Spring In The Keys

Dar lives in that part of the world where the Federal Police wear red,

and where people rejoice in the fact that they have seasons.

So much so she issued a challenge.

Now I don't want to be a dick, Asperger's notwithstanding which makes me sound like a dick frequently anyway, but Spring around here looks pretty much like this because it looks like this all the time.

I like perpetual summer. If I need a dose of cold or colored leaves I'll happily take a drive or better yet a ride, poke around and turn tail back to endless summer. The thing is that when you live in this sort of climate you get used to 80 plus degrees (27 Canadian degrees) so a cold front starts to chill when temperatures go below 70/20. That's seasonal in the Keys.

Cheyenne appreciates every little dip in temperature even though some winter days get hot and humid of course. This time of year she gets to be a dog vampire spending sunlit hours sleeping in the air conditioning.

Swimming has started in earnest now that water temperatures are consistently warm. We've been swimming in salt water for about six weeks, tentatively at first but now most days we take a dip in the canal behind the house. That's the real sign Spring has sprung.

And swimming will continue we hope till October/November when the second cold front of the season will indicate the arrival of Fall. And then we get to open the house up and turn off the air conditioning and Cheyenne gets to come and go without having to clamber through her dog door. As seasonable as I need it thanks.

Visitors

 The  USCG Barque Eagle paid Key West a port visit for Memorial Day.

 The history of this ship is  extraordinary not least because it was built in Germany in 1936 and named for the Nazi martyr Horst Wessell. After the war the US  figured it would make a useful reparation and nowadays all Coast Guard trainee officers have to serve on the ship climbing its eerily tall masts as part of their service. It seems they also have to hump boxes to keep the ship humming:

 It got  a fair bit of attention and I wish I'd had the time to take a tour. Retirement will make my life a lot more interesting I think, if it ever comes. That or living on the streets...

The ship gave us  a taste even from across Mallory Square, or perhaps especially from across Mallory Square, of what Key West's waterfront might have resembled a hundred and fifty years ago.

 Speaking of visitors my wife's cousin came to stay a few days from San Francisco. Daiyu grew up in Thailand where she keeps a beach house and which to my shame I have yet to visit (damn that retirement!). She has lived in Michigan and even Tallahassee but has made her home in San Francisco where she married into my wife's family. She is not fond of California, complaining of the cold and the fog, the expense and the crowding.  She quite likes the Keys, a place that struck her as peaceful, simple and inexpensive. It's all a matter of perspective.

I found Daiyu carefully opening a garbage bag in the trash can and inserting the clippings from her flower arrangements into the bag inside the can. What are you doing I asked? In San Francisco she said, they fine you if you don't bag everything properly. Oh not here I said. They're grateful if you even make a half hearted attempt at trying to recycle. Simplicity is in the eye of the householder. She cooked Thai food for a bunch of friends and we spent the evening drinking Grappa and admiring the thunderheads glowing in the dark over plates of green curried chicken and pad Thai and ginger rice pudding on the deck.

Then we went to No Name Pub because San Francisco friends told Daiyu it was not to be missed, all those dollar bills stapled to the walls. She liked the decor, she nibbled some wings and then she fell into a trance when a Key Deer put in an appearance in her life. It's not easy to spot but it's there in the picture:

 Sometimes it helps to get a clearer perspective on home when seen through the eyes of others.

Night Bight

I took  a lunch  break and cast around wondering where to go. There are days, and nights, when I'd like to have a little  mountain to climb, or a wood to  ride through under a full moon. Something different...Hell I can't even ride a loop around here as the roads all dead end into the water. You have to go out and then come back. So you have to be creative sometimes. I got un-creative and went down to the waterfront. It was breezy and cool at three in the morning and I got some nice dock walking in. How do you fancy this porch at the back of your floating second home: 

The  front end is pretty impressive too: 

Owners of power boats choose weird names for their toys. Worth overdoing? Really?

 In the midst of the opulence I was delighted to see a few towels hanging on the life lines. Of course it was a day charter boat, often called a "cattle boat" as they load up dozens of  swimmers and trawl them out to the reef. Like cattle I guess.

 It was a good spot to float away the drunks and the stress and the weirdos calling 911 all night.

 "It's imperative you get an ambulance here!" she screamed in my ear. Imperative? Really? Just ask nicely lady, I won't turn you down. I sent the ambulance. I always do no matter how crazy or imperious the callers are. Then I come out to the water and breathe in the ozone.

 Why power boaters illuminate the water under their boats I have no idea.

 But their extravagance makes for some pretty pictures.

 I mean it really is kind of stupid isn't it? Turning the ocean into a swimming pool...

Turtle Kraals and The Half Shell look much more enticing in the dark across the water than they do up close. They aren't terrible restaurants at all but they are kind of the cattle boat of waterfront eateries around here. At night they look more ...intriguing.

 And so, back down the dock to the Vespa and so to work.

By the way a bight in the world of water means an indentation in a coastline, which thus produces a secure anchorage. Hence Key West Bight (pronounced BITE). Now you know. Of course the city calls it the Historic Seaport or some other pretentious nonsense. It's just a bight.

Vespa Collection From Pinterest

I am not, if I'm honest, much of a social media fan. I have  a Facebook account on which I post nearly daily pictures. I did try Twitter which defeated me as it is to my way of thinking an advertising and promotional tool for business people. I find Twitter rather boring honestly. On the other hand Pinterest is starting to be a little more appealing to me. Perhaps because it is so visual. This first Vespa has been ridden to North Africa and this photo was an ad for the 4W solar panel attached to the front luggage rack. 

I find myself in a  country where scooters are viewed with disdain, an attitude I find to be extraordinary. I have read web posts where motorcyclists refuse to take off their helmets to avoid being identified with a fellow traveler on a scooter. I am astounded. I grew up riding anything with two wheels and an engine and to me the simple act of riding is pure pleasure. I don't care if I'm riding my Vespa, my wife's automatic or my motorcycle, to me anything is better than four wheels. I'm not sure I ever want to attach my Vespa to a sidecar like this one busy crossing the USA:

But a little 125cc job like this below would be fine.  I don't get the prejudice, if you are out riding that's what counts. Over the Memorial Day weekend I got caught in traffic with mainlanders who were freaked out by my 60 mph moped. They tried to cut me off, pull away or brake suddenly to get rear ended by me. I am an old hand so I just keep riding. Freaks.

This Vespa and trailer are being ridden around Australia by a motorcyclist who puts his dog on the platform behind the handlebars while he rides, towing their gear in the trailer. I don't suppose he does 60 mph but he's riding around hanging with riders of "real" motorcycles. It's  not the US so small wheels don't scare big bad motorcyclists.

I have read this guy's blog which is in Italian and here he is in Australia in the middle of his eight month journey around the world on a 1967 125cc boosted to 175cc for the trip. Europeans don't mind riding small machines. I like the adventure myself and I am starting to think my own 1979 Vespa is proving reliable enough for some touring, as much as work allows.

This English owned Vespa crossed Spain to Morocco and had a good time doing it, mostly. I think his basic maintenance could have been better but...one does what one can with what one has. This Rally 200 looks great doing it:

An American!  A New England trip to Vermont from Boston to visit family by this member of the Modern Vespa community. He later moved to Northern California and took his P200 with him. No more road trips reported.

An Italian touring Vespa with fancy saddlebags and compact luggage. I don't like carrying gas on the floor boards as I like to set my feet crosswise especially when I am in the saddle all day. I like to use the luggage hook to carry supplies bought on the road, like a bag with dinner or lunch prior to a stop, or wet laundry or some other sudden need. The hook gives you a place to hang the unexpected impedimenta that lands in your lap on the road.

This unlikely traveler is an Indian built LML which I found to be horridly unreliable. This owner seems confident. Great stuff. Plus he has gas on the useful front rack and room for his feet to move around. The windshield will slow him down and these  bikes in my opinion aren't fast enough to warrant barn door protection to the properly dressed rider.

Another hopeful traveler with saddlebags and spare tires everywhere. He was starting a successful trip from South Africa to Dublin in company with several other identical Vespas.

Found this on Pinterest. Cool dude.

My fleet at home, my wife's not so modern anymore automatic 150cc, my Bonneville which goes too fast for the Keys (!) and my P200.

Have a good weekend, what's left of it.
New PODCAST in the morning!

Monochrome Night Walk

As observed on a walk around the cemetery on a midnight lunch break:

Key West  family wagon: a child carrier in front, a child bike behind...seen at Mangia Mangia.

Typical scenes of Key West sleeping, far from the bars. I sometimes forget these scenes and this peace is not typical in urban America. Too bad because it should be.

A technicolor pedicab on Windsor Lane to end the essay in shades of "real life."