Monday, February 2, 2009

Park Key

To say Park Key is a wide spot in the Overseas Highway would be exaggerating. Park Key consists of two signs, one at Park Channel and the other at North Harris Channel which pretty much defines this tiny uninhabited Key. And there's another exaggeration, it's not totally uninhabited:At the spot along the highway where I stopped to take a quick stroll I found numerous spiders building cobwebs. I have no idea, as usual, what they are called but they are little square buggers, very industrious, who look like they are built of armoured plating. Their webs shone in the sunlight which made them easy to duck and avoid, but they and a few birds are the only residents of the half mile long Park Key. The island is basically a causeway connecting the two arms of Sugarloaf Key but it does have one small sort-of-turn out, which county public works has done it's best to make totally unfriendly:The thing is, every time I ride by here in the dark my peripheral vision flashes a reflection or two back at me and I get this anxious feeling like something white with the word "Sheriff" could be parked here; an anxiety inducing feeling as the speed limit on this section of highway is a soporific 45 miles per hour...so I figured perhaps I would stop thinking about it if I took a short walk and explored the mysterious little area:Of which there isn't too much to explore, just a gravel path through the shrubbery to the water's edge......which on a bright sunny winter afternoon at 80 degrees (27C) looked quite lovely:They are quite obsessed about not parking here for some reason, and it verges on mania in my opinion because about the only thing that could get out here to get parked would be a skinny bicycle and I can't think why they would be worrying about that. Perhaps they have surplus quantities of "No Parking" signs to distribute around the county. Or perhaps they are worried about some half wit actually trying to use the old and very distressed boat ramp here:So I stood there feeling all illegal and everything, neither using the boat ramp nor dumping trash but simply admiring the views off towards the west and Sugarloaf Lodge:Or the not entirely dissimilar view to the east which is where Sugarloaf Middle school sits invisible somewhere among these mangroves:And off to the north, barely visible sat a houseboat. I've seen it there for months and on a day like this the lifestyle looked enviable:The boat was so far away my telephoto lense was hard pressed to pick up the boat, and it's Jolly Roger snapping in the breeze:Back on land busy people were busy torturing themselves alongside the traffic:And I had a motorcycle to ride:Yes I know the road is all straight but it is still a great ride and now when I flash by after work in the dark early morning hours, I will have a better idea of what that white reflection is in my peripheral vision. Unless it's a Deputy Sheriff, lurking.