On March 4th we arrived at Lake Griffin State Park , a small, heavily treed recreation area with a boat ramp, picnic area, canoe rentals and about 30 campsites of varying sizes. It is also one of those built when a 16’ Airstream trailer was the cat’s meow of travel trailers. Although the depth of our assigned campsite was plenty adequate, the width of the access road to it was tight. In order to keep our vehicle and trailer from being scratched and dented by trees and other plants growing up to the road’s edge as we back in, we need about a two-lane wide road in front of our campsite. This location had barely a single lane width and the site was not angled in our favor but was perpendicular to the road. After repeated attempts we contacted a ranger and she suggested that we approach the site from the opposite direction; evidently they’ve had to do this before. So, she guarded against approaching traffic as we drove the wrong direction around the one-way road and were finally able to squeeze our rig into the designated area. Other than that, we had a great time during our stay!
We determined that one of the main reasons for the existence of the Park was to safeguard Florida’s fifth largest Live Oak tree. The nearby plaque reads “One of the largest oaks in the state, this several hundred year old tree is 10 feet in diameter, 83 feet high and has a spread of 131 feet. Once sought after by ship builders, these stately trees provide food and shelter for several animal species as well as a place of attachment for various air plants, mosses and ferns.” We couldn’t have said it any better. This tree was magnificent.
Jay is nearly 6 feet tall so, you can imagine the size of the trunk of this Live Oak.
Jay in proportion to its height.
Since Lake Griffin didn’t have much in the way of hiking trails we drove south to Lake Louisa State Park for a day hike. Besides our stay in Savannah, this was the only excursion that we took Chris’ camera equipment with us thus far. The lens she used primarily was away for repair so she pulled out her long, telephoto 200 mm lens for most of the day. It may turn out to be her new favorite as she didn’t have to bend over so far to capture subjects on the ground!
Many of Florida’s parks practice controlled burning of the land to rid them of invasive plant species. Large areas we passed along the paths appeared to have recently been burned as the ground and tree trunks were black and no new vegetation seemed to be sprouting. It was strange to walk along and see an open, charred landscape on one side of the path and dense vegetation on the other. At one point we heard a familiar rustle and, from under a saw palmetto, out popped an armadillo. This is where Chris’s long lens came in handy as she simply zoomed in and captured a terrific photo of this little guy that was less than three feet from her.
It’s a good thing they have armor because this one didn’t see us at all and made quite a racket while rummaging for food. One would think they would be very vulnerable prey otherwise.
The next day we headed to the Ocala National Forest for a canoe ride down Juniper Springs. We’d heard it was a beautiful river but nothing we’d experienced thus far prepared us for what we encountered. The large pool at the spring headwaters was funneled into a narrow channel via a grist mill water wheel then ran in a shallow stream to the canoe launch area a short distance downstream. The water was so clear we wondered if it was actually there!
The reflection of the sun is the only way you can tell there is water over this sandy bottom.
Once underway we floated along the stream which was no wider than 10-15 feet, and wondered at the tropical beauty surrounding us. We could easily have been deep in the heart of the Amazon or an exotic Disney World ride for all we knew. Our awe soon turned to concentration as before too long, we were dodging trees leaning precipitously far into our path and those that had fallen completely into the water. The current quickened as the stream picked up volume from additional springs and continued its narrow, shallow, twisting habit. What we thought was going to be another peaceful drift down a placid river required our complete attention just to keep from being speared by the branches blocking our path, running aground on their submerged trunks or being slammed against the riverbank at a bend’s apex. After a short time we mastered the attitude required to complete the task at hand and found the obstacles to be an exhilarating challenge.
The dense tropical growth almost completely covering the stream.
Just a sampling of the obstacles we encountered.
Open areas along the banks were sparse but we did come across a couple of healthy alligators who managed to find patches of sun. Turtles abounded and we even caught glimpses of deer – an elusive animal we had not seen much of to that time.
One of several large gators we passed.
A huge turtle catching some rays.
As we approached another tricky segment of the river, we were warned to slow our pace by fellow boaters. An elderly couple’s canoe had overturned in an area where the narrow stream veered sharply to the left. They had slammed against the bank, lost their balance and over they went. The middle-aged couple that had cautioned us was standing by, but not offering to assist, while the man attempted to right his canoe. The problem was, every time he turned it over to dump out the water, it scooped up more when he tried to right it. The white haired, overweight man was obviously out of his element and Chris had visions of a heart attack in progress as we watched him through another few attempts. Finally Jay overcame his concern for his safety from alligators and other slithering natives and, not wanting to put his CPR certification to use, braved the chilly water to lend a hand. Before long they had the canoe upright, bailed and loaded with gear. Grateful smiles and waves preceded us as we once again got underway.
The grateful couple preparing to load their gear.
The only thing missing was his cape.
Chris was scheduled to work a convention in Miami and needed to participate in a conference call at 3 p.m. We embarked on our canoe trip fully anticipating to be done well before that time and in an area that had a cell signal higher than the one bar we had on the river. Not to be. You should have seen Chris watching the bars on the cell phone go from zero to two, to one, to zero, back up to one like a yoyo as they tried to stop in an area that provided the minimum needed to complete the call. Repeatedly she would make a connection only for the signal to be dropped. Finally she got two bars while next to a fairly open field where she got out of the canoe and dialed the number. Watching out for snakes and alligators, and feeling like the Verizon “Can you hear me now?” guy, the only way she could maintain a connection and talk at the same time was to stand in the middle of the field, holding the phone as high in the air as her altitude challenged limbs would carry it, pray that the signal would persist and, with the speaker function on, talk as if nothing were unusual on her end at all!
Having handled two crises it wasn’t long before we encountered another overturned canoe; this time a 30 something couple. Fortunately two, strapping, young men arrived on the scene just after us and they immediately hopped into the water, righted the canoe and had the occupants reseated and on their way in a jiffy. It was obvious to us that the topple had rattled the young woman enormously as she was not anxious to get back into the vessel but knew she had no choice. We cast assuring chatter their way as we followed them and retrieved her lost paddle. We felt sorry for her mate as he then bore the brunt of propelling and steering the canoe because she was too terrified to assist.
The day was dwindling and the time for the last pickup at the landing was fast approaching. Fortunately we were on the final leg of the trip and the dense, tropical terrain gave way to open fields. The river widened and straightened somewhat and we dug in and sped up so as not to be left behind. All in all, we could say it was the most memorable river we’d experienced thus far, but not for the reasons one might think.
On March 10th, Chris flew to Miami Beach for the three day convention. The timing was perfect for Jessica’s schedule and they shared some evenings together with dinners, a movie and even a visit to a nightclub with some of her friends where the band was so loud Chris’ ears were ringing when she left, reminding her why she never does that anymore. The weather there was spectacular and after closing her booth, Chris spent the afternoon on the pool deck of the Loews Hotel banging on the laptop and catching up on several months of blog postings, before leaving for her flight home. Great weather, visiting with Jessica, meeting new people and progress on the blog – a perfect way to spend four days.
The pool deck area with open-air bar where Chris passed an afternoon.
A gorgeous setting at the Loews Miami Beach Hotel.
Chris with Jessica and her friend Gladys at the nightclub.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Jay consoled is loneliness by overdosing on Chinese food and watching bloody, guy, war movies.
On the 15th we drove to Tavares to spend the day with Dave and Ruth Taisch. They had made much progress on their backyard trainscape, since our visit last year, and gave us a demonstration with a couple of trains. What a wonderful way to occupy one’s time. Ruth had started to plant the grounds with low growing sedum and was building bridge trestles out of tiny cedar beams. The trains are controlled remotely from a single device that has the ability to manage several at once with each of them having a separate code which Dave and Ruth assign. The whistles sound surprisingly authentic and they even have a tiny, yellow and green utility train, complete with its own car. The tracks skirt around concrete lined pools, and follow the rise and fall of stone banked hillocks as they make their way around the course that covers the better part of 900 square feet. The entire endeavor is labor of love and what fun!
An idea of the size of this train playground.
Note the bridge trestle and green sedum details. The entire project is just gorgeous.
This is the adorable little utility train.
Dave positions a derailed engine.
Our conversation turned to flight, as it so often does with aviators, and Dave, having his own plane, invited Jay to go flying with him the following day. Oh the joy of the smell of avgas, internal combustion engines and powered flight. What more could an old Coastie dream of as the day brought back memories of the good ole days. Jay was completely blow away by some of the newer technology employed on such a tiny craft. He got to bore holes in the sky, and was amazed at how quickly his skills came up to speed while steering through steep turns and altitude changes. Some things never change.
Jay even keeps in contact with his daughter Lori’s childhood friends, one of whom is Joanne Ditzler. For a few weeks, she was avoiding the New Jersey winter at her Florida home and we arranged to meet for lunch in Minneola, about half way between our and her locations. We chose our dining facility based on the Sheriff’s car parked in front and had no regrets in the food or the company. Joanne is a real trip and reminded Chris in many ways of Lori because of her tiny, slightly built figure and mannerisms. We met at noon, shared stories and many hearty laughs, and were the last to leave when the establishment closed its doors at 3 p.m.
Joanne and Jay.
On the 18th our reservation at Lake Griffin was up. We once again braved the I-75 interstate, which we had avoided almost entirely up to that point, and moved 55 miles north to Paynes Prairie State Park.
