MY 50-STATE STRATEGY

SOAKING UP THE SUNDOWN: A couple settle in to watch the show (top) on St. Joe's beach and (bottom) Mother nature doesn't dissapoint.

FOR SALE:
HURRICANE HARBOR
SO YOU'RE LOOKING FOR A SECOND HOME? A vacation nest, you say? Warmer clime? Near the beach OK? Would you take a gamble? Well, if you’re so inclined, have I got the place for you. Good stuff cheap. Probably could be had for a song. Well, maybe a couple of songs.
After a day during which I spent about three hours near noon driving at 30-40 mph thru endless stoplights on the back roads of Orlando, and therefore the rest of the day heading northwest on the interstates, I finally arrived on the coast of the Florida Panhandle as the long dusk on the western edge of the East time zone began to fall.
Driving along the waterfront at the top of the Gulf of Mexico, one is struck by two things: first is how optimal these stilt houses look, mere yards from the sandy shore on shady lots surrounded by abundances of tall sand pines and swaying palms; second are the hundreds of For Sale signs fronting the large majority of these same lots.
Hurricane season must seem endless around these parts. Although there is little evidence of last season’s tempests about, just an occasional pile of junk here and there, the long, hot stormy summer and steamy early fall are presently percolating.
However, you can’t buy, you can only rent at St. Joseph’s Peninsula State Park.
I finally arrived well after dark. Now in no hurry, I took my time after sundown, leisurely tooling along the long 21-mile causeway out to the park, soothed by the powerful scent of jasmine in the air. After settling in, I took immediately to sleep, intending an early start to my exploration.
First, a personal opinion: Whoa! This place is first-class…
Next, a brief history: the Native American tribes who hunted and fished along these shores at least 1,500 hundred years ago were supplanted by Spanish explorers about 1,000 years later. After the Spaniards departed, locals trying to make a go of it out here were decimated by yellow fever prior to the Civil War. After the conflict, one family held the land ‘til World War II, when the U.S. government bought it for use as a military training ground. The Park Service opened it in its present form in 1967. Good thing too, as it was voted America’s Best Beach in 2002.
Finally, for some geography and mixed with nature science: For those of you who have visited Small Pointe, Maine (and you know who you are!), this area seems to combine the very best of Hermit Island and Popham Beach, but Southern style.
Serenaded by songbirds stopping over after the long spring journey from South America, the aqua-blue water next to nine-and-one-half miles of wide snow-white sand, make for a sensational early morning surprise. Liberally sprinkled with storm-tossed seashells, the west-facing beach is bordered by maritime hummocks covered in sea oak and fringed with pines, Magnolias and palms along with quite a few stubby, chubby cactus trees.
Whipped by wind and water, tempered by lightning fires, these dunes are home to sea turtles, rare shorebirds and some endangered beach mouse. The marshes between dunes house egrets, herons, bobcats, raccoons and water snakes (I did not personally observe any of these beside the shorebirds and a cluster of egrets, but the park brochure assures me they are near; among some other details it contributed to this post, it also states that the fall season is said to bring the bloom of many wildflowers on the dunes, attracting migrating Monarch butterflies).
Fishing is popular here. Pompey and whiting top the menu with blue crab and scallops alternately available. One surfcaster assures me that Pompey make for “some good eatin’.” Birdwatchers also abound as 243 species have so far been reported (Birders in Florida during April? Who woulda thunk it!)
The camping area is scattered about in a two-mile area. The cluster I’m situated in, Gulf Breezes, sits next the beach just over the dunes and contains roughly half of the park’s 120 formal sites. The other camping area, Shady Pines, lies to the north up the beach, with the day area and boat ramp on the harbor just south of here. The rest of the peninsula is seven-and-one-half mile of wilderness preserve that can be accessed via the hiking trails or by kayak. Limited camping is allowed in this area. There are also eight equipped cabins and a group camping area available on the island.
The area bathroom/shower facilities are very modern and environmentally friendly. And although each site has it own water source and electric hookup, what is distinctly lacking is a cell phone tower. So there is no signal, but several “ringtones” I’ve heard here are really songbirds (does that mean that cell ringtones are now the city’s songbirds? Break up into small discussion groups.). Anyway, I’ll have to file this post when I get to Panama City, just northwest along the coast, or civilization - whichever comes first.

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I also spent several hours working on the trailer, reconfiguring several problem areas after a 1,278-mile shakedown cruise around Florida. Also, we have an early frontrunner in the highest gas-price sweepstakes: Johnson & Johnson Shell along Route 10 in Madison, Fla. – $2.899 per gallon! A full 12.4 cents per gallon above my Florida average over eight stops.
This concludes the Florida portion of our program. Now it’s a sprint West out of the Panhandle, through the small coastal southern rims of Alabama and Mississippi and then into Louisiana (my first foray into all three states) and finally to Texas where I look forward to a visit with the Captain in San Antonio while on my way to Big Bend National Park on the Mexican border.

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My utter lack of common sense in certain situations has been a constant source of wonder to me over my lifetime, and last night was no exception. I knew I’d be late out to the park, so I called ahead and made arrangements with the ranger on duty. He gave me the lock code and told me to close the gate behind me. I arrived in the dark, but did not see a touch pad on which to key in the code, so I got a flashlight and searched high-&-low for it. I could not find it, and after observing the big padlock on the gate, I thought I had been forgotten and began to think about pulling over the trailer and bedding down right there. After several minutes of indecision, a car pulled up and I rushed up to ask the driver what the secret was. He pointed out that the padlock was a combination lock. Ahhhh! Such a dope! But, at least, I did close the gate behind me.