Cheyenne At Mile Zero

Preventing me from going home to enjoy a pot of tea on International Tea Day.

Key West's Charm

How is it I've never seen (noticed) this mural before?

It is on the side of this place that used to be musical instrument store on Caroline Street.

It's getting closer to Christmas than I realize. And as that deadline hurtles towards us...

Hanukkah is upon us. Tomorrow.

Thanksgiving was our big holiday this year so we can allow ourselves to slide by this most stressful time.

Snow as decorative motif is as much white as I need. On a bicycle no less.

Telegraph Lane behind Rick's has been freshly repaved, not surprising considering a city commissioner owns the bar. However the sidewalk looks like a third world dump. Civic pride Key West style.

Apparently the party at the Grand on Duval went late. They left the glasses out until morning.

Another dump located in the yard of a historic home, they say. Perhaps Key West has a surfeit of historic yards such that not all of them can be kept pristine.

Cheyenne did her best to keep Key West clean. The Dion's fried chicken bag never stood a chance.

"Good morning." He looked up bleary eyed at my dog. Young, idle and too cheap to find a place to sleep.

A friend remarked that part of Key West's charm is it's unkempt style. There you go.

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A Wake For Finnegan's

Walking past the former Irish pub on Grinnell Street I looked in and saw the Book Of...Guinness just lying there. It seemed like a Sign, except I don't believe in signs, especially as the last rumor I heard had my favorite pub coming back as a Cajun Restaurant. Great; trade in Colcannon for jambalaya. Guinness for Abita. I love New Orleans, but not when it displaces Finnegan's Wake.

 

The exterior of the venerable pub looks much the same except cleaner and freshly painted. The Irish greeting, "a thousand million welcomes" or some such over the top Celtic greeting still dangles in the breeze. I'm not sure if it's preseverence is encouraging or an annoyingly drawn out farewell.

Finnegan's needed a clean up and I like how it looks now but I miss the pub.

The old website is still up for a touch of nostalgia.

I'm hoping for the best...and expecting the worst.

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Loafing On Sugarloaf

I have 500 fresh miles on the P200E back from the shop and I am working diligently to get out from under the burden of running in the new engine. Thus it was I chose to abandon my dog early on Thursday afternoon and chose instead to duck off the tyranny of the Overseas Highway for a short diversion south at Sugarloaf Lodge.

The weather has been bright and sunny but cool this week, especially in the early morning before dawn as I wend my way home with a visor that fogs at traffic lights and hands that feel the crisp chill of 58  degree darkness. So I packed my heavy winter riding jacket on the front rack to wear home and save my teeth from chattering. I do enjoy the versatility of the old Vespa.

I took the south shore of Sugarloaf Key  and stopped at the bridge over the creek for pictures and a dude on a fishing skiff obliged by zipping by to break up the pastoral serenity. All pictures need a little action from time to time.

 American Shoal Lighthouse was just visible as a pin on the horizon.

I had spotted a couple of motorcycles or scooters in the distance ahead of me as I rode enjoying the light and the scenery. They went beyond the bridge, probably to the end of the road where there is a foot trail, into the mangroves,where Cheyenne and I took a Short Walk a  few years ago. The motorcycles, for they were low slung cruisers much loved by part time riders around here, burbled by and returned my happy smile with glares such as might be projected by their hard core brethren on Sons of Anarchy.

 It was good, pausing for a minute before getting back on the conveyor belt to work.  I just wished my dog was there.

Key West Cold

The clouds, the rain, the winds have moved on and Key West basks in winter sunshine. This is as winter should be, at least for those of us allergic to snow and sleet.

Park your bicycle with all your possessions aboard and take in some rays. Life is good at Higgs Beach.

I love these primary colors, the crisp 65 degree air, the sound of my Labrador snoring.

I am not a fan of lager beer, preferring slightly more robust beers that aren't acidic IPAs. But I do notice clever advertising. Longboard liquid aloha makes you want to like lager! It's also a reminder of what Key a West isn't.

The four lies about Key West: that it is tropical, that it is an island, that it is in the Caribbean and that life here is laid back. The reality is slightly different.

It's all advertising of course, chamber of commerce propaganda that shaves a little off reality here and there. The story reads better that way, however when this is reality, al fresco lunch in December, the alterations to reality don't seem to amount to much!

And better than Hawaii, here you can take road trips...

...fly to New York in half a day...or Bogotà if you prefer...

...or any of the European capitals over night.

Or you can just stay on the Rock...

...and take a nap. Old age has it's privileges.

 

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Renewing Key West

It is said by some residents of the city of Key West that from time to time they need to get off "the Rock." I live in the county but I enjoy making the trip to the mainland, better by motorcycle,but even by car I like taking advantage of the road that connects, otherwise one might as well live in Hawaii and enjoy a real island lifestyle. 

So after a week driving around in mainstream America one comes home to a fresh appreciation for the architecture of island life. Old Town, for all its lack of polish, retains a certain verve with its gingerbread decorations and relative solidity and permanence of its 19th century wooden structures.

The plainest of facades gets a lift from the old style Florida louvers on the windows.

The contrast is stark between the norm of suburban Florida where cookie cutter homes line the roads and this:

Or this:

Or this:

I was chatting with my boss earlier this week about why we enjoy living here. Jessica, a native Floridian half my age refuses to live elsewhere. That her boyfriend makes his living extracting oil from the frozen tundra is his problem. She, the Florida native, can't leave the Keys.

Odd that; I'm not a native anywhere much and I feel the same way. It just takes a week among the cold leafless trees Up North to remind me of that same sentiment and put it uppermost in my mind.

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