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!

Conch Plaza

Key West has the great good fortune, possibly, to be endowed with fully four shopping centers in the modern suburban style. The smallest and newest anchor store is GFS, the acronym for Gordon Food Service.

I can't remember when this place showed up and hunting around the Internet and on my own page the earliest reference I could find was in 2008 when I said it opened "a few years ago..."  My, time flies! I guess this place has been around for at least 15 years. It's where restaurants ( and the public) go to get bulk supplies.

Like every other open space on the Boulevard you can get scooters and golf carts for rent.

And I find inexpensive clothing here too. Ordering online is as big a deal in the Keys as elsewhere I guess, and because we are connected by road delivery times are as fast here as anywhere else in Florida. This isn't Alaska, Puerto Rico or Hawaii, the great exceptions to overnight delivery options!

Jobs are still going begging in the Keys but the pandemic had the unfortunate effect of putting enough people over the financial edge they simply left the Keys and went elsewhere.

And after your low paid shift at Bealls deliver a few pizzas  to make an exorbitant rent. In dispatch we have 7 open positions out of 15 budgeted by the city.

Not so long ago, though I'm not sure now how long ago that was, Keys West had not a single Starbucks. We recently lost the cruise ship outlet on Front Street but the one on Duval at La Concha is in business and this one offers thoroughly modern drive though coffees.  

I can't resist an abstract pattern...

...or two...

Follow the sign for cheap food!

My Walk

I was in Tampa when news came of the ransomware terrorist attack on the oil pipeline was made public.  I was 400 miles from home about the limit of the Promaster's range and I wondered if we were going to see lines and shortages and the usual fuel fiasco after such announcements.

Oddly enough I saw nothing of the sort and we filled up before we left and saw no problems on the way including a refill along I-75 near Naples. I got home with half a tank and I have seen no signs of shortages since.

The newspaper says there was panic buying which caused shortages in South Florida as tankers couldn't move fast enough to supply the gas stations. All of which was unnecessary as South Florida was not affected by the interruptions to the Colonial Pipeline.

The world of Internet crime seems pervasive with all the little scams and personal phone calls and annoying messages trying to separate us from our common sense and our money. I feel as though we are moving beyond the 20th century crime sprees of theft and robbery and violence into a brave new world of binary code rip-offs. 

I get calls at work from people receiving those jaded old messages about social security number scams and as much as I try to reassure the unwary they insist the local police should be able to "do something." I wish we could. As unbelievable as it seems to me I get scam social security calls through the 911 lines. I have no idea how they get into the system but there they are with no call back number bugging me about my social security number... 

Little wonder I find relief in walking through the mangroves watching Rusty run and play and cheer me up by coming up to me with a  big grin and not a worry on his mind.

I find articles on line talking about life after the pandemic and all sorts of speculation about how things will be different or the same and how work has changed and expectations are changed and on and on. It seems a bit premature and unnecessary to wonder how life will be, and I figure it will be as it always was more or less. A bit of chaos and disorder with ordinary people trying to make ends meet as usual.

I find it rather odd that I am slipping into retirement as all this wild speculation carries on. My life is supposed to change quite considerably and no thanks to the virus! 

Meanwhile a walk among the mangroves and the mud, the roots and the old anti mosquito trenches cut into the rock is a reminder that most things don't change much. 

I got left behind as Rusty trotted to the car. I couldn't tear myself away from the stillness even though the horseflies were ignoring my insect repellent. The Citizen newspaper reports there are more vaccination doses in Monroe County than people who still need or want to be vaccinated.  Just like the oil pipeline we seem to have more trouble distributing than producing as we have too much vaccine and other countries don't have enough. It is a funny old world and every day I feel lucky to be here. Tomorrow it may be somewhere else but I'll take the stillness of the mangroves with me.

The Routine

It seems reverse shoulder surgery is a routine operation and people are getting it done all over the country all the time. That doesn't exactly lessen the impact of the individual operation when it strikes close to home but I reassured my wife I was certain it would go well and it did.

I got to walk Rusty when we got home and we both enjoyed being out in familiar haunts even if Rusty did have to undergo the indignity of a soapy bath after sitting repeatedly in the ocean. Summer is here and heat is turned up as you would expect in mid May and a dog needs a cooling dip even if he doesn't like to swim.

Modern surgery is extraordinary inasmuch as Layne was tended in the recovery room, but once breathing on her own was stuffed in the van from a  wheelchair and off we went to the hotel.  It was in my childhood only half a century ago that laying around in hospital beds after being cut up was routine. Nowadays they ship you out immediately. And it works.

The theory is that surgery leads to wellness, though it is a rocky path. The good news is the lacerated shoulder which caused immense pain will eventually be pain free with reasonable arcs of movement we are told. The best news is the path to recovery is clear and obvious and Layne was well prepared for recovery. Unfortunately shoulder surgery hurts a great deal  while the wounds mend.

I got to walk away for a while as she is in the capable hands of her sister, a retired family doctor who understands narcotics and slings and muscles and movement. I am at best a helpless bystander trying to learn the ropes. Medicare I have to report has been great, no bills no arguing over permitted procedures, no hassles.  I can't wait to turn 66 myself and get with the program.

In a broader sense this operation has started the count down to our retirement together next year. My wife said to me that while I was driving her home and she was sitting up in bed in the back of the van she was plotting new strategies to pack and store stuff for the trip next year. The next big step is her retirement in three weeks from the Monroe County School District. 

Rusty has also stepped up and this past week showed strong signs of accepting the new status of his life as a traveling dog. In order to escape the chaos of the hotel room with two loud talking Jewish women in it he sat by the door. I took him out for a walk glad of an excuse to escape and he walked me in a beeline to the van parked a block away. I slid the side door open and he jumped in and bounded onto the bed where he curled up. I opened the back doors and sat in the side door way for half an hour to allow his jangled nerves to settle and we both reluctantly went back up the room.

Home is home and   sometimes we have to squeeze our eyes tight shut to remember that better and calmer days are ahead.