2004 – A Year in Review
Greetings friends. Well, 2004 was a whopper of a year. We tease that we await the frogs and locusts next, what with everything that has happened here of late, but in truth, we count ourselves very fortunate by comparison…our hearts go out to those suffering this greatest of tragedies…
We began the year quietly enough, but by August that all changed. With 4 hurricanes, August, September and October and the ensuing clean up we were kept busy on the home front and helping friends and neighbors with the massive job of getting things back to normal. We are very thankful to have suffered no damage to the house, only losing our large laurel oak out front (along with every other one in Central Florida, it seems).
Needless to say, our usual summer activities of paddling and biking were shortchanged. Worse, many of our favorite rivers to paddle are still impassable due to the extensive tree falls…but we are making up for it now and getting outdoors as much as we can…but, back to last year…
February marked our maiden kayak wilderness
camping trip. After long preparations and precise plan
ning
(and gear accumulation) and, for my part, organizing and organizing and more
organizing, we put together what was needed for overnight primitive camping from
the kayaks. We took our trusty Carolinas, small storage hatches and all, and
dozens of dinky dry bags later (slight exaggeration) we had everything we needed
neatly crammed inside. As you can see from the photo of Dennis, the boats were
riding low with the extra 50-60 pounds of gear in each. Yes, we ended up taking
way more than needed but greatly enjoyed the learning process. And what a place
to learn! The destination: Fisheating Creek.
We traveled south to Okeechobee and after a
night’s stay in a hotel, drove the last hour Saturday morning to the outfitter,
met up with our intrepid friends and packed the gear in the boats. Thanks to a
dry run on the lake the weekend before, everything fit beautifully. Before we
knew it we were bumping along in an ancient
van, our boats in tow, enjoying the
yarns spun in rapid succession by our equally ancient driver on the 40-minute
shuttle to the put-in. Possessing the same quirks and groans as the old van,
our driver was as true picture of Florida heritage – imagine old Florida from
the sepia photographs of the 1940’s crackers and you’ll be there…It was a
delightful ride that set the perfect tone for the trip to come. I especially
enjoyed the albino dwarf story and we were eager to see if we could spot one…
We arrived at the launch and stared astonished
at way lay ahead: clear water, sandy white bottom, cypress everywhere – we had
literally just stepped into one of those aforementioned photographs. Our first
chore was to finish outfitting the boats then we took some time to explore – a
requisite stop at the little red “outhouse” pictured below (not the same name
our driver used, but...) – one of only 2 structures along the
entire 16-mile run. Then we were underway. Inches deep water challenged our
gear-burdened kayaks but soon it was smooth sailing with the sandbars behind
us. I think I spent the first hour slack-mouthed with awe as the river unfolded
before us; going from shallow, white sand bottoms to narrow, winding
cypress-laden twists to wide open broad lakes and back again.
We truly felt like explorers mapping the river for the first time. I must admit something here. When I first heard the name Fisheating Creek from our friend Jim, my first reaction was: well, that’s certainly a place I never want to go. Twice we’d talked about going; camping, paddling. But there were no camping facilities; there was some problem with the state, etc. and then there was that name. Inexplicably, I had in my mind this image: a smallish, remote circular lake barren of trees feeding into some pitiful creek with a rough spot or two on the shore where some hunter-slash-fisherman had slept and spat and fished. (I don’t know where I got this notion…) but long story short, I could not have been more wrong. This was truly an undiscovered treasure and a real step back in time in Florida history.
We saw not another soul for the first 4 hours.
We turned a corner and paddled into yet another of the wide lakes and saw a lone
fisherman in a small powerboat who waved and said, simply: “watch for the turn
sign ahead.” Good advice as the river narrowed again and seemingly ended at a
stand of cypress. But careful
observation
revealed the way: current gently flowing right through the stand. We paddle our
14+ foot boats twisting around ancient cypress as we wend our way through. It
is a rare treat to see such a pristine place within our over-developed,
over-populated, overdone state.
Soon, we approach our first – and only – real sign of civilization. We hear first – then see – a group of Boy Scouts in canoes, clearly a first experience for most as they laugh and struggle with the uncooperative, bulky aluminum boats. Finesse, we want to advise but don’t. They will learn if they do it for long. Canoes cannot be powered or manhandled over and through wind and moving water…they will tire then perhaps they will learn…
We move on, leaving the laughter behind and
once again find the peace of this special river. Dennis and I
are the laggers –
he is fishing, I am taking photo after photo. The name is no mistake, he finds,
and literally every cast nets a prize. I try my hand and first cast brings a
3-pound bass. They weren’t kidding but we don’t eat ours; it’s catch and
release for us and then we move on.
The campsite comes up far too soon, but it is nearing 4 p.m. and there are chores to attend. Shelter, first, of course. Our careful packing has paid off and the gear we need is right where we need it. Two trips and everything we need to make camp is there. This is a great way to camp, I realize. The tent goes up, rain fly on, sleeping bags in, gear stowed. Ten minutes tops. Soon I will be even more enamored of this new minimalist approach.
Our quick set up allows Dennis some more
fishing time. The others have not packed quite as lightly and camp set up
continues. Canoes do allow you to carry more gear but for me that translates to
carrying more, setting up more, and eventually, breaking down more. I now
believe that I want to apply our new approach to all our camping – even base
camping (this is strongly reinforced when we return home and clean up consists
of putting everything in one large plastic storage bin and sticking it on the
shelf). These backpackers have clearly had something on us this whole time!
Next, it is firewood collection then dinner. Dead wood is not as easily found but we scrape together enough; this is a well-used campsite. Soon, we have a roaring fire and its time to test our new stove (no, we actually fired it up at home but never cooked on it – we aren’t complete rookies – close though…). The stove heats our pasta and chicken dinner perfectly and quickly and we are eating within minutes – good, too, because a long day on the river has worked up an appetite… Clean up is simple and just as brief and then we stretch out in front of the fire…
The next day dawns and pack up is just as simple…I am definitely sold on this new method of camping…we shove the boats in the water after a quick breakfast and I eye the water a bit more carefully…before turning in the night before we couldn’t resist a walk to the waters edge, our flashlight beam revealing what we knew to be there…no disappointment as dozens of sets of red eyes glowed back at us. We hadn’t seen many gators during the paddle but, as expected, the nocturnal critters were out and about once dark came.
The paddle back was filled with the jubilation of the camp, relaxation and the camaraderie of a good day of paddling and it went by quickly. This section is much more well-used, which is to say, we saw perhaps 10 people during the trip back, most of whom we saw within a mile of the campground take-out. I guess the sign of truly successful trip is the desire to return. If so, this one was a whopping success…we were already planning our return on the drive home… See more Fisheating Creek Photos
March saw us bitten by the bug and we were soon envisioning kayak expedition trips: multi-days paddling coastal waters, camping along the way…we were hooked. The experience in January on our annual Hillsborough River camp and paddle and the park campground with its rowdy, raucous partying campers had galvanized it. Wilderness camping from our kayaks would become our new passion.
By mid-April, we were still enthralled enough
to journey to Charleston, SC to attend the East Coast Canoe
and Kayak Fest. But first, we had a bit of a crisis at home with one of our
family members: our kitty, Sammy. She’d developed hyperthyroidism and was down
to 6 pounds. Medication made her ill and we made the decision to do the
radioactive iodine chemo treatment. Trouble was, the best facility was in South
Florida – Hollywood to be exact. And worse, we had to leave her there. It was
an agonizing trip and even worse when I had to leave my baby in the hands of
strangers. But we knew it had to be done – or she would likely die...After many assurances from the kind staff, we left
her. The procedure itself took only minutes, but she had to be kept for a few
days until her, uhm, discards were no longer setting off the Geiger’s…We made
the long drive home and Lisa, the kindly staffer, called me regularly as
promised to give us updates on how little Sam was doing. We got a surprise call
on Wednesday, two days later, that we could pick her up first thing Thursday.
We drove down and had her back home no worse for the wear. To date, she’s up to
10 pounds again and doing well.
Confident she was well, with boats on top, we headed up to coastal South Carolina to James Island County Park and were immediately taken with the facility. And immediately regretted two things: leaving our bikes at home and our decision not to camp. This was truly an impressive facility and ideal for this event. 643 acres, it has several large pavilions, meeting halls (names: Wappoo, Stono, etc.) extensive paved biking/walking trails and very nice campsites (most shaded and with nice natural barriers). On the downside, it also has a waterslide park, which was thankfully closed until summer.
The Fest itself was set up around a small pond encircled by a paved road on either side of which the vendors pitched stations (photo above). Everyone was represented and it was a perfect setting for trying lots of boats and gear (which we eagerly did). Think toy store for paddlers and you’re there…
We also signed up for a couple of the skills
classes they offered as well as one of the paddle trips hosted by
the
local paddling group, the Lowcountry Paddlers. The waters along that coast earn
their reputation: it was rough, rocky and shallow. Current was wicked and winds
were unrelenting. Of course, our objective was to attack the worst-case
scenarios and learn to keep our boats upright through it. It was trying and a
new experience for us. We’ve paddled rough water and through high winds, tides,
etc. but nothing like this churning turbulence. We had a new appreciation for
this breed of sea kayaker.
We returned home with new goals and some tools to help achieve them. First up: learning the roll. Second, heeding our unspoken advice to the Scouts…honing our paddling skills – both finesse and technique. Armed with tapes and lessons, we practiced in the pool and on the lake. Our paddling skills have improved. We haven’t yet mastered the roll, haven't had the chance to practice it, but we’re determined to get there.
March and April saw some good paddles to familiar favorites: Lake Norris and Mosquito Lagoon as well as some new places like Tomoka River and Spruce Creek. The end of April we made a last minute decision to combine a business trip to the Panhandle with some camping/kayaking.
We headed out from Tallahassee to
thunderstorms and heavy rain...not a good omen but even if our paddling was to
be limited due to the inclimate
weather but would at least get to do a good bit of scouting for future trips as well as
revisiting some Florida hot-spots like Panacea and Sopchoppy from our infamous
Thanksgiving trip… driving down from Tallahassee on 61 then 319, we headed
through Crawfordsville where we had pizza one night then on past “The Landing”
where Jim and Diane stayed and “The Oaks” where we had Thanksgiving buffet and
finally Holiday Park on the bay where we camped. We had to smile as remembered
our paddle on the Sopchoppy in drizzling rain that kept on the whole time until
you couldn’t possibly be any wetter and how much fun it had been…
The drive as far as St. George was familiar – we’d gone that far before. We went beyond and came to Eastpoint and then the long bridge that leads to Apalachicola (right). The area is beautiful and surprisingly undeveloped. Thick stands of pine still line the narrow roadway – you get the sense that time has all but stopped here on this quiet coast. Unfortunately, development will likely come – it always seems to, but for now, it is still a step back into Florida’s past.
Pushing the camp season, we stayed at St. Joseph Peninsula State Park on the tip of the peninsula, a beautiful place with a large bay on one side and the Gulf on the other.
St. Joe’s State park is a surprise as well.
Highway
30 dead ends at the park’s start and my first reaction is how much it reminds me
of Lyonia Preserve, minus the water, of course. But the sandy mounds topped
with dwarf pines and oaks looks strikingly like our “scrub” land and I half
expected to see a scrub jay at any moment.
Tempting Mother Nature proves too much and as such she was most uncooperative: it was rainy, stormy and then there was the real, late-season camp double threat: heat and bugs.
We pulled into the camp area – Shady Pines – and were shocked at how small the sites are. Very good privacy and nice shade but much more suited to RV’s than tents. Our chosen site is low and I have immediate visions of floating out of the tent on our air mattress during the night…
The camp areas are really two in one: the Gulf Breeze sites are more open to accommodate large vehicles and there is little shade, but like the name, great breezes. Shady Pines is just that but also protected without a whisper of a breeze.
We called the friendly ladies manning the ranger station and they helpfully suggest we find an alternate site and hold the phone while we check it out. It is vastly better – high and, hopefully, dry, if the 70% chance of rains come as promised. We proceed to setup camp – first the tent (easy) then the dining tarp ($%#@* - major frustration, but it will also not make the return trip home with us. Read: dumpster city). It takes us more than an hour to get the dumb thing set up – dealing with some serious sand issues in our new site (it’s dirty and deep – not that sugar white stuff of the paths and beach, go figure). It’s after 2 and we’re hot, sweaty and hungry, not to mention supremely frustrated but it’s done so we make a bite of lunch before finishing and getting on to the real fun…
Just like the SC kayak fest park, St. Joe would be a great place to bring a bike and wouldn’t you know, we didn’t. Again. Biking through campground roads, park roads and down Hwy. 30 to the Trading Post store on the bike path would have made for a nice little ride. There are also a couple of hiking trails including one 8 miler we wish we had time to take.
We scoped out the cabins on our way to check out the kayak launch site…they look nice – bay side, fireplaces…we try not to think about our mud bog and irascible dining tarp…we find the parking area for the primitive campsites. Bay View Picnic Area, nice. You leave your car, pack your boat, launch and paddle out to the islands to camp – looks inviting.
At dusk, with a brief break in the drizzle, we sit on the beach swatting noseeums, their relentless attacks not being kept at bay by the too-light breezes. A campfire and yet more bug spray is yet to come tonight, but we are still enjoying it (I do catch that look in Dennis’ eyes: you’re the one that wanted to camp in May- in Florida…but, lucky for him, he keeps it to himself). We get back to camp and the noseeums are merciless, hovering under the aforementioned campsite tarp with us through the rains, feasting on our captive bodies. The only escape is standing in the rain, so there we were, dripping wet, while the little blood suckers stayed comfy and dry, just daring us to step back under. We finally retreat to the tent, oiled in Deet and it's all we can do to keep from sliding off the air mattress...hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day...
...but it's still raining when we wake up and worse, now they are calling for heavy thunderstorms...that nixes the paddling for good. So, after 1 night we pack up and head out. We spot deer as we leave – a bit skittish, but clearly used to people. The cardinals in the campsite lit alongside you asking for handouts. I gave one a grape and she was delighted. This park sees a lot of traffic, though mostly of the land-yacht variety we suspect. Still, the paddle camping is a definite go for the future...just earlier than May...
On the way out to St. Marks, we stop in
Apalachicola for breakfast, The Red Top Café – delightful. The long
drive to St. Marks takes us until noon. We drive to the lighthouse point and
scope the launch sites. We rule out the paddle upriver – it’s wide open and the
winds are too fierce – decide to put in at the wayside and paddle up the Wakulla
to the fence at the State Park and return. It was very gusty and against
current but it was a beautiful paddle. Different from our Central Florida
springs paddles – we’re spoiled I guess – hate to see all those homes
alongside…still nice, though. Plenty of powerboats but the minimum wake make it
palatable.
“Just foller the road round…” thus were the instructions from the gatehouse on our next stop, which was an absolute delight…and unplanned. We decide last minute to stay at the Wakulla Lodge. What a treat. Circa 1940’s, the structure is charming and classic. We enter the lobby and step back in time to that grand era…you half-expect to see Henry Flagler seated on one of the huge sofas reading the paper and smoking a pipe…the grand piano sits at one end alongside a marble gaming table, but it is the mural work that captures the eye…Furnished in the old-Florida style, a huge fireplace centers the room and with a nod toward technology, a large screen television is situated on the far end (no in room TV’s!). The ceilings are exposed beam and ornately stenciled and painted.
The
desk and desk clerk both have an old-fashioned feel – you definitely feel as
though you’ve stepped back in to the splendor and pomp that was the ‘30’s &
‘40’s. (Even the restrooms had the same feel – Dennis even described a toilet
with a foot pedal…)
We get our key and head to the ancient Otis with it’s sliding gate and portholed wood door and head up to the second floor (we stood and awaited the door to open not realizing for a moment that one must actually open it. Fun). We head to our room - #28. It’s a nicely appointed room with period correct reproduction and antique furnishings. The floors are pink and cream marble in a checkerboard pattern and even the fixtures are period correct. The hotel was clearly pre-electricity as all have been retrofitted, the wire casings running atop walls to big, square box outlets.
In the bathroom I half expected a claw foot
tub but it’s not to be. I do find the same marble on the tub
surround along with 4 water controls (2 for tub 2 for shower). The room has an
enormous walk-in closet and I was also surprised by how tall the doors were (I
could barely reach the hook on the bathroom door to hang my clothes). Our first
order of business upon arriving in the room was to throw open the windows –
cranking each of the four panes fully open to let in some fresh air. The room
had excellent light and was very cheerful and homey.
Of course, we couldn't leave without seeing the
springs. Huge oaks shaded a grassy lawn, perfect for summer lounging and
the swimming area was wide and open with a floating dock a few yards out.
There was a boat ride concession that was closed but we guessed they took
visitors up to the fence we'd paddled to and back - nothing we hadn't already
seen. We couldn't resist a dip and plunged into the icy water. It
was refreshing after our paddle and we lingered a while. Afterward, we
paused on a park bench to drip dry and watched a hapless turtle lumber back and
forth against a chain link fence separating the play area from the swimming
area. We cringed as people surrounded and terrified the poor thing.
Once they'd gone I urged Dennis to intervene and he picked up the little guy and
pointed him in the right direction - through the fence gate and in the direction
of the water. Well, he knew where he was and made a beeline for the water.
He trotted the last few feet and in a final push over the seawall, plunged back
into his habitat. We
had no one of knowing how long he'd been land bound,
stuck behind that fence but now he was free again.
Pleased with our good deed we headed inside to change and then to dinner in the Ball Room, named for the Park’s benefactor and namesake, Edwin Ball. Here, too, you feel the unhurried elegance of the bygone time when meals were events of themselves and people lingered over conversation and food. We thoroughly enjoyed our brief stay…we will return here again…
We finished our trip with scouting stops at the Aucilla, Ecofina and Steinhatchee. One day soon we will be planning our Big Bend kayak camp trip and seeing these places from an entirely new vantage point…we can’t wait…
The end of May brought our annual sojourn to our beloved Smokies, with an interim stop at our newest national park, Congaree Swamp National Monument near Columbia, SC. The main goal here was to scope the Congaree River for another future kayak camp trip. Prospect: excellent. Facts: boasting the tallest canopy on the Eastern seaboard…
We take our normal route through Asheville and
are delighted when the first vistas come in to view…The Smokies are brilliant in
May and it is my favorite time to visit. Flame Azalea, Dogwood, Mountain Laurel
and Rhododendron all bloom profusely while wildflowers carpet the roadsides and
trails. The highlights this year are trips up to Balsam Mountain and to
Cataloochee to see if we can spot the Elk that have recently been reintroduced
to the park as well as our hike to Ramsey Cascades. We camp at Elkmont, the
site on our private little stream and settle in.
The 8-mile hike begins differently from what
we remember: it is paved and wide. Okay. We know there
have been a lot of changes, but this is kind of ridiculous…soon, however, the
trail changes and here is what we remember: steep, steep, and steep. Rocks,
rocks and more rocks. Rock stairs, boulders lining the trail, rocks on the
trail. That’s pretty much it: rocks and steep. That’s what we remembered…it
is a long climb but soon we hear the reward in
the offing: the roar of one of
the most spectacular waterfalls in the park…a few hundred yards and a scramble
over and around boulders and there it is: 100 feet of cascades. It is
instantly cooler and the spray refreshing and invigorating. I find a spot on a
boulder and the warmth radiating against my legs is a stark contrast of the 15+
degree cooler temperatures thanks to the misting falls. We eat, we take
pictures and video and marvel. It is a quiet day and we share it with only 2
other people (another reason I love May!). It is a special treat. We leave
grudgingly, but there is a long climb down and long ride back to camp…
Next day, we take the narrow mountain road to Cataloochee. Formerly on the never-visited side of the park’s outreaches, the Elk have changed all that, we soon find. The campsites are the first clue: there are actually tents and people there. Every other year we have come it has been completely empty! Now, almost every site is occupied. Still, it is small and quiet – we will camp here next time.
It is about 4 and we want to get a good spot
to park and see if we can spot these beautiful creatures. Alas, we will not
experience the trumpeting this trip – not mating season – but we will hopefully
get to see them…I scan the tree line as Dennis parks. There is a ranger with
audio equipment so we know our timings good…before I can even form the thought
of how long it might be, there they are. Out of the woods and grazing,
socializing and yes, frolicking, are 8 elk – all females. All with tags in each
ear and clunky transmitters on collars around their necks it is not the ideal
wild experience but we are still glad to see them here, thriving. We watch for
a long time, awaiting a male but none come. We depart and laugh aloud at the
next site. In front of the rangers house are 3 big males with their
fuzz-covered racks, their heavy winter fur shedding as they lazily graze. We
spend more time watching and photographing them – cute little cow-faced #14, my
favorite (above).
The
first of June saw our annual Santa Fe paddle trip with our requisite stop at
Lily Springs to visit Nature
Ed. June was also our first turtle watch at
Canaveral National Seashore – a very educational and exciting event. As the
ranger educates us about these gentle giants, Loggerheads, Leatherbacks and
Greenbacks, a group is out on the beach awaiting the arrival of one of the
females to lay her eggs. When one is spotted, they radio the ranger who then
leads us to the location so we can observe her nest building, laying the eggs or
covering them – depending on at which point you arrive. We arrived for the
latter and watched as this massive creature (a Loggerhead) struggled and
persevered to cover her nest then labored back to the sea. It was a marvelous
experience and gave us a deeper appreciation of the perils facing these
incredible animals.
In July, we also made the decision of getting more involved with our outdoor club, the Wilderness Trekkers. Dennis jumped in full force and agreed to take on the presidency. I continue as Webmaster and thoroughly enjoy the challenge. I don’t miss the printed newsletter at all, I admit. All that free time now allows me to help answer emails and inquiries taking a bit of the load off Dennis’ shoulders. We do enjoy it and our time with the club has brought us so many new friends and experiences. Ironically, this year saw our least involvement in the Club from a trip standpoint – too many hurricanes getting in the way, but more on that later…
In anticipation of
our July board meeting at our house, I had the brilliant idea of re-doing our
outdoor patio. In
the summer. In Florida. Now this may not be unusual for some of our tough as
nails Floridian friends, but this is huge for us. We don’t do labor in the
summer. Period. We save that for the cold weather. And this was a big one.
It meant taking up over a hundred 16” patio stones, leveling the ridiculously
sloping ground around an uncooperative Camphor tree and then, finally, laying
over 1500 stone bricks, after, of course, building a retaining wall to hold up
all that dirt we first had to add to level that ridiculously sloping ground…did
I mention that Dennis is a saint…?
…we
toiled and leveled and toiled and I placed each one of those 1500 bricks – he
jokes that I was the skilled tradesman, he just the laborer as he carted load
after load around the house to me without too much complaining – okay, there was
a lot of complaining but I am trying to remember just the good parts…(I did move
many, many wheelbarrow-loads full, too, but we’ll just say that he did it all
for that marital bliss thing.…). At long last we were finished. The bad news
was we didn’t even get close to finishing in time for our meeting. Fortunately,
no one even noticed that the old one was gone, let alone that a big dirt pile
stood where it had been. It looks beautiful and now we can say it was worth
every bit of effort…but I can assure you I will not even utter the words “I
have a great idea for a project…” anytime between the months of June and
September…P.S. Dennis is a saint…
Our July Juniper Springs paddle would be our
last for a while. Hurricane Charley would strike on Friday the
13th of August with 100 mph winds as the eye passes over our small
patch of Deltona. It is 6 days before power and cable are returned and another
8 before we have phones again. The disconnection form the world is an odd
feeling – no phones, no email, no cell phones…it seemed as though everyone had
forgotten about us here…no ice, no water. Our power will be back on before the
first disaster aid arrives… We are blessed with wonderful neighbors who, with
generators running, offer us critical freezer space and ice and we are able to
save some things… We are thankful that our home suffers no damage – only losing
that tree. Clean up is extensive and before we are finished there is a pile of
debris 6 feet high and 30 feet long (in photo we are halfway done…) and we are
the fortunate ones…
10 days after that, Hurricane Frances strikes, the Labor Day Weekend storm. This time we lose power for only 5 days and manage to keep our phones this time. No cable or Internet again but this time, disaster aid is immediate. Cleanup is lighter and again, no damage.
Sunday, September 26 Hurricane Jeanne strikes after a touch and go with Ivan, who eventually will devastate the Panhandle. So, for the 3rd time, we remove everything from our yard and patio in preparation (the windows we left boarded up after Frances). And like Frances, this storm just would not quit. It was with us all day and when it turned north we got it from the other side and suffered through endless winds and horizontal rain as with Frances. This time the power only blipped a few times but stayed on. We cooked and watched a movie but would still walk into the pitch-dark bathroom with a flashlight – our Pavlovian response to storm equally black out, I guess. It just didn’t seem right we could go through a hurricane and still have power. No real clean up either, just raking. We are so thankful to have come through again with no damage.
One side affect of the hurricanes was unusually high humidity – 80 to 90 percent! Blessedly, it did not arrive until after the last storm and our days without power and thus air conditioning were actually pleasant. The pool definitely helped, especially after the yard clean up.
October we treated ourselves to early Christmas presents: new Trek bikes. Logging 30-50 miles a week on the streets on mountain bikes lead to the easy decision. They are hybrids – a bit wider tires than street bikes but more importantly, no bent forward pose – we are enjoying them tremendously.
October also brought our first gator sighting
in 9 years here on the lake. And we saw 2 in the same day: A
3 footer and a 6-7 footer. We haven’t seen them since but who knows. We knew
the culverts they placed to connect all the lakes together would be an open-door
invitation. And since the whole thing eventually connects to the St. John’s now
we knew it would only be a matter of time before they began making their way
here…At right is one of our famous Lake Theresa sunsets...
Mid October we decided to head up to North Georgia for a visit with dear friends and enjoy a change of weather. We took our new bikes (of course) and enjoyed pedaling the serene roads of the Chickamauga battlefields. It was a restful break after a tumultuous summer.
Upon return, we got the house to ourselves when Dennis’ mom headed out first on a Caribbean cruise and then to Phoenix for a Thanksgiving visit to his brother, Ron’s. We spent the holiday with friends Ed & Nan and family and enjoyed a wonderful feast and great company.
We got the boats back out the day after, taking in the Ocklawaha with friends; our first paddle after the storms and our first trip back to this lovely river in nearly 3 years. It is stunning in winter and we had the whole river to ourselves.
December was a flurry or bikes, paddles and
holiday preparations. We spent Christmas week back in North
Georgia (Dennis with our friend, Heidi right) and enjoyed real weather of the season: highs in the 30’s and
lows in the teens! We braved the holiday scramble and craziness – joining right
in as we tackled the stores for last minute shopping and then savored the quiet
joy of the day: enjoyed each other, reminisced, mourned the loss of their
beloved pet, welcomed and rejoiced a new puppy and made new memories. We
delighted in the drive home – the wonderful treat to see acres of trees and
foliage glistening with ice. We also enjoyed the longest vacation stretch we’ve
ever taken in our lives together – nearly a full 16 days off in a row! It was
wonderful and a restful and joyous way to close out a not so relaxing year, for
which, despite the trials we feel blessed.
It has been fun summarizing the year and taking a look back. Despite first impressions, it is never all bad or stressful. The hurricanes certainly took a bite out of our lives but when put in perspective we realize how fortunate we are. We learned more about ourselves, learned more about the place where we live and are better for it. We enjoyed more than we hurt and there was far more fun than trials…
We are looking forward to the coming year filled with exciting paddles, great camping trips including our much- anticipated return to Fisheating Creek, miles of biking, hiking and great times with great friends…we’ll see you out there…
Kim and Dennis
Copyright© 2000 Dennis Gonzalez
This page was last updated on
09/09/08.
All photos taken by Kim Gonzalez unless otherwise
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reproduced or used without written consent of photographer.