how you decipher addresses in the Keys: this mailbox is located on Mile Marker 87- the 445 locates the address within the "block" approximately as it happens half way. Thus Burger King on Stock island is at 5400 US1, which puts it at Mile Marker 5.4 and so on. Your useless fact of the day.
Talking of useless I took too many pictures but I rarely publish essays about the distant Keys so here are a few random pictures to extend this already lengthy essay including a random self portrait that I included because I am actually wearing a helmet, lest the forces of ATGATT (all the gear all the time, an acronym favored by new riders who put their faith in the power of Kevlar) descend upon me. In the interest of truthful disclosure most of the pictures I actually took helmetless and sweating between frequent stops:
And here we have the positively glowing apartment complex, perhaps a function of a shortage of more moderate color choices?
I found more primary colors across the street, "bright" must be the fashionable house painter's choice at the moment:
And on the subject of bright colors, not everyone develops a rich tan immediately upon arrival:
I am struck by the history of tanning that suggests a hundred years ago pale skin was a sign of wealth and leisure and pale skin conferred status, where peasants toiled in the sun burning their skin to a crisp. Then the leisured classes took to sunny winter vacations when transport became available and a glowing tan was a sign of indolence and wealth to be envied. So fickle, is it any wonder I am not fashion conscious? Motorcycle boots and an indifferent collared shirt, and arms burnt brown like a peasant's:
They are in an attitude of prayer and contemplation in an effort not to photograph myself with my arms raised over my head as I squint into the camera. On the subject of nothing in that regard, my wife likes this Japanese restaurant near the Hurricane Monument if you are driving up the highway and feel moved to refresh yourself with raw fish:
You dawdle on Highway One as all good visitors should. Me? I'm racing home on the county road as far as it will take me:
That's as twisty as it gets around here.
