Upper Tampa Bay Park

Walking is one of my pleasures so when I get the opportunity I'll sling my camera nerdily around my neck and haul Rusty off to see the world, on foot. My wife had her nails done while we were in Tampa. I went for a walk in a  place called Upper Tampa Bay Park. It was just a splodge of green on Google satellite view, opposite the RV campground where we were staying. Two dollars to park on the grounds was the entire fee payable by credit card through a machine.

You can't get in after 5:30 pm but they close the exit gate at 6pm. I was reminded of work by a notice that said if you were stuck after hours to call the park manager on a number posted at the gate. In Key West people are constantly over staying their welcome at Fort Zachary and at the city cemetery and they end up calling 911 to be released. It's normal! 

This place is part of the Hillsborough County parks network and it is beautifully maintained. I used to live in St Pete and I never explored the north shore of Tampa Bay, the land north of the bridges and I have found it to be very attractive.

While we pondered the potential for storm surge I noticed kayaks for rent, but I have no great faith I could pour Rusty into one...I might have to try one day and see how he does. I have canoed among alligators and while they don't scare me excessively, being among them with a not very water-capable dog in a  tippy canoe might be too exciting for me.

Shady paved parking. What more does a camper van want?

They have picnic areas and nice broad paths, a children's playground and of course trails. 

I quite enjoyed the sight of tall trees rising up above the palmetto.

I find my fellow humans slightly irritating insofar as I think the instruction to pick up after your dog must be obvious by now. I noticed the trail was completely free of human or animal debris and trash.

I am the nerdy guy who stops and reads the informational signs.

Rusty was for some reason, reluctant to walk. He kept stopping and looking over his shoulder but for once I overrode his fears and pressed on until he got with the program.

Usually I pay attention to his neuroses as he is a half wild thing and has survived life in the Everglades where he was abandoned, but in this civilized setting I could not bring myself to imagine there were dragons down this broad smooth trail, easily walked and I dare say with a  strong enough pusher could even be wheelchair accessible in dry weather.

You may have heard of horsehair mattresses, quality sleeping gear in the 19th century. They were not actually made of horsehair, rather the fillings were cleaned strands of Spanish moss which ends up shiny and black when stripped of its outer coating. Valuable material then, before memory foam and box springs and stuff.

Spanish moss grows in abundance in Central Florida and I should be used to it but I enjoy it when I do get to see it outside my tropical islands.

It was a pleasant place to wander for 40 minutes, all shadows and light and hot air and cool breezes.

He never did quite let his guard down. I know that when we are in truly wild places I will watch him closely as he will be an excellent early warning system in bear country.

This though is not bear country, more like a country park.

And very nice too.

We walked at random, following the trail as it led us and we got back to GANNET2 around 5:15pm trying to make the most of the sun being low in the sky while at the same time being out of the park before closing.

The nails were taking longer than expected, plus Herself had a trip to Lowe's planned to pick up some useful stuff with which to equip our home on wheels. Rusty likes to sit outside while we are stopped and watch the world go by.  Van Life for dogs!

D Day

5:00pm.  The surgery is done and all is well and the release from the hospital has begun. Tonight back in the hotel and tomorrow the drive home so there probably won’t be a new entry for a couple of days as I learn to manage the cripple.  Ha! My turn to boss her around and make her take her meds...

From the peace and quiet of a campground under the trees we have moved to a hotel close by the hospital where Layne gets her reverse shoulder replacement surgery.

Twenty years ago they had to do surgery on the shoulder and they promised more later when she "got older." Well the time has come and in the modern way the surgery is today and ends a couple of hours later and after one night in the nearby hotel she gets into the bed in the van and we drive home. Totally weird but it is the modern way. 

The "got older" bit is also working to her advantage in that she is on Medicare, socialized medicine for the old that is much berated in conservative circles but that is absolutely wonderful in fact- no bills, no arguing with insurance companies, no pre approvals, just medicine as needed with no fuss. Ask anyone on Medicare who hates socialized medicine why they don't go private and pay for their own insurance...

We had a vaccinated friend drop by in his van and we sat out and set the world to rights, not around a campfire, but around a mosquito repellent light, memories of college and life in Santa Cruz to round out a weekend overshadowed by surgery instructions and special soaps and dietary restrictions and queries about allergies. Modern medicine is remarkable and thorough. Modern skepticism baffles me.

I heard about the cyber attack on the Colonial pipeline from Dale who lives in the hi-tech world and he figures there will be more of the same. I told him about the ransomware attack on the city of Key West and the two months of chaos that followed the city's very proper refusal to pay. We got through it as we shall even as these problems increase. So much shouting about guns and the real weapons that threaten us are the binary codes of the all knowing Internet...

Rusty adapts to circumstances and he sits patiently by as we deal with all the issues of growing old in the modern world. He gets his walks where we find them, in city parking lots, empty fields sidewalks and hotel gardens. He breezes through it all, a sympathetic presence when and where needed. 

We came to Tampa for the operation as the Florida Orthopedic Center has a certain reputation. I am amazed by the number of people who resent driving to Miami for world class medicine and I suppose our choice to drive eight hours to a top flight shoulder surgeon must seem odd. Dr Mighell (a Celtic name pronounced oddly, "miles" ) says he has done thousands of these shoulder surgeries over decades of cutting people open on Monday mornings. What life!

Layne is looking forward to the end of pain after what promises to be a painful recovery period. I keep reminding her the worst of my four operations was the seven hour pelvic repair that was bad enough to prompt my wigeon to admit he found it interesting. That was so long ago I can't make much mileage out of it especially the countdown rolls toward the fatal moment...

I have been ordered to keep her fans posted on Facebook about her progress so I figured they deserved an education if I am to be required to post on that repulsive medium. I wrote of Dr Robert Liston so if you are a regular reader of this recently erratic page you will click the link to have a few laughs and be reminded how valuable modern medecine is to us.

Many years ago I was a radio reporter who also contributed to Monitor Radio a defunct arm of the Christian Science newspaper in Boston. One day my editor told me he was working from bed, and I wondered why. He told me he had broken his leg and I empathized and asked how long the doctor expected him to be off his feet, as one does. Oh he said, we don't believe in medicine we rely on the power of prayer. They paid very well so I took their lucre willingly but long before medical skepticism became so popular Christian Scientists were leading the way in medical madness. I have never subscribed to that anymore than I follow the advice given in mechanical matters on Facebook, and given so freely I might add. 

Thank God for experts I say and may they wield their surgical saws to great effect. 

Tampa Redux

It has been a hectic few days in my past of the world starting with a drive up to Tampa Wednesday, a day made better by a call from the Ram dealer in Tampa, Jerry Ulm, who said the van was ready to go. We couldn't get there in time to pick GANNET2 up before closing so I was resigned to driving the rental car to a hotel and getting reacquainted with van life independence Thursday morning.

The Chrysler Voyager courtesy of Enterprise is a pleasant bland and powerful minivan capable of cruising at 80 mph and returning 25 mpg so we did that after we got out of excruciatingly backed up traffic in the Keys, where winter tourist season seems to never end. 

Layne went to Publix to shop for some dinner salads while Rusty and I went exploring. He tried to blend in with the background and give me the slip but I am too smart for him.

Thursday morning early Layne had her first appointment for a pre-surgery meeting at the hospital where they managed to lost her paperwork even as she got tested variously for everything you shouldn't have before the surgeon cuts you open.  Apparently they say she has no COVID but I of course am skeptical.

As she gave blood and got stabbed up the nostril Rusty and I sweated out a pre-cold front swamp in the streets outside. A short walk and we stopped back at the Voyager to regroup and read a book. Rusty refuses to learn to read words, preferring to read people as they pass by, looking debonair and relaxed as they wonder as they walk why his paws are crossed.

Then we repaired to the doctor's office for more secret tests in a covid-free facility while Rusty and I did some more hanging around outside. It was a day off for me so naturally it rained so I sat on the floor with my companion and he chewed his bed while I plowed on through a not-too-brief history of Central Asia. I had about got to the Second Afghan War in 1878 when Britain was trying to get revenge for having their armies served to them on a platter by Afghan fighters ( does this sound familiar and modern? It should) in the first War of 1842, when the doctors were all done and finally the real van could be retrieved.

The cost to install a replacement second alternator hit the estimate precisely at $1270.41 and we were very glad to get the van back. My wife thinks she will be able to convince Nations Alternators of Cape Girardeau to cover our cost as 17,500 miles seem like a rather premature death for such equipment. The van itself is fine and the technician said Custom Coach did a first rate installation of the second alternator which gives us over 200 amp/hours of electricity as we drive to recharge our 600amps of lithium batteries with which we power the living space.

To have the van back felt like getting our lives back. It is odd how quickly one adapts to having the conveniences of life on the road with you.I now have my office back where I can type these words, my wife has a toilet within arms reach at all times and Rusty gets to go everywhere with us. Even shopping of which we did a fair bit.

Our experiment this weekend is too tay three nights inn RV park close by the hospital and the doctor's office. It's our first stay in a formal private RV Park with all modern conveniences. Bay Bayou is a tightly run ship and the facilities sparkle, the spaces are kept tidy and many of the RVs seem to be left here over the summer and used in the winter as snowbird homes. Consequently we in our ridiculously short 21 foot van sit like a cottage surrounded by skyscrapers most of which are unoccupied at the moment.

I got our clamshell out for a sitting area and we plugged in the power cord. Settling into. way of life that suddenly hit my nostalgia button: this is just like being in a marina! Suddenly the unfamiliar became familiar to me as I walked across the road to the air conditioned (!) shower block and noted the open air and well equipped laundry space, the cleanliness and the useful signage.

In a world where the middle classes like to live in extravagantly large homes I'm not sure bunking down like this would appeal much except as an eccentric adventure. For me the advantages of the RV park are not compensation enough for the restrictions necessarily. To keep. bunch of human beings looking civilized takes four pages of rules, and their enforcement is required.

So for a rule follower like me there is a slight, but overriding sense that somewhere somehow I am slipping. I had to buy a special non retracting leash to be legal here so the first night I walked Rusty self consciously, surreptitiously trying not to be obvious with a very short retractable leash. I get their point: people do mangle their skin with retractable leashes, and considering the 911 calls I get I know people are, or can be, dim. Therefore eliminate any chance of a screw up and ban the possibility of injury inflicted by a retractable leash. So we went to Lowe's and spent ten bucks on a traditional six footer to keep the overlords happy.

And yes, after my late night solo shower I turned off the lights. Ten years at Hogwarts during the British energy crisis of the 1970s and turning off unused electric lights has been beaten into my psyche.

By way of compensation the park is pretty and large and has a couple of dog parks which Rusty doesn't care for, and the people are pleasant enough, the ones that make eye contact. But clearly we are short termers, and live as I do in the Keys, I understand the lack of enthusiasm for investing in a person who is here today and gone tomorrow. A pleasant hallo and on we walk. Rusty loves the soft grass at our site and as the site next to us is empty her sits like little prince in the grass, carefully tethered (to the van, not the tree, that was my first night faux pas) and with paws crossed loves watching the activity in the park. 

For us without a towed vehicle (a "toad" in the lingo of RV life) and lacking electric bicycles in the modern fashion, we unplug the van and take it for a drive to pick up prescriptions and buy ready made meals at Trader Joe's. Fortunately a 21 foot van is an easy vehicle to drive and park, shorter as it is than many over sized pick ups. I parked under the shade a couple of blocks from the crowded Trader Joe's parking lot, and with Rusty of course, waited to receive a summons to meet the busy shopper. This was a meeting area it turned out for parents waiting to pick up children at an elementary school. When I left the place was thick with idling SUVs. I wonder what happened to the school bus concept?

Monday morning at ten o'clock my wife has a reverse shoulder replacement where they cut off her arm and stick it back with the cup and ball of her shoulder joint replaced with metal inserts and reversed to take advantage of as much bone as her arthritis has left her in the joint. It is supposed to take two hours and we should be free to drive home, GANNET2 acting as an ambulance, on Tuesday. My pelvic surgery took four goes with the longest lasting seven hours so you can imagine how much I rag her about her modest little operation. It's not really so simple but in a few weeks she should at last be pain free and able to once again use her arm. And to achieve that all this will be worth it. Then the preparation for retirement and life on the road will begin in earnest.

The cup and ball above are reversed- on the left the normal arrangement with no change in their positions, on the right they are reversed to create a stronger joint where there is less bone. All should be done by lunch time. I shall be with Rusty in the van chewing my nails.