Bertha Street is a funny old street that you'd hardly notice unless you were looking for it. That's not because it's out of the way, far from it, but Bertha isn't a street that makes itself known to the thousands of cars that trundle up and down it, season after season. This is Bertha at Flagler, in the evening hours:
Bertha begins at the end of South Roosevelt Boulevard, the four lane roadway that circles the southeastern shore of Key West. The road known to the State of Florida as A1A ends at a sharp turn inland,known to locals as "The Ramp" because there used to be a public boat launch ramp there. Nowadays its a cement wall, shown here looking south on Bertha towards The Ramp:
The tall buildings at the bottom of the street are Atlantic Condominiums and together with La Brisa across the street form a canyon leading north from the beach. La Brisa to the east:
Atlantic Condos to the west:
Florida is famous for its rows of massive condos lining beaches everywhere but it is a fad that hasn't completely taken over Key West just yet. The city now has a height restriction which attempts to control the desire of developers to build tall. These however snuck through...The rest of Bertha Street is pretty much just as homely, with an intersection at Atlantic Boulevard where cars take their lives into their hands crossing the traffic flow to head to Higgs Beach:
The rest of Bertha manages quite nicely to defy the common view of Key West as that picturesque little burg. Off to the right of this picture by a couple of blocks lies the Key West High School:
The houses and apartments lining the street reflect utility for the most part, but gthey show individuality nonetheless:
I never tire of noting that there are parents in Key West who nag on about there being nothing to do for their offspring in the city. Being child free myself it's a difficult judgement call to make, but here on unpromising Bertha Street we have this fine erection, a covered skating rink for the delectation of our bored youth:
Less magnificent but still critically needed by bored adults is the corner store further up the street. They were looking at me a bit old fashioned as I parked the motorcycle, so I sauntered off up the street looking for things to photograph and came across Hans Hamel's VW shop next to the new storefront church:
I've never seen the roll up door at Hamel's shop ever actually rolled up and that could be explained by the access alongside:
I also spotted this very useful looking contraption nearby; it almost qualifies as Art:
While across the street Shanna Key, the Irish pub, was doing a fair imitation of a sidewalk cafe in the evening sun:
The liquor purchases were still happening at the corner store down the street as I made my way back:
Gathering outside the package store is apparently a daily event:
And there you have it, the tough working class underbelly of the little town at the end of the island chain. Well, not really but it sounds good. Key West isn't all frou frou wine bars and conch cottages.
Bertha begins at the end of South Roosevelt Boulevard, the four lane roadway that circles the southeastern shore of Key West. The road known to the State of Florida as A1A ends at a sharp turn inland,known to locals as "The Ramp" because there used to be a public boat launch ramp there. Nowadays its a cement wall, shown here looking south on Bertha towards The Ramp:The tall buildings at the bottom of the street are Atlantic Condominiums and together with La Brisa across the street form a canyon leading north from the beach. La Brisa to the east:Atlantic Condos to the west:Florida is famous for its rows of massive condos lining beaches everywhere but it is a fad that hasn't completely taken over Key West just yet. The city now has a height restriction which attempts to control the desire of developers to build tall. These however snuck through...The rest of Bertha Street is pretty much just as homely, with an intersection at Atlantic Boulevard where cars take their lives into their hands crossing the traffic flow to head to Higgs Beach:The rest of Bertha manages quite nicely to defy the common view of Key West as that picturesque little burg. Off to the right of this picture by a couple of blocks lies the Key West High School:The houses and apartments lining the street reflect utility for the most part, but gthey show individuality nonetheless:I never tire of noting that there are parents in Key West who nag on about there being nothing to do for their offspring in the city. Being child free myself it's a difficult judgement call to make, but here on unpromising Bertha Street we have this fine erection, a covered skating rink for the delectation of our bored youth:Less magnificent but still critically needed by bored adults is the corner store further up the street. They were looking at me a bit old fashioned as I parked the motorcycle, so I sauntered off up the street looking for things to photograph and came across Hans Hamel's VW shop next to the new storefront church:I've never seen the roll up door at Hamel's shop ever actually rolled up and that could be explained by the access alongside:I also spotted this very useful looking contraption nearby; it almost qualifies as Art:While across the street Shanna Key, the Irish pub, was doing a fair imitation of a sidewalk cafe in the evening sun:The liquor purchases were still happening at the corner store down the street as I made my way back:Gathering outside the package store is apparently a daily event:And there you have it, the tough working class underbelly of the little town at the end of the island chain. Well, not really but it sounds good. Key West isn't all frou frou wine bars and conch cottages.
There is a street at the southern end of Stock Island, and it is only a block long but it is home to the two largest marinas for pleasure boats on Stock Island. Peninsular Avenue appears to be misspelled, a fact that always gives me perverse joy, but the old Peninsular Marine that used to live at the end of the street is long gone. Peninsular was a fabulous place, a slice of old Key West, that would give a bourgeois boater like me shivers of pleasure and dread. They hauled boats out at Peninsular, what landlubbers call "dry docking" and I spent many a miserable hour on the hard painting and sanding and getting sanded myself by the howling winter winds which raise dust clouds across the unpaved boatyard. A few hardy souls rented relatively cheap boat slips and lived in the marina year round. From the Florida State Library this is what Peninsular looked like in 1974 and it didn't change much until it was sold a couple of years ago. 
There used to be the fiberglass shop here and at the water's edge there was a sail loft where you could take a sail or a bag or a project and have someone peer down from their mezzanine space and tell you how much and how soon it could be done (that was in the white building across the water shown in the old photo above). On the other side of the sail loft there were some cranky old plastic chairs under an overhang and you could sit and look out at the boats in the slips and the travel lift nearby hauling boats out of the water.Even hardier types left their boats permanently "on the hard" and used them as apartments, as solidly aground as any house in Old Town. It was a weird place, with bathrooms that resembled Turkish prisons (as depicted in Midnight Express, at least) foul with God only knows what. That was then, Peninsular Marine was sold and a new Yuppie apparition took it's place:
Now it's all spic and span, fit even for my wife's Vespa ET4 to visit:
The travel lift still exists though in the former shrimp docks on the north side of Peninsular Avenue, now deserted and for sale:
There was a desolate air to the whole place. The old shrimp docks used to be vibrant with all the activity one associates with the fishing industry, and the crazy lifestyles across the street at Peninsular, and now this at the old shrimp docks:
And this at the gruesome new Yacht Club of the Americas, all big and clean and empty:
I guess the old Peninsular was more homey for me than this place ever will be. I'm no fan of gated communities with secret passwords and all that stuff:
Apparently I'm not alone. This place used to have some sort of a club house with a restaurant and they announced in the paper they were closing "temporarily" to regroup, but I doubt the world wide economic collapse has done their prospects any good. Down the street the old Oceanside Marina has been sold also and the new owners there took back the marina's old name Kings Pointe for whatever reason. And they too seem to be having difficulty adjusting to the new realities of life in the land of former abundance. $120,000 for a place to store a boat?
Silly me, banksters still need places to keep their toys...and Kings Pointe isn't a bad spot though perhaps not as flash as the moribund Yacht Club of the Americas (nee Peninsular). Kings Pointe has a gateway but mercifully no locked gate:
The docks here are of the fixed variety, and a few years ago you could buy one of these for something less than $200,000 as I recall. Oh happy days!
During the boom years they also built a bunch of apartments on the south side of the marina visible in the back of the marina:
The only good thing I can think of about this depression is that runaway development has come to a screeching halt. I just kind of wish Peninsular were still there, grody and grungy and always firm on their prices. I don't miss the haul outs at all, but now I realise I lived through an era that is gone forever.
For many visitors to Key West the big deal is to do what the locals do as the locals do it. I'm not sure that eating at Miami Subs is going to be such a desirable thing even after I have pointed out this is a favorite local's hang out. It's not a warm and fuzzy place to get dinner, and its not dripping with Keys ambiance, but Miami Subs serves up an honest plate of food for a decent price and one doesn't have to hang around to get it either. You can even do the whole drive through thing if you don't want to get out of your car:
Key West was in the grip of yet anther cold front one evening recently and I was fresh from my chiropractor's office as the sun went down. My wife suggested dinner and Miami Subs came instantly to mind. Cheap cheerful and efficient, two gyro platters, double salad no fries, a shared bottomless fountain drink and twenty dollars out of pocket:
A gyro platter (pronounced hero because them Greeks are a tricky bunch, what with their particular alphabet and all), hits the spot and even though the dining hall isn't particularly warm and romantic we enjoy eating there:
Clearly this isn't someplace fancy but you still have the choice to sink a ton of cash at Louie's Backyard or Sarabeth's or the Marquesa House, but Miami Subs in Key West is the local's haunt.
Noel likes their grilled chicken sandwich their milk shakes and fried mozzarella cheese sticks. His boyfriend Matt is partial to their wings and the Breyer's ice cream. Me? I like the crunchy bread they put around their hamburgers but whatever it is they seem to do it well at the Key West store.
I've eaten at Miami Subs in Homestead and in Miami but neither place comes up to the standard set by the store in Key West. The food here just seems better, besides which it has parking no small thing in Key West, and they also make room for motorcycles:
Beside if you aren't driving you can get beer or wine to go with your meal, alcohol is an important contribution to happy Keys dining. The chain was founded by a Greek immigrant entrepreneur in Miami which is why it has a smattering of Greek inspired dishes. In 2001 Konstantin Boulis was murdered in a Miami ambush by persons unknown and for motives only hinted at. The belief was that his sale of his SunCruz gambling boats to notorious Washington lobbyist Jack Abramoff might have had something to do with his killing which was quite spectacular apparently. Boulis was in his car when another vehicle cut him off and a second car pulled alongside and shot him to death in best mobster style. Weird but true. 
The other handy thing about Miami Subs in Key West is that it's easy to locate on the Boulevard next to the Circle K convenience store at First Street.
Eat like a local...at Miami Subs. Bet you weren't expecting that?
They don't make Rivas like these at Yamaha any more, or if they do they are no longer imported into the US. I think this one was a 125 cc model though they made them up to around 200cc, pretty much identical to this one, ridden two up on North Roosevelt Boulevard:
I was pondering the little white Yamaha, not least probably because I was facing a mid term exam and dawdling on my way to class. It occurred to me this Yamaha was pretty close to being an ideal scooter, especially when I started noticing the details. The sturdy and useful luggage rack with built in bungee attachment points and a helmet lock:
Let us not forget the ridiculous safety stickers designed and deployed solely for the litigious US market:
I liked the two stands that are provided, a solid side stand as well as the neatly folded center stand:
The scooter had a rubber foot mat and a foot brake for the rear drum:
The right hand switch cluster had the kill button, the left hand pretty much everything else:
All big and easy to use like the speedometer (notice the stand deployed light!):
I haven't ridden the Riva but I suspect a 125cc model would be gasping if it closed in on 60mph (95kph). I read a comment by an owner of a 200 Riva and he said it was big enough to maintain freeway speeds so that sounds a bit more like it. In any event I look at this Riva with just 1500 miles on the clock and I see an eminently practical machine, check the mud flap built in...
... and a nicely proportioned ride with a big comfortable seat and a hand rail for the passenger:
...with nice lines reminiscent of a Vespa, a much more expensive ride. Of course I liked my Vespa 250 which closely resembled this machine parked in Key West:
When it ran it ran beautifully, up to 85 miles per hour and used but one gallon of premium every 72 miles. However mine was plagued by unreliable electronics and I was forced to sell it. My wife's Vespa 150 runs just fine with a simple carburettor, hitting speeds up to 65 mph (105kph) and I enjoy taking it for a ride from time to time:
Between the two Vespas and an ill fated Indian Stella 150 two-stroke scooter I must have commuted around 15,000 miles (25,000 kms) on Highway One and I have noticed a big difference when I ride the same route on a motorcycle. While I remain a big fan of scooters I find it easier to be on the road on a motorcycle when surrounded by homicidal car drivers. They just don't seem to respect scooter's right to be on the road like they do big nasty Triumphs and I should note I have owned several Vespas in my previous life starting early with a 50cc special in 1970. I also rode a Vespa P200 across the US and Mexico in 1981 and enjoyed using the Vespa as my daily rider for another ten years in California. The largest motorcycle I owned was an 1100cc Honda Gold Wing which was not a good fit for me, unlike the 900cc Bonneville, shown here scaring wildlife:
The Bonneville means business, and though I ride it no faster on my commute than I ever did the 250cc Vespa GTS, I rarely get crowded by stupid car drivers. People used to cut me off, tailgate me and try to outrun me when, to their amazement I passed them while riding my "moped." The Vespa was a wonderfully practical way to get around with lots of lockable, dry storage, a more comfortable seat than any motorcycle I've ridden along with excellent weather protection. Yet I find my 900cc Bonneville with three times the horsepower of the Vespa to be more practical, even though it uses more gas (45mpg) simply because it inspires more respect.
The Keys aren't a practical or sensible environment for boy racers, with not many roads and all of them desperately straight, yet lots of people ride these superb, over-powered machines and as you can see lots of them ride wearing a bare minimum of protective gear. I don't always wear a helmet or my protective clothing when I ride and I find the suffocating blanket requirement on web forums for all riders to be armored at all times to be rather tedious. New devotees of the sport tend to be rather more focussed on the risks than the pleasure it seems to me. They've discovered this excellent new-to-them means of locomotion and they want everyone to share their need for total protection all the time, so they get preachy. I also find the debates between scooter riders and motorcyclists to be irritating because I don't see the need for riders to worry so much about what they ride. Hell I rent Harleys when I can and I enjoy them very much! On the scooter front I like, in theory, Yamaha's 500cc, 100mph (160kph), T Max recently introduced to the US. I found this photo on a French motorcycle website and I think it looks gorgeous:
Bobscoot in Canada, like me (horrors! we have something in common), rides a scooter as well as his rather toothsome Suzuki 650. His scooter is a powerful Kymco 500, pictured rather suavely in France in this picture (not chez Bobscoot incidentally). This is another good looking scooter able to cruise at highway speeds with excellent weather protection and comfort:
The Frenchman depicted above is very relaxed and debonair in full riding leathers, zooming across town. Apparently there are scooterists in the US that believe they don't need protective gear because they are just scooters which is silly because falling off is falling off and it hurts and the ground doesn't care what you are riding. As long as you understand the risk, make your own informed choice...hell, my knee still hurts from tripping while walking and chewing gum! Check out this portly Honda Goldwing, known to Allen Madding as a honda-potamus thanks to it's general massiveness:
It's too much motorcycle for me, with its reverse gear, built-in everything electronic, optional airbag, and all it's bulk. I'd rather buzz around town and into the country on a slender, perky BMW 650 single like this one which is ridden daily around Key West:
But whatever you ride you need training to be truly as safe as you can be. I am a believer in the value of using your head for active safety, rather than worrying so much about what you wear or choose not to wear. Or worse yet what you ride. If I were planning another cross country trip I'd think about that other Japanese work horse, the Honda Helix, a 250cc machine that can barely hit 70 miles per hour but that has a record for reliability and sturdiness second to none, with huge load carrying and extreme comfort built in (no air bags though):
There is a reason we ride what we ride and that boils down simply to image, like it or not. Our machines reflect the image we want to project of ourselves, and practicality has almost nothing to do with it. Car drivers frequently claim they are locked into practical requirements like load carrying and cost rather than driving for the sport of the thing- and their tedium and lack of interest shows as they steer. Motorcycles in the US are still viewed largely as toys, so instead of riding a sensible scooter we give ourselves a thrill by commuting like a Grand Prix racer, or like me by invoking the gods of my youth- fuel petcocks, air cooled engine fins and sexy rounded fuel tanks: 
I don't need a Bonneville, I like my Bonneville and I really don't care what other people ride as long as they are enjoying themselves in their own way and leave me to enjoy my own self image. Long live all scooters, motorcycles and Harley Davidsons. And their well trained riders, of course. 