On the southern side of Sugarloaf Key we find a road that parallels the sea, and dead ends here. This is old County Road 939 or State Road 4A that turns west at the bottom of Sugarloaf Boulevard and many years ago used to run along the south side of the islands. These days, all that's left of the old road is a trail that disappears into the bushes at the dead end of the modern roadway:
It's a wild and woolly place this trek through the mangroves:
The road bed is quite narrow these days though you can see where the surface used to be wider under the bushes. There is also evidence that vehicles of some sort travel the old road, possibly all terrain vehicles or something that leaves tire marks:
The trail runs alongside a body of water to the south for quite a stretch. barely visible through the trees:
One is never far from water in these islands and the difference between wet and dry can be a tide or a just a few inches in the rainy season:
Even though the islands have the appearance of rolling greenery, it is somewhat deceptive as the trees are much shorter than they may appear, and if they are red mangroves they are actually growing out of the salt water.
The Keys are a mixture of mud, rock, tree and water: 
And birds, let's not forget herons and stuff flying around looking for dinner: 
The evening Cheyenne and I walked the sky was overcast with a promise of cold or rain or something nasty. The breaks in the cloud cover never seemed to want to amount to much:
The day seemed washed out of all colors:
Cheyenne was new to this place and busy finding whatever there was to smell. She treats these walks as a vacuuming exercise snorting and snuffling her way to the end and back:
It seems there are people who come out here for a good time and very enterprising I think it is too, with signs of a splendid bonfire and no visible trash. I can only imagine how pleasant it must be in company with chairs and roaring fire far from the cares of the world in the dark of night.
I fiddled with my camera and Cheyenne found something disgusting and appetizing and disappeared into the bushes. I only found out after I nailed a couple of still lifes that she was snacking on something smelly.
At first I thought this discarded commercial fishing float had a series of letters printed on the side ESL, but as I ruminated, wondering how this artifact of the sea got here I figured I was looking at it upside down and it was really numbered 753. I really should be a detective.
I heard a rustling in the bushes and before we knew it we were set upon by a graybeard on a bicycle which required deft footwork by yours truly. Cheyenne doesn't do well around wheels so I lunged for her collar and let him by. "Twice a week" he replied over his shoulder, not stopping when I asked him if he had got to the end of the trail. Which by my calculation is 3.5 miles end to end.
We had ambled for an hour and it was my executive decision to head home. The light was failing anyway, not that a dog would care about such trifles.
It wasn't much of a sunset but it made a pretty picture nevertheless. Water and mangroves always help in these situations. I'm lucky to have them to hand.
5 comments:
ESL or 753 ... just a matter of perspective.
Your essay yesterday was spot on suggesting Wall Street at 8am would have been a far more just epicenter.
I like to agree with Chuck, I even emailed that to most of my "friends" and I am glad and sad that I had to give up boating(5K to 6K) a year for a 50' slip is crazy. So now when the bottom falls out of our economy and we are forced to sell the stick home I can merely live along the side of Rt1 in our 40' motor-home or a Walmart if they survive this era.
Oh dose Cheyenne eat every thing that smells bad?
Dear Comrade:
I took the first two hours out of my day to address the essay you wrote yesterday. While you and I share some common thoughts, we differ on many. Don't let this stop you from buying me a very expensive birthday present.
There is nothing I love more than a romp through the swamp with you and your dog in the morning, or evening. There is something comforting in the knowledge that the island primeval is your playground.
One of the most amazing things about dogs is that they never tire of finding the smelliest things on the planet to eat or roll in. Therein lies the rub. While dogs are the most resilient of creatures, hors d'oeurves like rotting fish, decomposing birds, the occasional human turd, and various specimens of roadkill which have managed to drag themselves of to the brush so as not to disillusion the tourists are often loaded with parasites.
You would be amazed at how effectively many of these can shorten the life-span of a dog. I am of the opinion that dogs are with us too briefly in the first place. Therefore, it is with the best of intentions, only to avoid you having to endure any premature grief in your life, that I respectfully suggest getting a longer leash to deny poor Cheyenne the opportunity to make herself sick, while simulating the effect of freedom.
Simulated freedom was the theme of my second marriage.
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
Thanks for the wonderful blogs, I've followed you for a while and always look forword to hear as to what's going on in my wife and I"s favorite place with Cheyenne and yourself.Having been coming to the Keys since 1978 myself I was never aware till I read your blog that I haven't even begun to "scratch the surface" ...Thanks again
Glad you like it. You would be surprised how many people even key West residents never leave the city to check out the other islands. I tend to walk them in winter and visit key west more in the summer when crowds there are thinner and the mosquitos are heavier in the mangroves.
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