Photo: Some of the birds at Sanibel Island.
Before we left Bonita Springs, we decided to take in the annual Tastes of Bonita Springs, which was being held just down the road from our park. It started at 11:00am so we figured we could sample a few food items and still be on the road by noon. Food tickets were one dollar each and most menu items cost two to four dollars. We bought twenty bucks worth of tickets and had small portions of: baby back ribs, crab cakes, coconut shrimp, a beef slider, chicken wings, a slice of charcoal roasted pizza and, finally, frozen chocolate key lime pie on a stick.
Photo: The sight of Tastes of Bonita Springs.
Today we’re heading north, with no particular destination. We know that tomorrow night we’ll book into Fort Desoto County Park where we hope to encounter some manatees.
We ended up at Pleasant Lake RV Park near Bradenton. As advertised, there’s a lake in the middle of the park and a large, heated swimming pool too. We took a long walk and a swim before Janice made pulled pork tostadas and something akin to a Waldorf salad, only better, while I watched the Pats beat the Colts, barely.
We’re now officially past half-way into our trip because I have to be back for business by May 15. I’m relieved to say that we just squeaked in on budget, and that we still like each other enough to go for another five-and-a-half months.
We rolled into Fort Desoto County Park about 1:00 the next day and headed straight for the beach, which won The Best Beach in America Award in 2005. It’s certainly a beautiful beach but not nearly as spectacular as others we’ve seen. We spent the afternoon walking and dunking in the ocean before heading back to camp for country style ribs, (we’re not really sure what they are either) but Janice put them in the crock pot and finished them on the BBQ. They were fall-apart delicious and were accompanied by mixed greens with blue cheese, cranberry, walnut and red onion salad, topped with maple/balsamic dressing.
Photo: North Beach at Fort Desoto County Park.
In the morning we took a long walk around Fort Desoto Park, which is actually an 1138 acre island.
Later we drove to St. Pete’s Beach, and explored the town a little, finding where Tweetie and Art’s condo occupies an enviable spot on the white sand beach. We also visited Madeira Beach, Dunedin and Palm Harbor, all the while scouting potential RV parks where we might consider a prolonged stay. There was only one that we liked, but it was a little expensive for our tastes, so we’re going to give Zephyrhills, north of Tampa Bay, a try. We’ll try to find the park that is famed for having a lot of Canadian musicians who hang out there for the winter.
As soon as we got back to camp we headed for the beach and made a couple of calls. One to Charlie, who isn’t going to be able to make it down here, and the other to Tweetie to let her know we were going to have to pass on the offer of the condo, however much it would have been appreciated. If Tweetie and Art had been scheduled to be there it would be a different story.
Photo: Tweetie and Art’s condo at St. Pete’s Beach.
Photo: St. Pete’s Beach
Our camp neighbours at Fort Desoto are a large family with teenagers. The parents were out the other night and, as we were sitting outside after dinner listening to some quiet music, the hip hop music of the teenagers’ suddenly got cranked so loud we couldn’t hear our music at all. And we were sitting right next to it.
Janice, like Frank Zappa’s mother in Joe’s Garage, yelled, “Turn it Down!” When nothing happened she marched over and turned the ghetto blaster down herself. A sullen looking male of fourteen or fifteen years of age said, “Hey, don’t touch my music.” Janice, hands on hips, stared him down. And that was the last we heard of it.
Not long after I met Janice she took up kick boxing. Every time she’d drink tequila, she’d go up to the biggest guy in the room and give him a shot in the solar plexus. Gasping, they would look unbelievingly at the five-foot-one, hundred-and-ten pound female in front of them. As their composure returned to them, most often, they’d start laughing. Sometimes these encounters would end up in friendships, while other times it got us into trouble. Fortunately the trouble was never too serious, but I eventually gave her an ultimatum: Either give up kick boxing or give up tequila. She gave up kick boxing.
The morning after the teenager’s music incident, it was sunny and hot as I made a few calls to parks we’d found in Zephyrhills via the internet. A woman at Southern Charm RV Park said that she believed that hers was the musical park. We pointed the truck north and drove through Tampa Bay, which is not very memorable on a drive-by, and kept going another twenty miles to Zephyrhills.
As soon as we pulled in to Southern Charm, and booked our spot on Lucky Charm Way, a woman named Suzie walked over and introduced herself. She immediately predicted that we were in for a prolonged stay at the park. “Mark my words,” she said.
Later, as we walked around the park, we found a lot of outgoing people that confirmed that, yes indeed; this was the park where there were a lot of resident musicians. There were also four volleyball courts, a big bike riding group, a canoe and kayak group, a bowling club and of course a shuffleboard league. In the clubhouse, next to the pool and hot tub area, there is a library and a billiards room with three new tables.
In the morning I played volleyball for the first time in about seven or eight years. There were twenty-five players of all skill levels. We drew numbers to form teams and I ended up on a kick-ass team that none of the others could touch. That only lasted three games though as numbers were re-drawn and I ended up on a team that lost three in a row. Good fun and exercise but, man, was I stiff the next morning when I showed up for men‘s volleyball.
Janice, who’s never been much for volleyball, either walks or swims laps at the pool.
Some of the volleyball players were musicians and I was invited to jam that afternoon. The host of the jam is a banjo/guitar player who, it turns out, was mentoring some less experienced guitar players, so it was a little dull for me.
When we asked at the office what price they could offer for us to stay for the month of December, we had to conceal our grins when she stated, “We have a December special of $199.00.” The parks on the coast, just twenty miles away, charge at least quadruple that amount.
Our cable TV and high speed Internet connection will be another $115.00, but that still only brings our total to $315.00 for the month. The cable/internet connection is already ordered for November 30. The busy season for the RV Parks here is January/February, thus the December special.
Suzie ended up being right – we’re staying.
On the Saturday morning we joined a group to go on a twenty-five mile bike ride. We rode the first half to a great little restaurant in Florida City and had breakfast before heading back as a group. There are all levels of riding ability, and stamina, but we were pleased to be able to keep up to the lead pack. Janice and I decided that we actually rode an equivalent thirty or thirty-five miles because of the smaller wheels on our fold-up bikes.
Photo: Janice’s shot of a spot along the bike trail.
On Sundays there is an open jam session at Zephyrhills Community Park, about two miles from our resort. I got Janice to drop me off at the park where half a dozen groups formed around whomever was playing stand-up bass. Small crowds surrounded each group of musicians. The idea is that you can sit in with any group and anyone can join your group as they choose. It’s mostly bluegrass and old-time country, which is not my bag because the old time country is pretty boring for a drummer and any kind of a backbeat is poison to bluegrass players so, again, not really a good fit.
The bike ride we went on this morning was promoted by our neighbour, Jim, to be an easy seven-mile loop. We would stop in halfway at Pannera’s Bread for lunch, or whatever. We did stop for an iced coffee and a bagel but the ride ended up being twenty-two-and-a-half miles because the group decided to go around a few more loop trails.
Most of these paved bike trails in Florida are abandoned railroad beds that the counties have taken over and converted to non-motorized traffic trails.
Photo: The bike group at Pannera’s Bread. Almost all of them ride twenty-seven speed recumbent bikes that are easier on the arms, wrists, back, and butt. I don’t think they’d work so well in the mountains of BC though.
By the way, did you know that Microsoft dictionary doesn’t recognize the word ‘blog’? And Janice felt bad when she discovered that she’s older than the word ‘astronaut’!
Settling in at one place, as we have here at Southern Charm, calls for far less planning, pulling up stakes and travel time. I’m happy to report though that there’s no Spanish moss growing on us yet.
I play volleyball on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday mornings and we go for extended bike rides on the other days. Janice usually swims laps for twenty minutes or so in the afternoon. There’s no way I can keep up to her so I just dog paddle around in her wake as she does the crawl for twenty laps and then side strokes for twenty more.
The Patriot Flea Market, which is not far down the road, is right next to the Zephyrhills Airport where dozens of skydivers take the plunge daily. The airport is reportedly one of the busiest parachute drop zones in theUnited States. It’s also a popular soaring/gliding spot.
Zephyrhills is a Mecca for snowbirds and other retirees. There are 154 RV parks in the area, so the restaurants and other shops cater heavily to the ‘wrinkle ranches.’ We’ve seen ongoing offers at local restaurants for: $5.00New Yorkstrip loin steaks, $6.99 all-you-can-eat fish fries and $10 fill-your-face buffets. We tried the Cuban place called Flaco’s and were rewarded with an excellent tamale, a ball of deviled crab and a Cuban sandwich. Throw in two coffees and the bill was $11.00.
On Saturday we visited Ybor City, the former cigar making capital of the US, which is actually part of Tampa. It’s a bit like Gastown in Vancouver; with lots of old brick factories, and cobblestone streets. Cigar shops abound, accompanied by restaurants, galleries, bars with live music and an outdoor market. We strolled around for an hour or so before descending on the Green Iguana for lunch.
Photo: The Green Iguana.
Later, in the evening, we went to the Festival of Lights Parade in downtown Zephyrhills. It was a refreshing slant on the regular Santa Parade because it’s a night-time affair with all of the floats lit up. It almost made us feel all festive-like and, yes, we saw Santa – the real one.
Photo: A fire engine in the parade.
Photo: Some whirling dervishes in the parade.
The next day, along with two other couples, we rode a new area called Wiregrass. Following the fifteen mile ride we stopped for lunch at Texas Roadhouse. It’s one of those places where, as soon as you walk in, there a big barrel of unshelled, salted peanuts. While waiting to be seated, customers are encouraged to discard the peanut shells on the floor as they look over the gargantuan steaks on display.
At the table there was another bucket of peanuts. To start, everybody gets a large dinner roll with cinnamon butter. None of us had steaks but all of the meals were over-the-top-Texas-sized. Janice and I, being first time customers to the roadhouse, were also sent away with a branded bag of peanuts and a coupon for a free onion blossom.
When we met the same people in the evening whom we’d had lunch with to play Mexican Train, (Dominoes) nobody had bothered to have dinner.
Photo: Some tropical Christmas ornaments we found on one of our bike rides.
We’ve been experiencing, by Florida standards, a real cold snap. Temperatures are dipping into freezing overnight and, when we start volleyball at 9:00am it’s only 39 degrees, or so, Fahrenheit. We’re going to have to go back to The Patriot Flea Market for a couple of toques and some mitts if it doesn’t warm up soon.
Photo: Despite the cold snap the flowers are still growing and the crops are unharmed. This is the vegetable stand down the road where we buy freshly squeezed orange juice.
We’ll be leaving for Vancouver this Friday and returning on Monday. Our generous neighbour, Jim, who we bike ride with, is going to drop us off and pick us up at the airport.
Last Wednesday we went for another bike ride along the Van Fleet Trail, eleven miles, to Polk City. There were supposed to be more people on the ride but it ended up being just seven of us because most of the other riders feared the cold. It turned out to be perfect for riding though – about 50 degrees and cloudless. By chance, we got to see a rocket launch too. Well, we didn’t actually see the launch itself but we did witness it streaming its vapour trail as it shot into space. Watching the news later we found out the launch was a private enterprise – not nearly as spectacular as the space shuttle, but still, a nice surprise.
At Polk City we stopped in at the Country Angels Café for lunch. I’m not going to tell you what we ate at the café, or what it cost, because it causes my buddy, Bill Lyle, to get all agitated when he’s following the blog. I thought it might be interesting for people to know how little restaurant meals cost here, in the land of the Golden Agers, when compared to the much loftier Canadian pricing. To my surprise though, these kinds of reports seem to cause utterly inexplicable email outbursts from Bill.
Janice and I have pondered our friend’s inappropriate reactions to some recent blogs and have come to several possible conclusions: It could be he’s ultra-sensitive about aging, (he is approaching sixty) or, he may be harboring some deep rooted anger management problems. Maybe he just has too much money on his hands, or, it’s hard for him to fathom that the Yankees are outdistancing us Canucks in this department. We just don’t know. Bill, we hope it’s not causing too much inner turmoil and we both sincerely wish for you to find some peace – let it go Bud.
Anybody who knows me also knows that flying is not one of my favourite things to do. Consequently I had a terrible sleep the night before we left for Vancouver, via Chicago. The flights themselves were uneventful except that we sat next to a very attractive and intelligent young woman named Marley, from Tsawassen, (nearVancouver) who was on a volleyball scholarship to Tampa Bay. Her team had just won the US national championship. I guess I should have taken a picture for the boys – sorry.
Janice, and her sister Corrine, who had flown in from Kamloops, were picked up at the airport by their mom, Rhelda.. The whole family would spend some time together at Rhelda’s place in North Vancouver. My sister, Lisa, picked me up so I could stay at her and her husband, BJ’s place in the West End of Vancouver. That way I was within walking distance of my mom’s, who also lives in downtown Vancouver.
Lisa and BJ are temporarily staying at The Sheraton Wall Centre because of a flood they had at their penthouse. The suite at the Wall Centre is on the thirty-fourth floor and has floor-to-ceiling windows. The view is impressive of course but still not quite as spectacular as the view from their thirty-seventh floor penthouse, which they’re hoping to be back in by the end of January.
BJ, who’s a Scout for the NHL’s Central Scouting, was at a game, so Lisa and I walked around downtown for a long time looking for someplace to eat. We were looking for a place that wasn’t so crowded and noisy that we wouldn’t be able to carry on a conversation. Due to my tinnitus I can’t hear anything except a roar in a room with music or other loud background noise. I’ve spent too many years playing drums in rock and roll bands, without ear protection.
We stuck our heads into several restaurants but they were all too crowded and raucous. I was on East Coast time, which by this time was about 1:00am, so I was getting pretty hungry. We checked out a couple of places on Granville Street that were full when Lisa remembered there was a new restaurant on Richard’s Street called Quattro. We finally sat down to dinner there and ordered the signature dish, black bean and garlic pasta, which was excellent. I wolfed mine in record time while BJ, who had showed up after the hockey game was over, finished Lisa’s for her.
The next day, Saturday, I met my brother, Mark, at my mom’s place and we took her out to lunch at The Hurricane Grill, (no prices Bill) and then helped her organize some of her limited edition prints. When Mark left, Mom and I sat and had a couple of drinks before I walked back to Lisa’s.
Lisa and BJ were going out to a Cirque De Soleil themed party in West Vancouver. I declined, again due to my tinnitus, as I wouldn’t be able to hear anything anybody says in a party atmosphere. I was also still a little beat from the travel the day before so I took a walk in the rain with their tiny dog, Puff, tucked into my jacket. I found some pizza and some wine and then watched the Canucks get beat at home, for the first time ever, by the Tampa Bay Lightning.
By the way, a Lightning ticket can be purchased for $5 in Tampa Bay when purchasing a Subway Sandwich. I think we will when we get back. Any ticket for a Vancouver Canucks game is upwards of $100.00.
On Sunday Lisa and I walked around downtown again, doing a little Christmas shopping, while BJ was scouting another game for the Western Hockey League. Later on we picked up Mom and drove to North Van where Rhelda, Janice and Corrine had prepared a full blown Christmas dinner – turkey with all the trimmings.
Photo: The crew at dinner: From Left: Janice’s brother Alan peeking out from behind his son Blake; our long-time friend Charlene (Charlie) Jenneson, my sister, Lisa; me; my Mom, Dorothy; BJ; Alan’s other son, Scotty; Janice’s brother, Gordon; Janice’s sister, Corrine and her mother, Rhelda, who turned seventy this year and doesn’t even have to dye her hair. She had just returned from a trip to Australia and New Zealand.
Photo: My Mom, (Dorothy) and BJ. I’d say Dorothy looks pretty damn good for someone who’ll be eighty-eight in a couple of weeks. She just had a couple more art cards published by UNICEF with all proceeds going to help children around the world born with AIDS. You can check out her art at www.dorothyfrancis.ca.
I stayed with Janice at Rhelda’s on Sunday night so that Rhelda could drive us to the airport in the morning. I’m unhappy to say that I went drugless for both flights, (no Lorazapam) and both flights had bloody rough landings.
On the flight to Chicago Janice sat beside a famous chef named Vikram Vij, owner of Vij’s restaurant in Vancouver, who was on his way to meet other famous chefs, Anthony Bordaine, Rick Bayless and some others in Chicago. When I asked if Anthony Bordaine of No Reservations and other Food Network fame was as wild as he portrays himself, Vikram confirmed that, yes, that is definitely the case. He said, “He does all things, all the time”. He went on to describe him as, “The Keith Richards of cooking.”
Photo: Janice with Vikram Vij.
On the flight from Chicago to Tampa there was a young girl carrying a huge trophy with ‘US Dance Team’ embroidered on the back of her jacket. When she got off the plane there was a big, cheering, welcoming committee for her.
Our neighbours at Lucky Charm, Jim and Rose, picked us up at the airport.
It had gotten cold enough while we were away to freeze and split the hose on the trailer’s outside shower. I had left the hose hanging – damn.
While it’s still frigid here Janice and I are planning to have a Tailgate Party this Friday. We’ve invited about twenty people to an afternoon affair. Anybody else ambling by will also be invited to share in some holiday season libations. Janice is cooking a lot of different items and we’ll have booze on hand. A two-four of beer here costs about $15. A bottle of Yellowtail can be purchased for as little as $4.97. A twenty-sixer of hard stuff is under $10.00. Bill, let it go…
On Tuesday we went for a bike ride at Winter Garden, about an hour’s drive from Zephyrhills. We left at 11:30am, not having had lunch beforehand, assuming that there were plans in the works for something to eat along the way. That was not to be the case. I had had a bowl of cereal hours before while Janice had had a piece of papaya.
Janice was riding in Jim and Rose’s vehicle while I was riding with Don, who was pictured on the Rat Bike earlier. Don is a Vietnam Vet who saw a lot of action and, over the years, has built himself a twenty-three store strip mall in Michigan- nice retirement fund. Mark and Heather followed.
Photo: The town square at Winter Garden.
When it became clear that the lunch plans were slated for after the bike ride, I slipped into a little bakery at Winter Garden and grabbed a couple of tiny pieces of biscotti for Janice and myself. Biscotti was the least sweet thing on display but was far less in volume than what we would have chosen under normal circumstances.
The ride itself was fifteen miles and was one of the more interesting we had been on. It even had a few hills, or should I call them inclines? By the time we had ridden back to the vehicles, loaded the bikes and driven to the restaurant, it was 3:45. We were ravenous.
The restaurant selected had been visited by some of the riders previously. It was nothing to look at, situated in the middle of a little strip mall, advertising pizza and Greek food in a greasy window. I had a sinking feeling that Janice and I were in for a let-down. The others had already passed on the Thai Blossom Restaurant in Winter Garden that had won numerous awards, including The Best Thai Restaurant in the Orlando Area. To our utter surprise, none of the other riders had ever had Thai food and none seemed inclined to try it.
Inside, the Italian/Greek restaurant was dull looking and devoid of ambience. The brash, fifty-ish, waitress, chewing gum through her deep southern drawl, produced plastic covered menus offering lasagna, spaghetti, pizza and other pedestrian stuff that you’d expect to find in such a place. The other riders had mentioned several times that the portions were large, and that most everybody had taken home doggy bags the last time they ate there.
While we were hungry, for us, quantity is not the yardstick by which we measure value. One couple said that the last time they ate there they had ordered a large pizza and had to take a lot of it home, so Janice and I decided to split a medium pizza, which ended up topping our tanks to the limit. The other people had huge pasta dishes, which all came with their choice of dinner-size bowls of thick, homemade chicken/rice or bacon/potato soup, or Greek salad, which wasn’t anything like what we know Greek salad to be. All helpings were generously over-the-top and finished with a thick layer of Jack cheese. The pasta dishes also came with three pieces of garlic toast! Of course, Mark, the skinniest guy at the table, finished everything put in front of him.
I can tell you that the price for the pasta dishes was just $8.95 or $9.95, depending on the dish. I report on the meal prices without fear of reproach from Bill Lyle, because, as I write this he’s otherwise occupied hiking somewhere deep inside either The Grand Canyon or Zion Canyon.
On Thursday we went for a ‘hike’ at Hillsborough State Park, just a few miles from here, with three other couples. Because it was so flat, and we were on well maintained trails, it was really more like a stroll. It was still interesting though. There was a canopy of huge cypress and oak trees overhead while many kinds of palms occupied the space underneath. We saw three armadillos as well as the biggest alligator we’ve encountered so far.
Photo: The armadillo that was busy rooting around and just wouldn’t face us – it seemed oblivious to our presence.
Photo: The ‘smiling’ alligator.
Photo: The suspension bridge where, if you look carefully, you can see some of the walkers.
Today, for the first time in a while, the weather felt like you’d expect it to be in Florida. After we got set up for the tailgate party we had to move it all to the shade because the sun was just too hot for sitting in. Janice had made lots of tasty finger foods and was having fun coaxing the fussier eaters to expand their culinary horizons. A few guys showed up with their guitars so, all in all it made for a nice afternoon. The only trouble was, we forgot to take a single picture.
It’s supposed to rain tomorrow so the timing for the party worked just right.
Sunday was our 30th Anniversary. A lot of couples might spend such an occasion going out for a nice dinner, or perhaps celebrating with family.
Not us.
To my surprise Janice suggested that we attend the Tampa Bay Buccaneers/Detroit Lions NFL game. Of course I wasn’t opposed to the idea but I threw out a couple of other suggestions anyway, like: we could go to Tarpon Springs for a bike ride, where the Greek immigrants have been diving for sponges for decades and where we could go for authentic Greek food; we could also go to The Dome Imax Theatre in Tampa where The Hubble documentary is reportedly an amazing show.
Janice went on to convince me that the NFL game might be a one off chance to take in the spectacle of an American football game and, that she might get to take in a tailgate party at the same time. Some of you ladies, no doubt, are thinking, “What was she thinking? An NFL game on a 30th Anniversary!?” Well ladies, you should know that any truly devoted wife would happily do the same.
Janice went online to The Bucs website and was almost finished the on-line purchase of the tickets, at $121.00 each – I know, pretty expensive – but when she tried to ‘Complete Purchase’ the site wanted an address to send the tickets to. That wasn’t going to work because it was already 9:00pm and the game was the next morning. Becoming a little frustrated, we went to bed thinking we’d call in the morning and reserve the same tickets that were now probably somewhere in no man’s land because Janice hadn’t cancelled the purchase.
In the morning, contrary to the forecast, we woke to pouring rain. It was also foggy and cold in Tampa so we decided to cancel the purchase and go to the Imax theatre instead. By the time we checked the schedule for the Hubble show however we had already missed it.
We ended up going for breakfast at the Two Minutes Restaurant, so named because the ever-present owner is a little Thai guy who notes the number in your party and then, holding up two fingers, proclaims, “Two minutes.” Two minutes later he returns and says again, “Two Minutes.” In our case we only had to wait two ‘two minutes’ spells. Inside the restaurant are all kinds of John Wayne memorabilia including a comical picture of the two-pint Thai owner looking very serious in an over-sized ten gallon cowboy hat.
I’m not going near the meal pricing issue because my buddy Bill Lyle is home again. Following is some of his commentary resulting from my earlier jibes. I don’t know what I was thinking when I threw out the bait – I’m no match.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………
“Alright……..I’ve had a bit of counseling and some very long reflective hikes. I can say without reservation that I will change my ways and try to embrace your new obsession. Your reaction to my mild criticisms surprised me and I can only guess that that constantFloridasun has peeled a layer of skin from you. Your petty put-downs directed my way, meant to embarrass me in front all the blog readers, have worked, but also reminded me of the power of a man with a captive audience. Now that your readership has grown, remember to use your power for good Tim, and try not to go all Jim Jones on us.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Bill then detailed every meal he had on his recent trip as well as what it cost. Funny guy.
Our aforementioned neighbours, Jim and Rose, were with us at the Two Minutes Restaurant and suggested, considering the rain, that maybe we should visit the huge Big Tent indoor flea market not far from us. There Janice bought two different chipotle hot sauces and some fresh stone crab. The stone crab was the first we had seen since our feast at Robyn and Dales’ inKey West.
While we had planned on going to dinner in Tampa for our anniversary, by the time we got back from the flea market, we decided instead to pick up some tenderloin and a good bottle of red wine and have dinner at home. The white wine, that Mark and Heather had brought us for our anniversary, we paired with the stone crab and then had the Zinfandel with the tenderloin and salad with cranberry, walnut and blue cheese dressing. The meal was undoubtedly much better than we could have found in a restaurant.
On Monday morning I accepted an invitation to golf at nearby Bernadette Hills with a few guys from the park. I’m pretty sure that they took me for some kind of sand bagger when my first drive outdistanced any of them by thirty or forty yards. My next shot landed the green from a hundred-and-eighty yards out. When I two-putted for a par I saw them look at each other like, “Sure, now he’s gonna’ ask to play for money.”
They learned on the very next hole though how quickly the wheels could fall off of my game when my ball caught a branch on a tree and ended up in the jungle. It got worse from there and I ended up taking a nine on the hole. I then proceeded to thoroughly stink up the other seventeen holes. I was a hit with the guys though.
Tuesday was relatively quiet. Following volleyball we washed the truck, went for a swim, had a drink for Happy Hour with Jim and Rose and then watched the folks parade their decorated bikes and golf carts around the park.
Photo: The gazebo at Southern Charm RV, with a full moon.
Photo: The golf carts get ready to parade around the park.
Photo: Cliff posing as he waits for the parade.
Photo: Later, Cliff rolls by.
On Wednesday we went with about twenty other riders to the Pinellas Trail near Clearwater. Janice and I peeled off from the other riders after an hour though, back towards the start, so that we could make it to Tarpon Springs for Greek food, Later we would be attending a Christmas affair at Art and Helen’s – Art being one of the golfers. At Mikinos restaurant in Tarpon Springs we had Saganaki and then split a house special. I’ve forgotten what they called it, but it was a lamb shank baked with okra and it was really very good.
Photo: The riders on the Pinellas Trail.
Photo: The bakery at Mikinos Greek Restaurant.
We walked around the town of Tarpon Springs, which is renowned for being the Sponge Capital of the World. Sponge dive boats line the harbour. I’d have a couple of excellent shots of them except that I accidentally deleted them after a few drinks at Art’s party later in the day.
The next day, after volleyball, we rode with Neighbour Jim to Wiregrass to check out a Mexican restaurant that one of the people here had claimed to be of the authentic variety. Not so, not at all. It was sterile, self-seve and cafeteria-like. Nor was there a single Mexican working there. Our plan is to go for Mexican food on Christmas Eve but it will be at the one we’ve seen near downtown Zephyrhills.
We’re starting to feel slightly complacent here so have decided we’ll be moving on as of January 1.
Christmas Eve was sunny and warm. I played volleyball while Janice took a walk and then went for supplies. Later, while I was playing music, Janice swam some laps and then we headed to Randy and Mary’s for a backyard cocktail party.
Photo: Some of the musicians on Christmas Eve. The only woman, Pearl, is a Newfie and, except for Randy the upright bass player, who’s from Michigan, the others are from Ontario. From left: Newt, in the orange; Alec and Palmer.
Following the cocktail party Janice and I went to Los Chicos Mexican Restaurant in Zephyrhills for dinner. We started with chili rellenos and then had pulled pork with salsa verde and cactus. We’d never had cactus before but it was both unique and slippery delicious. JR, you were right, it’s from the Prickly Pear Cactus.
Back at the park, following tradition, most of the inhabitants had lined the streets with plastic milk jugs lit from within by candles. They looked like luminous white pumpkins, spaced every eight feet or so. It was very cool, literally but also visually, with the odd camp fire glowing, and groups of people wandering around, some arm-in-arm singing carols.
Christmas morning was warm and sunny again so I played volleyball while Janice walked and swam laps.
It seems to be the American way to do Thanksgiving and Christmas Dinners early in the afternoon. Our neigbbours, Freya and Ken, (relatives of Neighbour Jim) had a sit-down Christmas Dinner for fourteen. We were placed right at the centre, fully engaged with turkey, ham and all the fixings by 1:00pm. Everyone who contributed to the dinner was asked to prepare their own take on the traditional Christmas meal. This resulted in an unusually large number of different dishes. It was all very gracious of them because, except for Jim and Rose, we hardly knew anyone.
Janice and I walked a few miles after the dinner, but that had a minimal effect on the turkey hangover. Later we played Newfie Bingo with Jim, Rose, and more of their relatives, Cheryl, and the Other Jim.
Boxing Day, (which Americans don’t recognize) we awoke to spotty rain and brisk winds. After a cool, wet and windy walk around the park, the idea of lounging around, taking it easy while watching a little football became more and more attractive. We went for another less bitter walk at halftime. Janice went out for a couple of things while I caught the whole of The Jets loss to The Bears.
Before dinner I took two out of three games of Eight Ball from Janice. Later, we lay low, Janice getting a scratchy feeling at the back of her throat. By morning she had a full blown sore throat.
I had scheduled an appointment at the Ford dealership for new tires for the truck. I asked them to look at the brakes at the same time because, at speed, they were chattering slightly. The good news was: the tires, which are required to be ten ply, load rated for a one-ton truck, cost just $557.00. Better yet, that price included mounting and balancing, as well as a wheel alignment.
Neighbour Jim had insisted on giving us a ride to the dealership. It was still cold so Jim asked Janice and me to choose an activity, besides bike riding, that would serve to eat up some time while we waited for our vehicle. Jim’s one of those guys that would give you the shirt off his back. He makes it his job to be there for everyone.
Janice decided that she could handle a bit of bowling. Jim and Rose decided they were up for it too. The lanes turned out to be of the ten-pin variety and none of us had played that game for the past thirty years. There are no ten-pin lanes where we live. It seemed to us though that ten-pin is actually easier than five-pin, especially for Janice, who pretty well sucks at five-pin. She finally backed up her claimes over the years wherein she’d exhibit superior skills at ten-pin. Jim was the ace though, winning two out of three games.
Photo: Janice demonstrates her bowling form.
While we were bowling I got the call from The Dealership. The bad news? The truck needed new rotors in the front; the rear rotors needed to be turned; it needed new brake shoes and whatever else they do when they do a brake job. It was also time for a power steering flush. All-in all it was another $950.00, on top of the tires.
Jim and Rose suggested we celebrate with fish and chips at The Chowder House. Rose had a coupon. Why not? When you take a wee kick in the budgetary wallet, what’s another fifteen bucks?
Photo: Jim and Rose at the Chowder House. Jim retired from thirty-one years as a production worker at GM Canada while Rose worked fourteen years in a plastic factory. They’ve been together since early high school. Their children are all grown and have spawned a bunch of grand kids. Jim tells his kids. “If there’s anything left when I’m gone, there’s been a mistake made somewhere.”
As I write this, Janice lays on the couch nursing her throat while Jim and I wait for the call to go back to the dealership for the truck.
The morning after Janice had come down with a sore throat, I woke with a sharp pain in my sinuses. I played volleyball anyway and the sinuses never bothered me. It was when I stopped that it came back with a vengeance. We went and got stocked up with some Nyquil/Dayquil for Janice and some Extra Strength Sudafed for me.
It was sunny but crisp so we decided against an invitation for a bike ride and, instead, took a drive to Tampa’s Apollo Beach because there are supposed to be lots of manatees there. The manatees are attracted to the warm water emitted from a huge power plant.
Apparently a lot of other people had the same idea as us because, as we approached, there were cars lined up a mile or so each way from the entrance to the parking lot. We got closer to the lot and a woman indicated by hand signal that there was a spot available ahead. She was right, when we got into the parking lot, there were, indeed, lots of parking spots. There’s little else to tell about the excursion because, as it turns out, manatees are docile in the extreme. We watched them hover and surface, ever so slowly, for a few minutes but were soon as bored as they appeared to be. We also saw some stingrays and a few sharks swimming amongst them. Apparently manatees have no natural predators. Even so, they’re endangered. I can see why – they likely die from an acute sense of dullness.
Photos: The manatees at Apollo Beach. We may seek them out again, but in a more natural environment.
For dinner that night I made a Caesar Salad with four big cloves of garlic- a salad designed to decimate the cold germs within – a salad designed to kick that cold right on out in a heap, slamming it to earth, heaving for breath. In the morning, not only had the salad failed to vanquish the cold, but the power was out too. Luckily for us we have propane heat and a propane stove.
I turned down another invitation to golf with the guys because of my sore sinuses. Instead, Janice and I went for a short bike ride in the sunshine, which was followed by Janice making margaritas for Jim and Rose and the Other Jim and Cheryl.
Neighbour Jim paid $1,500 for his recumbent bike a couple of months ago and the tires have already split, so the dealer in Floral City, agreed to replace them at no cost. We said we’d go with them and planned on a bike ride at the same time. Jim and I played volleyball in the morning and then we all drove to Floral City. The bike shop replaced the tires while we lunched on cheeseburgers at the Shamrock Café, before riding to Inverness and back – about 17 miles.
Photo: Through the windshield, is the entrance to Floral City.
By the end of the ride Janice said she felt she had pretty well shaken the cold. That means that, hopefully, I should be cold free too, by tomorrow.
Photo: The four of us at the lake at Inverness.
Some other neighbours, Tom & Sharon, have offered to by us lunch at their favourite Mexican restaurant. Later we‘re going to The Other Jim and Cheryl’s for dinner and then New Year’s celebrations. We have to fit volleyball and other stuff in there too, and tomorrow morning we’re moving on, so I’m sending the blog now. We’ll likely be out of touch for a few days, so… Here’s wishing everyone a Happy, Healthy and Wealthy New Year!
We spent a pretty quiet New Years Eve playing Newfie Bingo with Jim, Rose and The Other Jim and Cheryl. We were home by 12:30 and when we turned on the tube there was an Eric Clapton concert on, so we had another glass of wine and got to bed around 2:00am.
New Years Eve I played volleyball in the morning while Janice readied a few things for pulling out in the morning. Neighbours, Tom and Sharon took us to Poncho Villa’s for excellent Mexican food at San Antonio, about a twenty-five minute drive from Zephyrhills.
Photo: Janice and Sharon entering Poncho Villa.
I got up too late on New Years Day for volleyball so we readied for moving instead. By ten-thirty we were all set to hit the road, but it took another half hour or so to say our goodbyes. Our destination, Homosassa Springs, was just an hour distant, so we took our time enjoying the warmth, the sunshine and the new road.
By lunch time we were set up at Turtle Creek RV Resort. We decided to tour the historic Homosassa Springs District, looking for something to eat.
Photo: A turtle in Turtle Creek, at our campsite.
As soon as we turned the corner from our resort we spotted Neon Leon’s Zydeco Steak House. Some of you may know that Neon Leon was the bass player for Lynyrd Skynyrd for thirty years, until his death in 2001. One of his cousins, Mitch, is the proprietor of the restaurant and a musician himself. He opened the restaurant as a tribute to his cousin and has been featuring live Zydeco music from day one. Of course, trading off of his famous cousin’s name hasn‘t hurt him.
We sat outside atLeon’s and split a rich and delicious shrimp Po-Boy. After enquiring from the waitress about the music, she said that we’d need a reservation if we wanted to catch the show, which always begins at five or five-thirty. We exclaimed our surprise that we’d need a reservation on New Year’s Day but she insisted it was very popular, so we asked her to put our names down.
Photo: Leon Neon’s signature stage hat.
We toured the rest of Homosassa Springs, stopping at Walmart to buy a coaxial cable for the TV. We’d inadvertently left our cable behind at Zephyrhills.
Photo: The waterway at Homosassa Springs.
I had a wolf nap while Janice walked around the park, and then we showered and headed for Neon Leon’s. Sure enough, our places had our names on them at the bar but, aside from a few bikers, we were the only ones there. A half hour went by before people started straggling in. To our disappointment, at 5:30, this Lynryrd Skynyrd look-alike guy got up and started singing country songs over programmed tracks!
After a couple of tunes, Mitch got up and accompanied him on guitar, still over the music tracks. While the singer was very good, as was Mitch’s guitar playing, while it was good quality, it was still glorified Karaoke. When we enquired from Mitch’s wife if there was any Zydeco on the menu for the evening, she said, “Oh, they have the night off, but they’ll be back tomorrow night.” We paid our bill and said we’d be back.
We awoke on Sunday to a sunny day and decided to take a trip to Crystal River. We got lost a couple of times following the narrow roads that meandered through a number of grassland wildlife refuges. We ate lunch leaning into a brisk wind on the beach, entertained by hundreds of birds.
Photo: A few of the hundreds of gulls, terns and grackles that competed for any lunch crumbs that might inadvertently be offered up. Yes, we tested their skills with a few crumbs.
Later in the afternoon we went for a long walk to what remains of the Old Sugar Mill, the original backbone of the community. The industry it had once provided has morphed into a tourism draw in recent years.
After dinner we went back to NeonLeon’s and caught Cajun Dave and Mitch putting on a show for a large fiftieth birthday party. Dave was an amazing musician who played acoustic guitar, banjo, mouth organ, a sawed-off electric fiddle and the squeeze box. He was exceptional at all of the instruments but the squeezebox was a real standout. Because of the birthday party Dave and Mitch were clowning around a lot, playing requests for those enjoying the party. So, it wasn’t all Cajun or Zydeco music, but still, very entertaining.
Photo: Janice entering Leon Neon’s.
Photo: Mitch, on the left, a guest from the birthday party, and Cajun Dave. All have on fake beards for the number.
Photo: While the pictures are fuzzy, they give an idea of the atmosphere at Leon Neon’s.
The morning was sunny but crisp as we headed north for Manatee Springs State Park. I pulled into a tire shop to have the tires rotated on the trailer. The tire guy pointed out that two of the tires were worn on the inside. About an hour, and $211.00 later, we had some new trailer tires and were back on the road, in time for a late lunch at Manatee Springs.
Way down upon the Suwannee River. For those of you old enough, it is the same river made famous by the camp fire song. It snakes silently by Manatee Springs Park, taking on 35 to 150 million additional gallons of water that pour daily from Manatee Springs, a quarter of a mile away. The Suwannee River flows into the Gulf of Mexico, about twenty miles west. Manatees are drawn to the consistently warm water generated by the springs and, while we never spotted one of them, we did see some monstrous catfish.
Photo: The channel that leads from the springs to the river, with lots of dead cypress tree stumps.
Photo: The boardwalk to the Suwannee River from Manatee Springs.
Photo: The pier at the Suwannee River.
Photo: A turtle growing moss in the murky water of the river.
Photo: A crane at the Suwanee River.
Photo: A buzzard at Manatee Springs.
Ever since we got the new tires and brake job on the truck, it has felt loose in the front end. I especially noticed it once we started towing again – it seems I have to wrestle with it slightly, instead of guiding it. We decided that the new tire tread was significantly affecting the handling, so we decided on lowering the trailer hitch a notch, to no avail.
We pulled into a Ford dealership yesterday after leaving Manatee Springs and were told that it could possibly be a faulty wheel alignment. I mentioned I had checked the air pressure in the new tires and that, while the fronts had sixty-four pounds each, the backs had eighty-eight pounds each. The guys at Ford thought that was probably okay, but had no way to know for sure. They weren’t really helpful at all, so, knowing that the old truck tires had fifty pounds each, I decided to let some air out. I reduced the fronts to fifty pounds and the backs to fifty-five pounds and, voila, problem solved. Best of all, it didn’t cost anything.
As we traveled northward yesterday we noticed that the flora was suddenly changing from jungle to scrub pines, indicating that we were leaving the tropics, which we saw as an opportunity to have our first campfire in a couple of months.
Photo: A happy Janice at the campfire.
Photo: The St. Marks River at the same campsite, at Newport.
As I send this, we’ve just set up at the Big Oaks RV Resort in Tallahassee, the state capitol. It’s raining now but we’re on our way out to see what‘s shaking.
It turned out there wasn’t that much to see around Tallahassee. We toured around the rather anemic looking capitol buildings – I’ve seen nicer city halls than the Florida State Capitol Building. We also toured the campus of FSU but weren’t much impressed. Few Seminoles were sighted due to the deluge of rain that had developed. We were told that we never would have been able to procure our campsite, or any other one around Tallahassee, during football season, which ended with the Seminoles winning their bowl game.
Today we’re headed west, along the Florida Panhandle.
