According to a quick scan of the map this strange unmarked road is called South Street and may be all of three quarters of a mile long (one kilometer). We took more than an hour to meander along, taking pictures checking smells and looking into these odd pits dug out into the bushes.
This may also be horse country, according to the signs in the mud:
The beauty of winter in the Keys is that it's dry season so it rains when it's hot in the summer and dries out when it's colder. I like that combination.The return to warmer weather and bright crisp sunshine is welcome.
At this western end of the road I did start to see a few pine trees that were alive and flourishing:And I came across was a set of concrete blocks cemented together with re-bar down the middle. There was no sign of any construction around there but there were a few planks in the bushes. Just another Keys mystery lying around.Cheyenne was lost in her own world, and with no cars around she could wander at will.
Even in the midst of this wilderness we could see a line of houses in the distance to the south, with one tin roof winking semaphore at us as the sun passed overhead.At one point the road took a jog to the north through the bushes. Barely visible in the picture, Fat Albert was hovering over it all:
Finally a sign of civilization:
And over my shoulder brief whisk of a white tail and a Key Deer summed us up and vanished.
A mown lawn, a sure sign of people:
And our walk ended in the blank walls of dwellings on Big Pine's Fern Street at Guava:
The good dog was outside, free and busy sniffing: