Candid Public Photos

It has been hot and sticky in South Florida, balanced by a continuing fresh breeze making the evenings cool and pleasant. All of which does not mean that sudden downpours are not happening. I was on Front Street meandering without Rusty, when a sudden cloud burst sent me for cover on a bench under an awning, I sat on after the rain and watched people go by.

Ever since my wreck when my helmet saved my life if not my pelvis I notice the unguarded heads riding by, some of them apparently worth photographing.  I don't really care if people wear helmets and I don't favor laws requiring them as we don't have a cohesive health care mandate from the government so taking your chances seems to be in the spirit of personal responsibility. Lots of people wreck in Key West and you never hear about them if you don't answer 911.

I got 50 years of helmeted riding in my memory bank and that seems like a good stretch. My wife is much more traumatized by my time time in the hospital than I am so it seems cruel to insist on continuing to ride at this point. The van is a  surprisingly adequate substitute for getting around.

At age 63 having your own toilet and getting hot cups of tea while driving seem like a reasonable exchange for sitting out in the weather while enjoying near misses from ever more distracted drivers.

It occurs to me you could make a pretty expansive home inside a tour bus. I'd cover up the windows as I feel no need to live my life in full view, but I'll bet they are easy enough to drive as they can handle the narrow Key West streets. 

I have to confess I rarely see interesting people on the streets. I don't like to wear hats and I do like a collar on my shirt but I don't dress a part. I call it the Key West uniform:

And there is a thriving rental company renting dream vehicles for use in Paradise: Jeeps. When I first thought about driving South America I thought about using a Jeep but a little research showed four wheel drive is totally unnecessary for my kind of travel. A good thing to know is the Wrangler is sold world wide so if you do want to travel and not live comfortably in your vehicle a Wrangler is iconic and useful. The things you learn. I learned I like having the comforts in a van on the road. 

One of those things I appreciate about Key West is the lack of attention paid to status symbols. It isn't like it was but there still remains forgiveness for those of us not interested in fashion or costly accessories.

Be yourself they say. So one does. Dress up or dress down and do expect to be thanked one way or the other.

Strangely overcast days alternating with sunshine apparently at random.

A feature of winter living in Key West is the arrival of snowbirds of course, people escaping the cold. Weirdly enough the population of homeless people swells as well during the winter months. Some few hardcore locals hang out through the long hot sweaty rainy summers.  

I asked one of them recently, a guy I see around town all the time if he got bored living on the streets after  47  years in the same town and he looked me as though I was insane. "Key West? Boring?" There goes a man with fortitude I thought to myself as Rich shuffled off shaking his head. 

Sometimes you just have to sit and think. Imagine doing that in front of a restaurant that has survived Covid among all the other catastrophes that can beset a town in the hurricane belt. There are visitors to Key West who dream of going back to Joe's Place and here it is, trundling on, durability made real in a town where change is constant. And yes I do photograph the brick building every time I visit Mallory Square. I like it.

Bicycle tours. I like to walk but as usual I am an outlier. Most people love to ride bicycles when they come to Key West. I prefer to amble. Better hope I keep ambling because that's how I get my pictures.

It was hot. I got out of work early so Rusty was at home. It was so hot he didn't leap out to greet me as he usually does when I get home at 6:30 in the cool of the evening.  Why he wasn't indoors enjoying air conditioning I couldn't say but he loves sitting outside, not barking, not running into the street, just watching. In this case in the shade of the van. Weird dog, perfectly adapted to Key West life.

Waterfront

I read a rather disturbing article in the paper about this place with the owners found guilty of stealing overtime pay from employees. Makes me glad I work for the city which has never missed a paycheck, pays overtime as required and doesn't play silly buggers with workers' lives. There are lots of things to complain about but it would be churlish to engage that line of thinking now I am so close to a securely funded old age. 

I've also been reading about drought in the west. We have friends who live in Arizona, a popular destination for our generation, and I imagine the gentle bake under 130 degree skies. Warmer days ahead indeed.  I checked Anchorage for fun and future interest and 70 degree days and 55 degree nights sound...bracing. I'm glad the van is well insulated.

I like to toss a nod to Hemingway's bust when I pass by Bahama Street trying to keep up with my dog. My next step will be to lurk here and catch the reactions of passers by. Then write a thesis on it all.

Across town there is a water spigot on the waterfront where I can fill Rusty's gallon water bottle I carry in the car. While I was doing that Rusty wandered around sniffing grass then eating it. A sudden commotion, the Hound of the Baskervilles! broke out from a  car parked across the lot. Some poor bugger walking his out of control hound hung on like grim death and inched the black bastard back to the car which promptly drove off into the night. Rusty, who had looked up briefly at the commotion got back to grazing while I finished filling his water bottle.

I like the modern bicycle racks installed around town. They are almost as artistic as the Hemingway bust on Bahama Street. I still don't like riding bicycles much but I appreciate they are much in demand by people much cooler than me, plodding along with a camera hung round my neck and my dog showing me the way.

I have also learned through extensive accidental research that the cool way to carry a camera is to have it attached to a sling. That being the case I naturally balk and prefer the traditional neck strap. It's nice to be old and not give  a damn.

Rusty telling me he wants to get back in the car and go home to sleep. No need to bark.

Tamiami Trail

You have to drive at least 800 miles from Key West to find a hill, or at least a piece of high ground 500 feet above sea level. Basically go due north, pass Atlanta and get into the Blue Ridge foothills, around Dahlonega. So if your idea of scenic involves winding roads and hills and valleys and Alpine rivers and so forth, Florida may not be the state for you. Tamiami Trail across the Everglades is considered scenic around here.

Fishing is as popular here as it is in the Keys and there is a canal running alongside the road. If you want to see actual Florida alligators you might spot one along here but you need to take Loop Road, a 24 mile dirt road easily driven in a sedan, or you can stop at Clyde Butcher's Gallery where there is a gator in the pool next to the parking lot.

Cell service is mostly available on Verizon though its not as strong as along the freeway to the north. There is a Miccosukee gas station at the eastern end and another gas station at the Naples end of the trail at a junction called Carnestown (no actual town visible!) so this is not desolation in case you were worried.

The Miccosukee Tribe live around here adding a little extra color to the proceedings.  They guard their privacy behind fences along the highway and the road is patrolled by white police cars with the classic red yellow and black stripes of the tribal colors. Speeding is not advised speaking as one who has avoided a ticket here since about 2001 when I got a 60 in a 45 zone at two in the morning when I wasn't paying attention. I've paid attention ever since here and on Alligator Alley.

There are assorted national park and preserves around. here with camping in what are essentially fields in the middle of the cypress forests. They are closed in summer when heat humidity and mosquitoes rule the Everglades.

Monroe Station marks the point where Monroe County extends furthest north onto the mainland. There are half a dozen families that live along Loop Road whose county seat weirdly enough is Key West and their relations with the Miccosukee were highlighted in 2013 when the tribe closed the east end of Loop Road as a "precaution" forcing the families to drive the long way in and out which they did with the sort of airing of grievance you might imagine was clearly reported in the papers.

The Monroe Station, a stop along the road much valued in the mid 20th century has finally been torn down and replaced with a parking lot. I think there was a song written abut such practices but Joni Mitchell isn't around to point it out. The big wooden building, crumbling for decades is gone.

There is a closed off parking lot of some sort but we found room to park the van and air out Rusty. Tamiami Trail was the only road across South Florida for a long time. Alligator Alley was completed as an interstate in the 1980s and I remember the join up of the two halves. The work to build this road was dreadful from Barron Collier's Naples end to Miami through swamps with dredges and wood cutting and fever and all the usual struggle to build in the wetlands of South Florida. But they persisted. 

Hard core off road vehicles crossing the highway to adventures further north. They waved as they went and looked ready for fun. I trust they were covered in deet.

Apparently you can buy a permit to park your tow vehicle here and with the permit comes a gate code. The last person to use the gate followed the instruction to please put the lock in upside down which I suppose makes it easier to read.

A popular spot on a June weekend.

I found the plea in the pit toilet a useful reminder that common sense isn't so common. Pity the person who has the task of removing the trash...

There is an exit only road back to the highway which has not gate but I don't see the pleasure of parking in this desolate spot anyway but we had a good look round as you can see.

Some neighbors waiting for catastrophe to strike along the highway. Someone's road traffic accident is someone else's lunch.

On the road again. Winter travel here opens up dry season trails, restaurants in the small communities around Goodland and Chokoloskee and camping when the heat won't strangle you. Drive it at least once if you are in South Florida and buy a small Clyde Butcher print to remind you of the wonders of the place. You can buy them large enough for the foyer wall in your mansion or small enough to fit in the camper van. Ask and I'll show you mine.

Almuerzo Azteca Style

We were taking ourselves to Tampa in the van for a doctor's appointment for my wife who needed. follow up for her shoulder surgery. I took it upon myself to map the route as I wanted to cruise old roads that we haven't used in a while as we generally follow the dreary freeway paths across Florida.

Krome Avenue from Homestead north has been turned into a four lane highway, the way the 18 mile stretch should have been had politics not intervened which makes for an easy drive direct to Alligator Alley avoiding Miami entirely. On this trip I turned left at the Miccosukee gambling resort and took Tamiami Trail south of I-75. Built as the only route across south Florida in the early 20th century its exotic name comes from the amalgamation of its destinations: Tampa and Miami. It's properly known as Highway 41, nowadays a scenic two lane backroad.

As we droned through the Everglades I suggested Layne look for a lunch stop. We were too close to Immokalee but Arcadia might do and even LaBelle could be a worthy early lunch stop, though I wondered what we might find of interest in tiny LaBelle. My wife is full of surprises. We found a Mexican truck stop.

We blundered in out of the heat and found a vast warehouse of stuff, a buffet lunch counter to the right and an all purpose supermarket to the left. My wife the retired adult ed teacher started asking questions in quick fire Spanish, like any good Mexican housewife on the hunt for lunch (almuerzo). We stood aside for the customer behind us who made a beeline for what he wanted. I had seen the characteristic rubbery skin with check marks all over it. We're too gringo for tripe I told the customer and he laughed. She responded by piling on the menudo for him, a stew of stomach tomatoes and peppers. Yum; I think not.

I like to travel but I am not an adventurous eater. I took a friend to Italy in 2017 (before the virus!) and he had us hunt down a restaurant in Rome famous for its tripe. I admire Michael for his dedication to food but I have lived this long without tasting cow stomach and now the finish line is in sight I intend to stick to my record. Layne wanted the carnitas on the left and I liked the looked of chorizo and potatoes to the right. Severely normal.

The trick was to get a blue square of paper as a receipt. So we took off through the maze of shelves toward a mythical cash desk lurking out of sight.

Dump your trash, please! I hate how the obvious needs to be stated in every culture and every language. Trash in the trash can seems obvious and in a buffet bussing your own plates seems equally obvious.

This was a working man's store and I say that advisedly as they did not seem to carry women's sizes unless they breed Amazons in LaBelle. The shoe sizes seemed enormous.

Layne was having a little flutter in the spice aisle muttering about how she was transported back to Mexico and its been too long. One of these and one of those please. When a Mexican condiment is labeled in English there is room to wonder how autentico it might be but I guess the locals are in the know. We shall see how it tastes.

In Latin America Diet Coke is called "Coca Light" but when you are burning ten thousand calories a day in the fields and you have a sweet tooth you are the kind of customer who pops for the real thing every time. We did manage to scrounge two cans of Diet stuck almost out of sight. I love the neon colored Mexican sodas to look at, but they are so sweet they make your teeth curl, says a man with a sweet tooth already.

Water jugs by the dozen. You'd think employers would provide water but apparently not.

No idea what this stuff is but I am very fond of custard apples so how bad can this concoction be? It's really nice traveling with a fridge. And a trash can should the need arise. 

I am not fond of iPhone photography and here's a case in point. For some reason it went black and white on me at this moment, a detail I missed in the bright sunlight. Rusty was snoring under the cabin air conditioner and when I let him out he turned around and hopped right back in. 95 degrees? No thanks. Lucky he's not baking in the south west these days. I heard of 116 in Las Vegas.

The former stray dog would much rather be inside on his bed looking out than trying to find relief in the shade of a bush at the mercy of passing predators.

My lunch. The refried beans were surprisingly spicy.

Layne's lunch. Two meals from each box made this pretty economical. I can't remember how much everything cost but field hands can afford it, therefore so can we. I hope. May the power of our credit card never grow less.

The tortillas were enough to make you point the van toward the Rio Bravo del Norte. Thick and grilled just enough to taste the sear.  

And for pudding we had paletas de Michocan which you can see for sale everywhere in Mexico under pink and white striped awnings. We got the rice milk flavored ones (horchata) which taste of rice pudding with cinnamon.  I was ready for a nap but we had miles to cover and three hours more driving far from I-75.

El lonche para llevar. A touch of Spanglish to help you navigate your next stop in LaBelle, Florida.