Road Block

Is it a big deal? I don't think so in this case but Dorn Road has lost the last quarter of a mile of it's five mile length (measured from Highway One).

The road has been sinking at this spot for some time but I guess the dip got bad enough that the county decided to close the end of the road to traffic.

There is also this hole which promises a more widespread problem underneath the apparently solid surface. Good idea to close off the road especially as there are no houses beyond the break.

I love the solitude at the end of Dorn Road. You can hear the traffic on the highway if there is a strong breeze but often you are in the middle of nowhere in silence. The last two houses on the end of this road are off the grid as the power lines stopped a mile or so back.

The high tides are encroaching in the mangroves pushing colors and shapes ahead of them in the form of frothy mud.

There is nothing out here, 28 miles from Duval Street.

"Nothing" is an exaggeration, there are always graffiti and in this case a Carolina Dog hanging out.

The red reflectors used to be here at the turnout at the very end of the road.

The cement barricades used to be here, blocking off a side trail which is now no longer accessible to vehicles.

I wonder how long it will take for the road surface to give way to nature as it is left to it's own devices?

This barricades gave me an increased feeling of isolation for some reason that I could not put my finger on.

And then after a surprisingly long wander we got home and Rusty spent a little time sun bathing in his favorite spot on the tiled driveway.

He likes living here enough he doesn't bother to leave which he could very well do as there is no fence to prevent him.

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Boca Chica Hike

I was not quite so demonstrative but I enjoyed going deep into the back country at Boca Chica Beach.

I haven't been all the way back for years. Cheyenne came back a time or two soon after I got her from the pound. This picture from 2009:

Rusty had great fun running down the beach and working his way through the bushes. The shoe fence is still there:

Some people like to leave their mark as they go. I take pictures and leave footprints where there is sand or mud. Some build cairns for whatever obscure purpose:

There is also an elaborate stick structure that Cheyenne found fascinating in 2010:

And which Rusty circle in delight in 2016. They have done their best to give it a suburban sort of look with decorations and even a disabled Yamaha Zuma scooter parked along the far side. Ready for the commute as it were:

It is a desolate and lovely coastline with a sandy trail barely discernible among the rocks and mangrove roots:

The first obstacle is this water crossing. It's enough of a river to have encouraged one man to set up his nude sun worshiping location just before the gap in the beach. This area is noted for its nude sunbathing, and more.

Rusty's confidence in me has gone up enormously in the two months we have been together and he took the plunge fearlessly when I indicated we had to cross.

The little Carolina Dog is quite the acrobat:

I was wading thigh deep in the water which happily was quite warm but fast flowing like a river on a rising tide.

This beach also has it's share of Cuban Chugs, the name given to the craft they build out of found materials to cross the Straits of Florida, 90 miles of potentially extremely rough waters. I admire their guts, building these things in a country where it's forbidden and then taking off on such a journey seeking a chance to land avoiding the coastguard who would take them back to Cuba. Once they get ashore they are safe and can stay.

The Cubans also put engines in their Chugs. Some are gas powered and some diesel adapted for marine use. It is remarkable ingenuity and bravery, so I hate seeing posts on Facebook each time there is a landing where people spit on these Cubans for wanting to come here for "the benefits." Only someone who has never emigrated, or left their home town can imagine that these journeys are undertaken lightly for a chance to not work and help their families. I emigrated in a commercial jet airliner and that was tough enough.

Sometimes the stray dog comes out in Rusty. His frolicking was interrupted by the sight of something mysterious and weird and of deep concern. When he gets worried he sits and stares just like this in the picture below. He had spotted the pelican bobbing on the water, a dark dot in the top right of the picture.

He explored every inch of the woods:

In 2010 this sturdily built canal to allow the flow of water in and out of the bay was only half built:

Now it's finished and you can't cross to the last piece of open road, Old State Road 4A that used to go all the way to Stock Island.

We turned back and walked the much shorter faster direct route on the old asphalt back to the beach:

Rusty was not tired by the heat and was always alert, looking around:

An extinct civilization, an old power pole:

Back at the beach a cool breeze was blowing and Rusty set off to explore the woods behind the trail. He didn't want to miss a thing. I played with my iPhone camera:

On the last stretch there was one final terror that forced me to put Rusty on a leash for the last half mile. This red thing was bobbing and weaving looking to kill my little brown dog:

We made it safely out of there. Rusty has even got used to me rinsing him off after a wet walk and he took his bath in stride. Then it was time for a very long deep nap.

When I made too much noise in the living room he went to his bed in the bedroom. When I retired to the bedroom for a nap after my chores and before I went to work, he got up wearily and went to find some peace and quiet on the couch in the living room. He really needed his sleep poor boy.

 

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Being From Florida

You Know You're A Floridian...

As you may have noticed I don't do many posts that involve cutting and pasting on Key West Diary, but this list crossed my path recently and it always makes me laugh. I last posted it in 2011. It is, as the cliche has it, an oldie but goodie:You Know You’re a Floridian if…
You never use an umbrella because you know the rain
will be over in five minutes

A good parking place has nothing to do with distance
from the store, but everything to do with shade.

Your winter coat is made of denim

You can tell the difference between fire ant bites
and mosquito bites

Some of your friends are over 65

Anything under 70 degrees is chilly.

You pass on the right and honk at the elderly.

You’ve driven through Yeehaw Junction.

You could swim before you could read

You have to drive north to get to The South

You know that no other grocery store can compare to
Publix.

You know that anything under a Category 3 just isn’t
worth waking up for.

You are on a first name basis with the Hurricane
list. They aren’t Hurricane Charley, Hurricane
Frances…but Charley , Frances , Ivan and Jeanne.

You know what a snowbird is and when they will leave.
You know why flamingos are pink.

You think a six-foot alligator is actually pretty
average.

You were twelve before you ever saw snow or you still
haven’t.

“Down South” means Key West (or Cuba)

“Panhandling” means going to Pensacola

Flip-flops are everyday wear.

Shoes are for business meetings and church.

No, wait, flip flops are good for church too, unless
it’s Easter or Christmas.

An alligator once walked through your neighborhood.

.You roll your eyes when a game show’s
“Grand Prize” is a cruise to Florida .

You measure distance in minutes.

You have a drawer full of bathing suits, and one
sweatshirt.

All the local festivals are named after a fish.

A mountain is any hill 100 feet above sea level.

You know the four seasons really are: Almost summer,
Summer, Not summer but really hot, and Christmas.

It’s not soda, cola, or pop. It’s coke, regardless of
brand or flavor, “What kinda coke you want?”

Anything under 95 is just warm.

You’ve hosted a hurricane party.

You understand the futility of exterminating
cockroaches.

You can pronounce Okeechobee, Kissimmee and
Withlacoochee and Micanopy .

You understand why it’s better to have a friend with a
boat, than have a boat yourself.

Bumper stickers on the pickup in front of you include:
various fish, NRA, Nascar, Go Gators, and a
confederate flag.

You were 5 before you realized they made houses
without pools.

You were 25 when you first met someone who couldn’t
swim.

You get angry when people say ” Florida isn’t really
part of the SOUTH”

You’ve worn shorts and used the A/C on Christmas.

You know what the “stingray shuffle” is, and why it’s
important!You recognize Dade County as "Northern Cuba"

Big Pine Hole

Most of the waters around the Keys are pretty shallow, less than six feet which is good in the event there is a storm as waves can't build...but it's not much good for swimming as your feet easily touch bottom. Then there are places where people of enterprise have tried to build and their efforts have left behind deep holes, what were to have been canal access for waterfront homes. One such is the Big Pine swimming hole:

It was, I suppose too good to last because now the Free Press is reporting there are plans to make this informal spot an official county park. 

The newspaper included a graphic depiction of what is to come with boardwalks and facilities and so forth. On the one hand that will be nice and on the other we will see more encroachment of rules and requirements and so on. And there have been some few rules in place already, amidst the parched dirt and scrubby bushes:

I haven't been swimming here for a while, ever since we moved to a short canal with few homes on it, making it easy to swim in our own backyard. Nevertheless, bring a towel and a chair if you want and you are good to go. No boardwalk needed really:

The last time I was here was with my wife swimming and also with my dog walking, but Cheyenne quickly lost interest in this spot as it is not much visited by dogs an there's not much to smell.

I wonder how welcome dogs will be in the future.

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