travel – peregrinations

Spring 2021-Part 6 (end)

Ft. Hamby CG, Goose Point CG

Departure day, Wednesday, April 28, left Leslie, Annie, and Karen & Steve at Lake Powhatan, while the remainder of us scattered—some to homes, some to further campgrounds.

John & Mary and we took a leisurely drive (~2 hours) to Ft. Hamby Campground, another lakeside campground just outside of Wilkesboro, NC (near Mt. Airy). It was a pretty Corps of Engineers place along W. Kerr Scott Reservoir (not to be confused with Kerr Lake near Clarksville, VA). We set up in site #5, without a water view, and J&M were uphill from us in (possibly?) #7. The bathhouse was nearby, clean, and communal.

As with many of our travel days, we ate an easy meal around J&M’s campfire and hit the hay.

On Thursday, April 29 Jack and I took a 50-minute cycle, doing the 2.5-mile paved roads once and the (longer) gravel, pavilion, and group camping areas once for a total of about 7 miles. There was lots of climbing involved, so it turned out to be a good workout. J&M drove down to the boat launch area and took the kayaks out.

Drove into Wilkesboro for provisions (from a Lowes Foods that was quite nice) and Jack communicated with his eye surgeon about his upcoming cataract surgeries, starting with the right eye on May 12. As the day warmed into the 80s, we lounged about in the shade and cooked a pork loin and fresh corn on the cob on the grill, and J&M brought potatoes to share.

Friday, April 30 was an exercise day like the one before with us riding the loops and roads and J&M kayaking in the lake.

Additionally, I walked the Bushwacker Falls Trail, along the water’s edge and then up a feeder creek, which was a down-and-back of not quite 2 miles. The evening held a visit from John’s cousin Rachel who lives in Boones Mill, and we joined them at their site to meet her and share Mary’s spaghetti & salad dinner with them.

We left Ft. Hamby early on Saturday, May 1, letting our house sitter, John, know we were returning earlier than we’d expected, and we threw the ball for mischief a while, and exchanged some things in the trailer for our next, appended, adventure—a friend who was unable to use her reservation gifted it to us, so we left home after a breakfast of locally-grown fresh eggs and bacon, on Sunday, May 2 at about 2P. After feeding up the falcon and packing up all the dogs’ gear (and the dogs) we got to Philpott Lake’s Goose Point Campground about 45 minutes later. Site #6 was right above the beach, with no site (other than the picnic pavilion and beach area) to the east side. The BBB that had used the site before us was still in place, so we parked in the overflow parking area next to the amphitheater, and took a short hike along the water’s edge to let the dogs stretch their legs.

The site was wide enough that we could angle the trailer so our back was mostly to the road, and it was nicely shaded. In addition, we were able to receive 2-3 bars of Verizon LTE everywhere in the loop.

On the downside, the wind off the water was positively howling, so we chose not to set up the awning. Managing our gear with no awning and the forecast rain was a bit of a challenge, but we arranged everything, and then Jack turned around and drove back home.

His two appointments for the day (a paperwork/pre-op for the surgery, and getting a Covid-19 test prior to his surgery) were scheduled for Monday, May 3, so he trundled back home to rest up before being poked, prodded, and paperworked. My evening amounted to eating a salad, walking the dogs and going to bed early with my book.

As expected, the rains arrived at 5A, and I buttoned up the trailer and stayed in bed a few hours Monday, May 3. The winds had calmed considerably, however, and the rain actually had let up as dawn approached, so I decided to wrestle the awning up by myself. Not a bad job, even if I did say so myself.

While it rained off-and-on most of the day, the dogs and I took hike/walks when the downpour wasn’t too terrible.

Still, the interior moisture from towels, clothes, and doggie fur prompted me to turn on the AC to help dry things out. I took one long hike solo, so I could really stretch my legs without having to stop every time the dogs wanted to sniff something, and had an interesting encounter with a box turtle.

I’m one of those who will get out of a car to move a turtle out of the road in the direction it was headed to prevent accidental deaths. So when I took my brisk (mostly) uphill walk between rain showers and saw a box turtle in the road, I moved it toward a very steep, long bank on the left as I moved up the paved hill toward the unserviced (tent) camping loop.

I watched until it began moving forward again, taking the steep incline at an angle that I felt would be do-able, if a long trek upwards, but certainly what the tortoise had in mind and/or expected (apparently they are creatures of habit in their prowlings). My policy in dealing with turtles in the road is to get them off the pavement, pointed their chosen direction, and leave them be—assuming they know their minds and direction and will carry on moving in a direction away from the dangers of the roadways.

I was on my return march, after circling the first camping loop and the unserviced loop (going both clockwise and counter-clockwise for more exercise time) then back down on the paved road headed back to the lakeside loop. Pausing to see if I could actually see my well-camouflaged tortoise, I peered along the face of the bank and upward to the flat at the top without luck. Nothing seemed to be moving, so I figured the turtle had made it to the brushy verge on its way to some destination known only to itself.

Suddenly, movement caught my eye, and the turtle was pinwheeling back down the steep embankment, head tucked but all four legs stretched out (I assumed) in an effort to grab anything that might stop its speedy, edge-wise roll downward.

At the bottom of the embankment yet further toward the (uphill) entry gate than before, it came to rest at the ditch between the pavement and the bank. With a little effort, it righted itself and began the long climb back up.

This certainly would not do. So I picked it up and carried it up the embankment to the region about where I’d first spotted the pinwheeling movement, then got it over the incline’s lip and onto the narrow flat.

I monitored its progress as the rain began again, until the turtle had made it into the brushy verge separating the path-and-bank from the (empty) camping loop.

Including the box turtle adventure, my hike took ~40 minutes and I covered just over 2 miles—AND I got pretty thoroughly wet. Jack’s day of appointments went well, and he got back to camp around 5P, having left John on deck to feed Flash (the falcon) in our absence. I fixed us an easy pasta and salad dinner, and we turned in with the back (windward) window open so we could close it without getting out of bed if necessary, but the rains appeared to have stopped for good and we slept well.

We awoke on Tuesday, May 4 to the call of loons on the lake, and later saw some floating and diving.

Drove up to the paved road that connects Goose Point to Fairystone, which is a trek of about 2 miles (one way) and is a very nice and hilly trek (mostly downhill outbound, thus mostly uphill on the return). We walked with the dogs from barricade to barricade (no cars are allowed on the road) in a bit over an hour to get about 4 miles under our belts. The mountain laurel was just beginning to bloom.

Having had such a good experience hiking on that barricaded road, we set off on Wednesday, May 5 (Happy Cinco de Mayo) to explore some of the “wildlife management areas” that are part of the larger rec area around Philpott. I had had some luck a few years ago, taking my hawk into such areas to chase squirrels, and had found some unpaved but well-articulated roadways/service roads, and we hoped to find the same in these areas near Goose Point.

Alas, any “roads” we found were short, petering out into meadow-like areas intended for wildlife feeding. Saw a couple of turkeys in the high grasses, but were wary of potential tick infestations, so did not venture far into the first area.

The second sported a mown area around the edge of such a pasture/feeding area, and we walked around the high grass to this view, which was nice.

Returned to the campground without much of a hike under our belts, so I left the dogs and Jack at the site and I powered around the home loop until I saw this beauty sitting in the middle of the pavement:

I used a stick to move it off the pavement (it was at the top of a curve and I thought it would be squashed by a car) and I hoped it would not head into a campsite but go to the shore of the lake. But I didn’t see it again on my second loop.

Lots of holiday-makers set up picnics and swimming activities along what we thought of as our “front yard” between our elevated site and the edge of the designated beach/swimming area. Our next-door neighbors had moored a canoe just outside of the swimming area, in their own “front yard” so we thought it a bit rude to have folks between us and our site when the entire swimming/beach area, with lawn and pavilion only lightly used by others.

But the end of the school year approaches and families too long cooped up in their homes due to Covid-19 certainly need some recreation and relaxation, so who can argue?

Our final sunset on this spring adventure was one for the books, and we returned home on Thursday, May 6, just a short hop up the mountain and back to summer chores and mowing.

Until next time!

Spring 2021-Part 5

Lake Powhatan CG

The overnight into our departure day Friday, April 23 was a rough night for me, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d heard some people react to the #2 vaccine shot. Around 1A I awoke to chills, feeling I had a fever. With the campfire wrap and its hood re-wrapped around me, I dozed, but had to arise to relieve myself of much of that water I’d consumed, and was unable to return to sleep due to shivers and chill (and achey joints and muscles). But once I turned on the propane heater, I was able to return to a doze until around 6A, when I took some aspirin and slept again until about 8.

After breakfast and the final pack-up, we left for Asheville, NC and Lake Powhatan Campground (site 52, Lakeside loop), arriving about 3 hours later. Jack had just erected and staked the Clam when one of the hosts broke the news to us that we had to have everything on the paved pad, which meant the Clam had to be jury-rigged (instead of properly staked down) to resist the wind. J&M also had to relocate their Clam as they’d put it in a lovely yard-like area behind their site that wasn’t near anyone or anything. Too bad the personnel in charge hadn’t mentioned that bit of the rule book upon our arrival.

I faded to listless for the day, just resting and lolling about in recovery mode. But with an early easy dinner and a good night’s sleep, I was fine again by Saturday, April 24.

The forecast overnight rain didn’t develop until 7A and carried on for several hours. Our outside temp sensor needed a charge and we’d misplaced the cord, and there wasn’t enough cell signal to catch the online forecast, but we guessed it was in the high 40s. I walked around in the rain, coursing though the chilly, gray loops to get some exercise, then down to the lake itself to check out what could be seen there, including the “beach” and the dam.

Two sites I’d marked that we might consider for any future stay at Lake Powhatan were #36 in the Bent Creek loop, and #43 in the Lake loop. Both include electric, and look roomier and better arranged than our current site (#52 in the Lakeside loop).

The spring dogwoods, redbuds, and lady slipper were blooming and it was a good lighting day for flower pix.

After a brief rain stoppage, the clouds descended again and it continued raining all night. We did discover, however, that if we walked to the end/beginning of our loop, near the dumpster, we could increase our cell service to 2 bars of LTE, mostly. We ate a simple dinner in front of a movie we’d brought along: Promising Young Woman, which was okay but not great.

The clouds lasted into the morning of Sunday, April 25, with temps in the low 50s, but began to clear off and warm up by 11A. John, Mary, Riley, and I hiked the Pine Tree Trail (about 2 miles) for some exercise.

Fellow Altoistes arrived through the day, including Leslie and Nella (and Nella’s friend), Annie, Karen & Steve, and Bill & Michael. After dinners, most of the group gathered at Karen & Steve’s site for campfire chat and catch-up. Later, Andy & Alison arrived.

Monday, April 26th was Jack’s 71st birthday and to celebrate, I thought to make some pecan/cinnamon rolls in the DO, so I got up quite early to begin the fire chimney and putting together the food, but the temps were so cold I was unable to get the pot hot enough, and the rolls weren’t great. We ate them and Jack appreciated the intention, but I’ll have to try again when I both have better charcoal and when I don t’have to fight the ambient temperatures to make it work.

We pulled out the bikes and rode a pretty “Jeep road” (rough surface) called Bent Creek Road to the North Carolina Arboretum property, and linking with the many trails (mostly hiking trails) that weave around the Arboretum acreage.

North Carolina Arboretum

About the Arboretum: Natural beauty comes in a kaleidoscope of colors every season. Surrounded by the lush folds of the botanically diverse Southern Appalachian Mountains, the Arboretum is adjacent to the scenic Blue Ridge Parkway and is nestled in one of the most spectacular natural settings in American. The 434-acre public garden serves as a living classroom for all ages, offering enriching activities that connect people with plants.

Established in 1986 by the General Assembly as an affiliate of the University of NC, the Arboretum was founded nearly a century after Frederick Law Olmsted the “Father of American Landscape Architecture,” first envisioned such an institution near Asheville as part of his legacy to the Biltmore Estate.

Visitors int he NC Arboretum enjoy an array of experiences as rich and diverse as the land itself. You are at the beginning of Hard Times Road, representing one of more than 10 miles of hiking and biking trails on the property. While here, hike our trails enjoy a stroll through the gardens, and uncover the rich heritage and natural history of our area. The Arboretum offers something for everyone:

65 acres of cultivated gardens
Traveling exhibitions from around the country
Exhibits by regional artist and craftspeople
One of the nation’s mot unique bonsai collections

After studying the map, we climbed a paved road to the Visitor Center to see beautiful flowers and more visitors than we’d expected. Lots of folks wandering through the gardens surrounding the VC, but we had neglected to carry our bike locks, and did not join in.

The birthday dinner was grilled kielbasa with asparagus and fried potatoes, onions, and mushies, and Mary brought a lovely carrot cake with cream cheese icing for a birthday cake. After dinner, we joined the gang around another campfire, everyone sang Happy Birthday, and we had another chin-wag into the evening.

The next day, Tuesday, April 27, Jack and I returned to the Arboretum with locks and had a lovely wander around the gardens—to visit the Arboretum, you paid for parking and some special exhibits inside the VC, but hiking and wandering around the gardens was open to the public. There were a couple of vendors of food and drink, one of which seemed to be a rather fancy sit-down restaurant, but we’d brought water and snacks and did not partake. It was hot and sunny, so we didn’t hang out for terribly long, and a big disappointment was that the bonsai display was not full, since the weather had not turned reliably warm in April, so the potted trees were not out.

There were fascinating sculptures everywhere and I tried to keep track of those with artists mentioned.

Arboretum photos:

We returned to camp fairly early because the locals (Leslie, Bill & Michael) all recommended we have an early (beat the rush) dinner at a fave restaurant of theirs, the White Duck Taco Shop. It was not easy to find, and there was discussion involving the place’s fate when the overpass gets built, but we ate outside, down by the French Broad River, under umbrellas (another hot day) with the wind blowing to keep things from being stifling, and thoroughly enjoyed our meals.

Spring 2021-Part 4

Geo. S. Smith SP, Watsadler CG

At about 8:45A on Friday, April 16, we rolled out of Low Key Hideaway, headed north on our return trip. The expected rain never showed, and our final chore was to empty our gray tank at our full-hookup site.

We drove back roads for 5+ hours to arrive at George S. Smith State Park, near Twin Cities, GA. The temperatures dropped significantly as we headed north, and it was a lovely, laid-back journey.

Rolled into site #20, taking in our first experience of this extraordinarily pretty SP, with huge sites, many right on an enormous (412 acre) lake that looked like a kayaker’s dream: no large boats allowed (10 HP max).

There were plenty of folks fishing from the shore and from canoes & kayaks amongst the cypress trees in the lake.

They have one circular hiking trail (Deer Run Trail) cut into two portions, and to get the kinks out, we took a brisk hike around the smaller section, listed as ~2 miles long.

To start, we had to take a path through the woods, past the canoe and kayak rental area, and across the lake’s dam. Atop the dam is a covered bridge-cum-museum called Mill House Museum, that also housed the flow control for the water in the lake to exit to the downstream channel.

With those add-ons to hike the smaller nature trail, we walked 3.5 miles total.

Elected to have dinner indoors: on either side of us were campers that were somehow connected, most likely related. Our presence interrupted their physical connection and the children especially, had a difficult time adapting to our presence. We ate an easy leftovers meal and cocooned around 9P with temps in the mid-50s and slept with the ceiling fan for white noise.

Experimented with the Pudgie Pie Irons for meals on Saturday, April 17. For lunch, we grilled onions in the pie irons (over the Solo stove campfire) and then used crescent roll pastry to combine the onions with ham and cheese for pocket sandwiches, cooked and melted over the fire. For dinner, after lamb chops, we fixed apple pies with the Pudgie Pie irons for dessert.

In between lunch and dinner, the temperatures rose into the 70s, and we hiked the long circle of the Deer Run Trail, making 4.5 miles, with the walk from our site, across the dam and to the start of the trail (and back).

It would be nice to stay at George S. Smith State Park for a longer stretch, although the bicycling options are quite likely limited. But we headed out on Sunday, April 18 to meet up with John and Mary at Watsadler Campground near Hartwell, Georgia. This Army Corps of Engineers recreation area is on a portion of the enormous Hartwell Lake, which has many access points for recreational activities all around the lake.

Hartwell Lake is one of the southeast’s largest and most popular public recreation lakes. Built by the US ACE between 1955 and 1963, the authorized purposes are flood risk management, water quality, water supply, downstream navigation, hydropower production, fish and wildlife protection, and recreation. Each year millions of people utilize the many public parks, marinas, and campgrounds conveniently located around the lake to pursue a variety of outdoor recreational experiences, making Hartwell one of the most visited Corps lakes in the nation.

Bordering both GA and SC, the lake itself extends 49 miles up the Tugaloo and 45 miles up the Seneca rivers, comprising nearly 56,000 acres of water and 962 miles of shoreline . . . Hartwell Lake’s many recreation areas, rivers, and local communities bear Indian names of the names of the early settlers and pioneers who first inhabited the area.

Watsadler Campground is one example. Early maps of Hart Co. in 1903 and 1928 show a family of Sadlers who lived in what was called Sadler’s Place, near a branch near the Smith McGee Bridge. The branch was named Watsadler, apparently for Wat Sadler, who lived near the branch on the Old Dooley Ferry Rd. Watsadler Campground is located just off the Old Dooley Ferry Rd, which crossed the Savannah River via the Dooley Ferry in the early 1900s.

We arrived somewhat before J&M, landing at about 2PM. Check-in was 3, but site #14 was empty and so we moved right in and did a “Big Setup” since we were staying for 5 nights—that included hammocks, the outdoor kitchen, and the Clam sited on the “lawn.”

A goose family came onshore to graze, including 6 cute goslings. While I watched, the adults began making the strangest alarm call I’d ever heard from a goose (a strangling noise, between a honk and a hiss) and they quickly herded the babes into the water. Shortly, while they continued sounding the alarm, I saw a raptor fly away, out over the water, and they immediately calmed, but stayed in the water. A bit later, they repeated the noises and I identified a red-tailed hawk chased over the water by crows. Once it was gone, the geese came ashore again.

John and Mary rolled in around 6P and we hugged one another for the first time in 18 months!

After dinner we sat around the fire and I used the popcorn popper Mary had given us, cooking it over the fire (2 Tbsp of oil and just under 1/2 c kernels). While we missed real butter and salt on top, the “popcorn salt” was fine and we enjoyed the treat enormously. It reminded me of cooking popcorn in the same sort of box cooker over the den fire when Charlie and Mom first got married, back when I was in high school.

On Monday, April 19, I went to the dentist, to get my crown glued back on (it had popped off on Saturday). Not exactly my idea of a good vacation activity, but the folks at Hartwell Dentistry Associates were very friendly and accommodating and I was in and out within an hour.

Significantly, on the way back from the dentist, I noted a sign out front of the Ingles Grocery Store that said their pharmacy would give Covid vaccinations by appointment. After lunch, we returned to Ingles for provisions and I made an appointment to get my second Moderna shot, for which I was eligible starting April 22. So I made the appointment!

Hartwell’s Ingles store was enormous, clean, and held a wide, beautiful variety of groceries, produce, a butcher and deli, a bakery, and cuisine styles of the world. It was truly a luxurious grocery shopping experience.

J&M hosted us for the evening, and we cooked brats over their Solo stove fire on our campfire forks for dinner.

I had spent yesterday afternoon prepping for making us a breakfast quiche in the 8” Dutch Oven with a “crust” of bread points arranged along the bottom and around the edges. I cooked our breakfast on Tuesday, April 20 and it turned out beautifully (and deliciously).

This was our pre-scheduled evening to go see Dale and Jane, who lived in Hartwell (we’d known Dale from our gatherings in Floyd at Dogtown Roadhouse, and kept in touch after they moved). To make up for getting hardly any exercise yesterday, we took a round-and-round bike ride through the various loops of the CG while John and Mary went for a paddle. Just as they were launching, a kayak with a big dog in the bow paddled past.

John and Mary heading into the lake:

After our loop rides (rinse and repeat) we prepped ourselves and our site to host Dale and Jane for nibbles and drinks before dinner out. The wind had risen and we were all a bit cool, but when D & J came, we sat at the picnic table rather than inside the Clam. After one beer (with J & M also) we left for the Southern Hart Brewery in Hartwell.

Full but not shoulder-to-shoulder, the brewery’s bar and dining tables were in the same large, warehouse-like room as the brewing barrels, and the brewers and assistants were working the brews as we watched. On the recommendation of the brew master, Jack and I ordered their “flagship” brew, called Only A Day—it had good body and was dry-hopped and quite good, but a higher ABV than I usually care for.

Jane and I ordered their “build your own” burger plate while Dale and Jack got their Philly Cheese steak sub dinner. The burgers were excellent, and on a truly beautiful bun.

For “afters” we went to D & J’s home in a great neighborhood, that had been built by a sailor or navy captain and had anchors along the front. Dale and Jane were still unpacking from their recent move, but the feel of the home was comfy and interesting (it had been added onto by owners through the years). Dessert was a lovely pound cake topped with strawberries and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit.

Additional goose families (including the first group—differentiated by the ages and numbers of their progeny) visited our site on the morning of Wednesday, April 21. The goldfinches were also numerous and noisy, having a great time in the nearby trees.

We drove to the huge dam visible from our site to see if the recreation/picnic area surrounding it was worth loading the bikes on the truck to ride around. We could see people walking across the dam from our site, and so we parked to explore the path’s surface and interest. From atop the dam it was easy to see the complexity of the power station below, the Savannah River it feeds (before another dam impounding primarily the Savannah River creates the Richard B Russell Lake) and Rt. 29 highway’s bridge across the river.

The walking path to the gate atop the hydro-production part of the dam was paved and fairly straight, wide enough for both pedestrians and bicycles, and made for nearly a 3-mile round trip. There were no signs indicating the path was pedestrians only, nor that bicycles were prohibited. We saw a bald eagle flying over the wider parts of the lake, and a large island that is quite obviously a goose roost and nesting area (it was quite loud with honks and chatter). By the time we reached the gate, the wind was positively howling across the huge part of the open water above the dam.

The best part of our drive was a quick exploration along a back road that we discovered meets busy Rt 29 just on the Hartwell side of the entrance to Watsadler. We made a plan to ride that back road on our bikes to get to the dam path.

For our Dutch Oven dinner on a rather cool evening, we fixed American Goulash (in the 10” over the Solo stove campfire) and cornbread with scallions, green chiles, and cheese. I used our electric skillet to sauté the meat, etc, for the goulash before heating it for ~1.5 hours (adding the pasta and a bit of extra water about 30 minutes before finish) starting slowly with the pot high on the tripod and lowering it over time.

For the cornbread over coals in the 8” DO, I should have begun earlier, as the wind had a profound affect on the cooking time, and it came out slightly wetter than I’d anticipated when I took it off after 40 minutes, when it could have used 50 or 60 I thought. Shared the meal with J&M and tucked into bed satisfied.

It was good to have our bellies full of a warm, satisfying meal as the temps plummeted overnight (upper 30s) into Thursday, April 22. We stayed warm overnight under the Rumpl blanket, but turned on the heater to warm up in the AM. At least the wind had died overnight.

We began the site break-down early, primarily because I was due to get my #2 Moderna vaccine shot around noon, and didn’t know what I might feel like or be able to do on our departure Friday.

I only waited about 5 minutes after checking in before a nurse came and injected me. I stayed in the pharmacy area for another 10 minutes before being discharged, and I joined Jack, who was wandering around Ingles collecting groceries.

After eating lunch from a fast-food place, we returned to get the bikes out and ride our backroad route to the dam. Put in about 14 miles of good (including 2 tours of the dam path) hard cardio work, especially across the dam in the wind.

Stats:
Temp = 60
Ride time = 1 hr
Distance = 13.85 mi
Average Speed = 13.7 mph

By the end of the day, my arm was beginning to hurt as if it had been deeply bruised, although I was still feeling pretty good. The exercise had not been any kind of worry, and I’d taken one piece of advice regarding the second shot and consumed vast quantities of water during the day.

As the temps dropped and the wind arose, J&M cooked dinner for us all (roast pork loin, mashed potatoes, and salad) which was quite a welcome (and delicious) treat. We opted out of a campfire for an early evening to be ready for departure day.

Spring 2021-Part 3

Low Key Hideaway

Monday, April 12 at North Beach Resort, we walked the dawn beach above St. Augustine, headed north this time, and we covered about 2 miles.

Packed up and left North Beach about 11A headed for another place JB had recommended to us—the only place that did not refund our reservation $ last year when everything shut down because of Covid-19, forcing us to cancel our spring trip (2020). Instead, this place had given us a “good-fer” to use during 2021. It was the spot the farthest south on our itinerary, called The Low Key Hideaway just outside of Cedar Key, FL (near Gainesville on the Gulf side of the state).

I must say, due to all the Plague madness happening in early 2021 in Florida, we had our anxieties about going there at all.

As it turned out, we were SO GLAD we did. This place was definitely unique.

Traffic was such that we had no where to pull off to have lunch, so we had arrived hungry and doubtful. The sites were chock-a-block, and full of BBBs (Big Beige Boxes). Also, the sites sat directly off the highway, which headed straight into the funky town of Cedar Key. Looking west, however, was a tidal marsh that was full of wintering birds and, once a day, pretty gorgeous sunsets.

The Tiki Bar part (full name of the place is Low Key Hideaway and Tiki Bar) did not serve food, so we plopped Roomba into site #4, unhooked the truck and went in search of lunch and some provisions. Cedar Key has a decent quick-stop grocery store, with a deli serving pizza (when open) and Boar’s Head meats and cheeses.

Finished the set-up after eating a good Greek-style pasta salad, and hummus and crackers for lunch (all from the grocery). Low Key Hideaway also has 5 motel rooms, and the RV sites and motel guests all share two toilets and one shower. Of course the BBBs rarely used the facilities, having their own, and taking advantage of each site’s sewer hookup (which we didn’t use until departure).

One notable delight about the facilities (and the walkway to the Tiki Bar) was that the “entry” to the yard area of the motel proper was a trellis on which was blooming some beautiful, sweet-smelling white jasmine. I pause to inhale the aroma every time I walked through, and it was very special.

We decided to check out the Tiki Bar after our late lunch, but there were significant numbers of folks in there and unmasked. Jack, having had both of his Covid shots, fetched a couple of beers for us—good local IPA brews but not not on draft, unfortunately. So we got cans and plastic cups and enjoyed our beverages as the sun began to approach the tidal marsh.

Right behind our site was an elevated deck—intended to be shared by the RV users, so we weren’t supposed to leave our furniture on the one I’d hoped was “ours”—and this was a very nice place to enjoy the sunset. On this first night in FL, we were blessed with a good breeze from the gulf that kept the bugs at bay, but I stayed pretty much slathered in bug dope our entire time there. Mosquitoes were most definitely a plague at this spot.

There were also a pier-and-dock, plus a large yard adjacent to the Tiki Bar for the guests’ use, and seating everywhere for small gatherings, including on the dock, and a bench swing in the RV yard. The Tiki Bar filled up every evening and folks were milling everywhere as each night’s sunset approached.

Our first sunset (7:51P), at low tide over the marsh, at Low Key Hideaway:

After our two Tiki Bar Florida Ales, we had an urgent need for hot dogs, so Jack returned to the grocery for some Boars Head dogs and buns, and we had quite an enjoyable dinner on the deck closest to us, accompanying our dogs with a couple more beers from our own cooler At first uncertain having our own beverages would be allowed, Jack checked with Maureen (owner) and she said it was fine. We were allowed to wander around with our own beverages anywhere we wanted, except into the Tiki Bar itself.

The downside of this place, and what we had expected: No one wore masks—not in the grocery, not in the restaurants, not at the Tiki Bar—NO ONE wore masks in this part of FL. Having had only one of my two vaccinations, I wore mine nearly always, and stayed well away from strangers.

We had slept in with the windows wide open to enjoy the breeze—since the sites had little shade under sparse palm trees, we generally needed the AC during the day, but hoped the nights would be as nice (except for the swarms of mosquitoes) as our first night.

Early on Tuesday, April 13, I took my binoculars out to our tea/coffee spot on the deck and saw MANY very cool birds. As we drank our hot beverages, the tide receded and the daubing birds were having a field day.

A pair of osprey nested nearby, and out in the marsh I spotted:

Roseate spoonbills
White ibis
Green heron
Pelicans galore
Egrets
Gulls

And many “confusing shorebirds” that I couldn’t ID because I didn’t have my guide with me. A special treat was the occasional call of a Bob White quail from the wild area of growth near the road and above the waters of the marsh. We heard it/them on several occasions during our stay at this strange, memorable, tacky place.

Out in the marsh in the center of our view from the deck is a large-ish island covered in scrubby trees that the pelicans have adopted as their roosting spot. I watched 4 of them sunning and a fifth, which had evidently decided it was sunned enough, dove into the water for an ungainly morning bathe, splashing and frolicking for a long time.

The wind died back to nothing by 9:30A and we carried our breakfast into the Clam to avoid the biting bugs. While eating, we watched an army of skinks or lizards (whatever) dancing and inflating their red balloon throats. Whether it’s mating or territorial, I didn’t have a clue, but it was fun to watch. Directly beside the Clam is a palm tree, and there were so many lizards in the trunk (where the fronds once grew and had been cut off) Jack decided it was a lizard condo, with each unit having a “balcony” on which the occupants stood to perform their displays.

We took a couple of local rides, straight out from the campsite and toward the airport, along roads weaving among neighborhoods. We saw an enormous tortoise walking along the road in front of a bungalow, and were able to use the long, straight (flat) drive into the airport for some cardio work. Our tootle reminded us of a trip to FL a few years ago, and made us miss Mark and Angela, fellow Alto trailer owners with whom we enjoy cycling.

After lunch, we took another local ride that took us to a long boardwalk across a finger of the marsh, leading out to a park called Cemetery Point. There weren’t too many people out on a Thursday, and we enjoyed poking about, and noting another osprey nest just off the point in an old snag.

On our return, we called in an order to a restaurant called Steamers, near the harbor in Cedar Key, and ate fried seafood for dinner, sitting on “our” wooden deck. The meal was extra-good and we would highly recommend Steamers—in fact, we ate take-out from there a couple of nights.

After dinner, we had an opportunity to see lots of birds in the marsh as the evening waned and the tide ebbed.

Wednesday, April 14 (Happy Birthday, Mary!) was a morning high tide, so not too many birds to be seen, although it was pretty off “our” deck, as I tracked a hunting egret in the deepening waters.

We drove out from Low Key Hideaway to the Nature Coast State trail. This trail forms a T with several trails interlocking. The “vertical” runs from Chiefland north to slightly beyond Fanning Springs. It was time for us to do laundry and we googled something that looked promising in Fanning Springs.

So we began at the FS trail head and rode ~9 miles to Chiefland, where the Rail Depot had been converted to a pretty park with picnic tables, trail head parking, and Chamber of Commerce/Visitor Info structure. Out back were public toilets to serve all uses.

We ate a snack in the welcome shade, turned around and rode back to Fanning Springs.

Stats:
Temp = 85
Ride Time = 1:15
Distance = 18.5 mi
Average speed = 14.88

Found the laundromat, and Jack got his clothes done, but my machine never filled up with water, even though it went through its cycle, so my clothes remained dry and dirty. Rather than invest an additional couple of hours, we left so we could catch the fresh seafood place next door to Low Key Hideaway before they closed.

Unfortunately, the only fresh seafood they had were clams and oysters, neither of which we had interested. Happily, he had some freshly-frozen salmon that we thawed and Jack grilled it to perfection! We had some leftover go-withs and (as usual) thoroughly enjoyed our meal.

The night in the trailer was quite uncomfortably hot, and some of the biters had managed to get indoors, so I didn’t sleep at all well. Thursday, April 15 dawned still, damp, and thick with humidity.

We drove back to the Nature Coast State trail, to undertake the horizontal part of the T—Cross City to Trenton, west-to-east. But before we got there, we drove through the Lower Suwanee River Reserve, off the main drag north from Cedar Key, thinking it might be a low-traffic cycle opportunity. Saw this tortoise along the roadway—possibly a gopher tortoise?

Indeed, it is a 9-ish mile (one way) “nature drive” of packed limestone through different ecosystems. And while it is shady due to the resident trees, we would bet the farm that it stays close and buggy year-round. Still, it might but a future cycling opportunity.

We parked at the Cross City trail head, out in the industrial section of the community. The paved path starts toward Old Town and for a good 4.5 miles, it is bumpy/lumpy pavement running directly beside Rt. 24/19 with little shade. Happily, the day we rode was slightly overcast, so we didn’t bake. The remainder of the 4.5 miles of the trail to Old Town was better, both pavement-wise and shade/location-wise. We found the OT trail head at about mile 9, hoping for a true rest stop (with toilet) but found none. Across the train trestle, and you have a full 10 miles, but nary a toilet along the entire “top” of the T (20 miles round trip).

Stats:
Temp = 75
Ride Time = 1:30
Distance = 21 mi
Average speed = 14.3 mph

Found another laundromat in Old Town to wash my clothes. This one was slightly nicer than the one in Cross City.

We decided that another Steamer’s dinner was required for our final night at the Low Key Hideaway. Not having to cook allowed us to partially break camp before the expected overnight rains arrived.

And we thoroughly enjoyed our “World Famous” sunset over the tidal marsh of which we had become so fond.

Now, if you’re intrigued by what we experienced, and think managing a VERY! small campground and motel with a crazy bar, you have the opportunity!

Might be worth a call—at least it was available in April of 2021. I’d visit again if you were running Low Key Hideaway . . . .

Spring 2021-Part 1

Lake Wateree SP, Skidaway SP

Because we left Meadows of Dan around 10:30A on Thursday, April 1 in quite a brisk wind (low forties/upper thirties temps) we changed our plan from going down Interstate 77 through Statesville (notoriously windy stretch south of here) to heading down Squirrel Spur and south via Mt. Airy.

Traveling in the Time of Covid: Jack had gotten his second vax shot, and I’d even managed to get the first of my two (Moderna), thus feeling less vulnerable on the road. Still, we endeavored to stay and keep those around us as safe by continuing to mask up and keeping as much distance as reasonable between us and strangers. We left home with the hope that around April 22 or so, I’d be able to obtain access to the #2 Moderna shot somewhere along our travels.

First stop: Lake Wateree State Park in SC, higher on the “River Loop” than when we were here before (site #24) and the ranger said the second bath house had been renovated. Oddly, strange wiring in both the men’s and the women’s meant that when the motion-sensors activated, the full-velocity hand dryers would blow loudly. Jack opined to one of the guys trying to fix the men’s that the problem wasn’t with the units but the wiring. But he came away certain the guy was clueless beyond the fact that the units cost $600 each.

The wind was strong off the very high water. The paved pad on which we were expected to level was quite sloped to the side, so we moved the trailer away from the hookups and toward the severe drop-off of the pavement on the awning side. We also dispatched with setting up the awning as there was zero “front yard” not already taken up by the picnic table (which, to their credit, was brand new and still clean and fresh) and the fire pit.

From this minimal set up we moved straight to dinner (our standard chicken salad) and soon tucked into bed with the furnace fighting back the below-freezing overnight temps.

Friday, April 2 dawned with less wind, but chill temps. The internet told us Meadows of Dan (home) was in the mid-20s, and we hoped house sitter John and the doggies were doing okay with the new mini-split we’d had installed recently.

We waited until 40 degrees before venturing out to walk along the nature trail we’d enjoyed with John and Mary back in December. Since they’d had some obvious and significant flooding, we stopped first at the check-in/tackle shop to see if the trail was even open. They said it was, but there were some wet areas that we could easily go around.

We noticed some very yellow blooms high in several of the trees along the path. They reminded us of the kind of jasmine we had planted in our yard in Houston, and confirmed that it was, in fact, the same fragrant jasmine we remembered when I was able to have a good sniff of flowers on a plant that was growing at eye level, enjoying more sun than those climbing to the tippy-tops of trees.

The water was high, and we noted that one of the small bluffs we’d stood atop with John and Mary in December was this time, not raised above the water at all.

Of course, we traveled during the region’s famous pollen time, and many of the trees sported “Racing Stripes” of yellow “paint” around their trunks.

The Nature Trail’s forest protected from the wind in force near the water, so it was quite a nice walk, and I used my trekking poles to get some extra calorie burn. When Jack headed back to the campsite, I carried on and walked across the causeway to the newer loop recently opened to camping.

This section is definitely more raw and sunny—and at the time I was there, the bath house was still under construction. Individual toilet/showers were being created, but those set up on sites had to be self-contained or drive over to our loop to use the bathrooms.

Later, herds of children moved in and started racing and yelling and fighting all over our loop. Next door a large rig full of an amalgam of families and cousins or step kids, etc., tried to use their scissor-type stabilizers to level their enormous B-3 (Big Brown Box) on a level-challenged site like ours. It wasn’t long before the stabilizer bent and threatened to let everything crash down.

Next to that activity was a group trying to back a large rig, and I know they worked at it for an hour before getting it the way they wanted. Apparently, they didn’t know to leave space enough for the slide-outs on the sides and kept having to move the rig.

Sitting in the waning sun at the back of our camper (protected from the wind) we watched the goings-on all around us. In addition to the B-3 fiascoes, mobs of noisy kids were playing volleyball or losing their gliders in the trees, then breaking up the tree branches in an effort to get them down again. When the sun set and it got cold again, we heated some of Jon Beegle’s pulled pork BBQ and combined with some of Jack’s famous mac-and-cheese (plus a quick salad) had an easy dinner.

We resolved to escape early as possible in the morning, even to forego our morning coffee and tea. Check-in at our next destination (Skidaway State Park near Savannah, GA) was relatively early (1PM). So, we rolled out of Lake Wateree State Park by 7A on Saturday, April 3. Having taken back roads, we finally got some caffeine down our throats near Colombia, SC, and arrived at Skidaway around 1PM, where the high for the day was around 58 (lows in the 40s) and enjoyed a gentle breeze that kept the bright sun from being too hot.

We looked forward to meeting up with fellow Altoiste, Annie, but were unsure which site was hers. While we knew we were all in Campground #4, we headed to our site (#55, which is a pull-through) and took our time setting up for a four-night stay.

We had a choice of two bath houses available to us, one having been renovated more recently than the other. Our loop is close to the start of the Big Ferry Trail (the only one of the 3 or 4 trails on our map that allows bicycles), which runs about 3 miles round-trip out to the marshes and back.

Around 3:30P, Annie rolled in next door in site 54. We decided we’d get together for a campfire after dinner and then Jack and I took a quick “shake down” bike ride around the loops to get our bearings. While the daytime weather was dry and warm-ish, a campfire was comforting as the sun set.

Early on Easter Sunday, April 4, we heard a couple of barred owls talking to one another (and later, Jack actually spotted one, alerted to its presence by a mob of crows). And we had our coffee and tea watching a small herd of deer browse their way along our back “yard” toward the main visitor center.

The sites were very well-spaced, and even though we saw multitudes of people all around the visitor center and along the roads, walking, riding, exercising, etc., there was hardly any noise (except squirrels) and the spacing between sites was, for the most part, generous. With the old live oaks and Spanish moss, plus many other understory trees, there was shade nearly everywhere, and plenty of privacy.

Disappointed that the nearby Publix grocery store was closed for Easter, Jack and I explored the area via car and found a “cart path” leading from the church parking lot nearest the campground entry road over to the Publix shopping area and its backing neighborhood. In the opposite direction from the neighborhood, we found a dead-end road lined with gated communities, straight and flat as a board. It looked very good for potential cycling.

Typically, many rigs departed in the usual Sunday evacuation from campgrounds everywhere. But there were plenty of day-trippers visiting because the weather was quite fine. After lunch, Annie and I walked along one of the hiker-only nature trails for about an hour at a good, exercise-worthy pace. Many folks were also on the narrow trails, though, and I felt like I should have used my mask more frequently, although Annie and I were talking so much it was hard to remember to use a mask.

Afterwards, I began the process of making a Dutch Oven chicken pot pie for all three of us, enjoyed around the Solo stove, on another lovely evening.

On Monday, April 5, Jack and I tried our cycle wheels on the Big Ferry Trail, and it was not as we’d hoped—there were treacherous exposed roots all along the path. Tricky for navigation, sure—but also rough on the hind parts. The most unfortunate aspect, however, was that our eyes were so focused on watching for roots, we missed much of the available views and southern flora of the trail.

We rode from there straight down the roadway to the paved church path and over to our long, straight run past the gated communities. The dead end and lack of commercial enterprise made it an excellent, low-traffic 2-mile (one way) sprinting venue. After the tree-root hell, it was good to stretch our legs.

That afternoon, temperatures hit the seventies (!) and we hopped into the car for our delayed visit to Publix. Both of us had a craving for pizza so we found a non-franchise take-out place and ate in the car. Meanwhile, Annie took her kayak to the marsh (parking at the boat launch and parking area on the Savannah side of the tall causeway bridge). The high for the afternoon was 75 degrees, and we enjoyed our first “shorts weather” day for the season!

Dinner for the two of us was a reprise of the chicken pie (next time we re-heat DO Chicken Pot Pie, it will be thinned with a bit of Half and Half mixed with chicken broth, the leftover crust removed, and over fresh drop biscuits—we tried Grands packaged in the tube, but the Omnia oven is too small for such large biscuits). After dinner, we invited Annie over for another Solo Stove fire for the evening. I got out the pudgy pie irons and we made two fresh blueberry and cream cheese pies and divided them up amongst the three of us for dessert.

Pine tree pollen blanketed everything, including my laptop screen, and my sneezing might wake the dead—such are the joys of a southern springtime.

On our final full day at Skidaway, Tuesday, April 6, we took another cardio ride down our long, straight road, ending in a good sprint. Before the temps rose to 75 degrees, we tootled around the neighborhood behind Publix, and hoped we’d discovered a wifi source in a “public” library—the word is in quotes because Annie disabused us of the public nature of the institution: it is actually open to residents of its neighborhood only.

We drove out to Wormsloe Plantation, a historic site, museum, and visitor area. Since there were lots of trails and structural foundations, we were able to stay outside, for the most part. There was a small museum with a lot of displays and explanations of the whole site’s history and uses—and some of those indoors did not wear masks, making me particularly uncomfortable in the hot, close quarters. We probably wandered outside for an hour or so, but I discovered later that the mosquitoes were stealthy and numerous, and I was a particularly tasty entree on their dinner menu.

After our visit to Wormsloe, we hit Dubberly’s Seafood, on a back road behind a house, where we got some sweet Savannah shrimp to cook on the grill. They were VERY good and if you can find the place, it’s a great fresh seafood source.

Winter Grinch Gathering – South Carolina

December 23, Monday: After celebrating Christmas with family on Dec. 21, we departed Meadows of Dan. We had taken the unprecedented step of draining the water pipes in the log house. We ran one electric heater in the kitchen and one in the water stove/pressure tank building. The weather forecast while we were gone was for mild weather until the week of our return (January 6-12). We were unable to engage a house sitter on short notice, so we bundled the dogs and their gear for the trip (I had previously transferred my red-tailed hawk, Blizzard, to my apprentice for the season, so I was birdless for the first time in 28 years).

We’d arranged to meet John and Mary at Hunting Island State Park in SC to be away for the holidays. We left after my third post-op appointment in Blacksburg and I got the go-ahead from the nursing staff there to leave town.

Our first night was a midway point somewhere between Charlotte and Charleston at a Pilot/Flying J truck stop with a Wendy’s attached. We awoke Christmas Eve morning to lots of holiday lights on both sides of our little trailer, as two enormous semis had scrunched in on either side of us, and they left their running lights on. Since we were running our own furnace, we didn’t hear much of the noise of their arrival or engines—just background to our sleep.

Christmas Eve day: The first thing we noticed about Hunting Island State Park was the standing water everywhere. There had been a storm that dumped 7 inches of rain, and much of the park and the campsites were flooded. It was difficult to even see the paved drives because there was so much water everywhere. While all the “waterfront” sites and the premium areas near the beach were useless (with many folks awaiting the reconnaissance of the park ranger to see what sites they might move into) John and Mary’s and our sites were uphill and mostly dry, back off the beach.

The signage around the park is pretty awful, too, and there is but one dumpster at the exit area of the campground. That’s the only place to throw away doggie poop bags, so we set aside a collection/trash bag onsite, hung from a tree—and periodically disposed of the poop as we hiked around.

Our site, #168 presented us with an interesting uphill slope on which it was difficult to level the camper front-to-back. But the site was large enough to put up a dog run, although we elected not to erect the screen house. While the site offered both elec and water, we remained winterized and so used the electric only.

The really great news about this campground was that all over the park the wifi connectivity was robust. When lots of folks are online, of course, there was a dip in power.

The really bad news was that it was infested with raccoons, and we saw a troupe of them ambling down a tree across the road from us, and into the woods. You cannot leave ANYTHING out for any length of time at all, lest the pests get into it and strew it all about. And, of course, the dogs went crazy when they spotted the beasties (there was also a ton of squirrels, but they were at least not so invasive).

Before dinner and to learn our way around, we took the dogs for a walk along the main road to where John pointed out a long-legged waterbird wading in the creek nearby.

We strolled over the dune and to the beach—en route, in the looser sand of the dune area, the sand burrs were prolific, and all the dogs picked up the spiny devils in their paws. Riley had an especially bad go of it, as his fur is long. Removal was as hazardous to the human as pick up was to the canine.

The tide was out and we had a nice stroll along the beach (no sand burrs there).

Mary and John (and Riley) had set up several sites along from us, and Christmas Eve evening, we went to their site to share leftover lasagne, which Mary had made to take to John C’s down in NC for a meeting. It was delicious.

Christmas Day: We awoke to see 7 of Santa’s 10 (rein)deer out our front window, taking their leisure after a hard night delivering gifts to the world’s children.

While we had hoped there would be the option for a seafood Christmas Dinner, with the rains and long drives to get here, none of us was able to get into town to obtain shrimp or whatever.

We did take a drive out to the Visitors Center, and walked along the beach amongst what the locals call “The Bone Yard.” This strip of shoreline had made the news a short time before we arrived, as the state decided to bulldoze some section of the beach (not where we were) for safety.

To access the area we crossed a bridge over shallow water (since the tide was out). Under the bridge, we saw a wading waterbird that offered a pretty neat reflection photo op.

The Bone Yard was a section of shifting sands in which the carcasses of trees figure prominently in the landscape. Some were freshly drowned, others had been there long enough to have become bleached or bark-stripped. It was an amazing sight, and I took lots of photos. We also saw a very small horseshoe crab shell and a starfish. We really loved that part of the walk.

Our Christmas Dinner was Chorizo/Kale soup with Jack’s special bread, and J n M ate with us at our site. We enjoyed a bonfire and exchanged gifts.

Many, many people bring their dogs here to camp, and one of those Mary had met before we’d arrived stopped in during our bonfire hour and said, “I hate to be a bearer of bad news, but you’re Mary, right? Over at your site the raccoons are getting into your trash and coolers and making a mess. You might want to go back and interrupt them before they do real damage.”

Up they jumped and were able to save everything except some grapes stored in a cooler. They had quite a mess of garbage to clean up, though. Bloody raccoons!

December 26th (Thursday): Shortly after arising and using the bath house, a water main was either shut off or damaged during the staff’s management of the floodwaters. No fresh water anywhere in the campground.

The State Park offered many walking trails through neat mixed woods (palmettos and long-leaf pine) and we found some rudimentary maps around and about. John wanted to try one of the forest trails that would end up at the lighthouse.

We were almost stymied by an enormous pool right in the middle of the trail, not terribly far along the walk, but we managed to bushwhack around it.

The second, deeper and wider pool, however, confounded us. We could see no real manageable way to bushwhack around with the dogs (and the ticks were out, too) so we turned around and walked back to the car, parked at an access point off the main road.

So we drove to the lighthouse instead. Once there, first on our agenda was to use their restrooms.

Upon our return, we lounged a while and Jack roasted some game hens on the grill while I fixed some roasted winter vegetables in our Dutch Oven as John prepared some hassle-back potatoes in his DO. Delicious meal, and another campfire (solo stove).

December 27th (Friday): With another camper we had met (she also had a dog and camped nearer the waterfront in a conversion van) named Donna, we headed into town for fresh seafood, lunch, and a visit to the grocery store.

Back when my parents lived on Lady’s Island (nearer Beaufort than Hunting Is.) we frequently visited a little place along the main road called The Shrimp Shack. You order at the window and try to find a place to sit either inside or out. The place was still open, some 20 years after my parents had moved away.

Naturally, their shrimp was the best (I had a “shrimpburger” which is like a crab cake sandwich, only with shrimp instead of crab). But anything you order at the window is bound to be delicious.

Across the road is a fresh seafood place with shrimp boats moored alongside (another throwback to when my parents lived there, still in operation) and that’s where we got fresh shrimp to skewer and cook on the grill.

After our grocery stop, I took a lovely walk with the dogs as the shadows grew long at the beach. Saw some neat sand patterns, too.

December 28th (Saturday): Fellow Alto owners, Hope and Elaine joined us in the campground coincidentally—with their two beagles. Their 2114 was “perched on an anthill” in a different section of the campground, elevated quite high above the road (and still-pooled rainwaters).

We walked with them and Donna and her standard poodle along the beach all the way to the lighthouse. The tide was going out on our way to the lighthouse, so we had limited choices to get there. But the sand was wide and firm on our return to the campground. Elaine found several sharks’ teeth in the sand and we all looked for shells and more teeth on our way back to the campground. But she was the lucky one.

We all brought our own leftovers to J n M’s site just as the rain began to pour in the evening. We crammed ourselves under the awning, and for the most part, stayed moderately dry. It was fun spending more time with Hope and Elaine, whom I’d met for the first time this past October at the Watauga Dam informal Altogather.

Soon after we’d finished our meals, the rain abated somewhat, and we all called it a night. Mary, John, and we were all set to leave in the AM, while Hope and Elaine were staying additional time at Hunting Island SP. J n M had a long drive all the way home, and we were headed more northeasterly to Carolina Beach SP, near Wilmington, NC.

Chippokes Plantation Campground, April 5 & 6

One last thing I forgot to mention as a big “pro” on the plus side of our Bike Florida Tour: Oranges.

All the rest stops had them in abundance, and they were cherry red, sweet, and O! so refreshing. So good, in fact, that we stopped at a roadside stand before leaving FL and bought a sack full. Yum.

So we said goodbye to FL and headed to SC. Travel was unremarkable, thank goodness. But I did capture this pic of Angela and their Alto2114 traveling along ahead of us at one point.

So Lynches River Campground was our overnight spot on Thursday, April 4, and that’s the campground that is mostly for tenters, with only 2 serviced RV sites. Mark and Angela got #2 (a pull-through) and we got #1 both with electric and water. The bathhouse was rustic to say the least, but it had exactly two private rooms, each with its own toilet, sink, and shower. For a one-night stayover, it was just perfect. Next stop: Chippokes Plantation Campground near Williamsburg, VA, April 5 and 6.

Chippokes is actually in Surry, VA, and is a re-purposed grand farm and mansion, once an actual plantation. Today, it is quite a fine and spiffy Virginia State Park, with hiking trails, the mansion itself, equestrian trails, electric and water, and nice renovated bathhouses. Loop B has the most modernized and level campsites, where Loop A has older, less flat/improved sites.

We linked up with John and Mary at Chippokes, so we had three side-by-side sites with Mark and Angela. Roomba was in the middle, on site #2.

Mark and Angela’s son, Brent, linked up with them (and us), coming down from New York to see his parents while they were relatively close. He spent some of our arrival/set up day in Williamsburg and he and Mary and John all arrived around 5PM.

We all went out to dinner, hoping to catch the pub in Smithfield, but there was a minimum of an hour’s wait there, so off we went to Smithfield Landing where we had a delightful dinner, and all got to know one another a bit better. The walk through Smithfield from the pub to the Landing and then back to our cars after dinner was fun times together also.

The next day, Mark, Angela, and Brent headed to Jamestown, while Mary, John, Jack, and I headed across the ferry into Williamsburg. But first, we went to the Edwards Ham store and picked up some good old fashioned Virginia Ham products. Yum.

We rode the Pocahontas ferry and saw a smaller ferry passing across the river. It was overcast the day we headed into Billsburg, but it never rained despite the look of the sky.

We had a bit of a drive around the campus, telling J&M tales of our college days, and had a quite nice sandwich from Colonial Williamsburg’s famous Cheese Shop.

That night, we all fixed our own dinners but joined up to eat at our site. We had shared appetizers and a fire to cozy up to as our final night together after our fun travels with Mark and Angela. Brent also was headed back north the next day, while John, Mary, Jack, and I were headed to Janes Island, MD for our next, longest stop of our Spring Trip.

Before everyone broke apart, I set up the timer on my camera to get a group shot. And Riley also had to have some fun before we bundled off to Maryland.

Cycling And Rain

July 21-22

Rains came overnight while we were at The Pinery, but it was spit-and-stop for a while, so we took down the bikes anyway and headed to the “long ride” that we’d driven last night to get to the sunset beach. Much of the trail was bike-only, through the pine savannah and appropriately named the Savanna Trail.

It was both on- and off-road, with at least 12 km along a little-used (badly paved) one-way loop road. The non-paved lengths were mostly packed sand for a really lovely multi-use path. We started getting thoroughly wet as we found the Visitors Center, and took some shelter in there, looking at the kid-friendly displays (it was a great center to initiate “citizen scientist” interest in the younger set).

I found that most of the “leaflets three leave them be” plants around the sites (and through which we had to high-step to get to the shared pedestal for power) are NOT in fact, poison oak. There is, however, lots of bona-fide poison oak and ivy interspersed amongst these taller, woody-stemmed bushes.

Which turned out to be “fragrant sumac” (rhus aromatica) described as a harmless cousin to poison ivy. The info at the Center said that the bush grows where sand dunes have stabilized, has aromatic foliage and bright red berries, and is the most common shrub in the oak savanna. Fragrant sumac grows up to 5 ft. tall and is food and shelter for countless birds, mammals, and insects. I took a couple of photos of the two plants, both found around our campsite:

Poison Oak. Note the longer stem on the center leaf, holding it apart from the other two leaves.

Fragrant Sumac

The rain became more insistent as we waited, so we retired with our bikes to a nice little gazebo next to the VC, and played on their wifi for a while, checking emails etc.

Then we just had to go on. The rain let up a little, but as we rode, it got heavier and just as I was about to ask Jack to carry my camera, it abated a bit.

Still, you’re going to be as wet as you’ll ever get within the first half-hour of riding in the rain, so we carried on, and scooped the long paved loop to and along the beach parking areas (but we could not see any water from our vantage, as the dunes are substantial between the road and Lake Huron).

Just where the one-way road ended (near the end of the beach access points) the Savana trail headed off-road into the woodsy area, and what a great ride that was. We were nearly the only ones out in the drizzle, so we really pushed the speed along the trail, and hit some rollers that were truly fun and exciting to alternately fly down and push up, keeping our speed pretty steady, but still getting a great workout. It was like bicycling along a roller-coaster track.

The rain finally stopped and we got back to the campsite hoping that by hanging our wet gear (including gloves and shoes) in the screen house, at least some of it would get dry.

Bike Stats:

Ride time = 54 minutes
Stopped time = 1:10
Distance = 10.5
Average speed = 11.6MPH

Then Jack put a “potlatch” dry rub on the salmon steaks we’d bought in town on Friday, the 20th, and we grilled it up, with asparagus and mushies, and heated up half of the remaining frozen mac-n-cheese from our HALS party. Yum! And Jack dug out the Solo Stove from the truck and we had a lovely fire during and after our meal.

The rain chased us under the awning a few times, but let up enough for us to thoroughly enjoy the beautiful fire.

Unfortunately, the rain kicked into high gear after we cleaned up from dinner, and kept up through the night and into the 22nd, and really swamped the area. Where a gentle, intermittent rain was able to soak into the sand pretty readily, the steady downpour we experienced created vast lakes of puddles, especially in front of the bathhouse (which, by the way, had too few toilets, showers, and sinks — at least in the women’s side — to accommodate all the adults and kids swarming the place). That also made the campground quite loud, overall, with many screeching and wailing children. Of course, it was a weekend, so I guess we should have expected that.

So we tucked in during Sunday the 22nd. I took some time to ready the backlog of blog uploads, and we went up to the Visitor Center again to take advantage of their robust wifi, and hung out there for a long while.

Returned to Roomba to crank up our next movie: Dunkirk. It was really good, although somewhat confusing in terms of the time frame because the 3 stories that come together in the end are not told chronologically. But once we caught onto the actors playing each major role in each of the three separate stories, it became more clear. But among the focal points near where all the stories intersected was a British mine sweeper that gets bombed by a German bomber, so we had to watch that happen several times, which was not pleasant, but was a bit of a triumph when the stories merged. I’d definitely recommend it, and I might even see it again, knowing now what I was unsure of then.

Our “goodbye Canada” meal was another grill meal. On the same shopping trip on Friday, we’d found turkey thighs—unfrozen, farm-raised, and fresh—and Jack put a bit of Bicentennial Rub (Penzies) on them, and they were delicious!

Every November, we think we need to eat more turkey, but in the states (at least in VA), if it’s not October or November, you cannot find un-frozen turkey—much less turkey pieces.

So this was a real treat and super easy and yummy. I actually think I liked the turkey more than the salmon (but don’t tell Jack I said so).

We had another campfire in our super Solo Stove, and headed to bed as the embers glowed red.

One final note: Before we left The Pinery, some locals said we HAD TO VISIT a place called Tobermory, north of The Pinery, on the Bruce Peninsula. I place that here with the hope that a reader or two, heading that way might schedule it; and also so we won’t forget, because we will be back in that area again in the future.

Upcoming International Trip

I’m sort of jumping the gun here, because we’re not gone yet.

Still, I worry that our international access to the internet might be spotty at best, and since I’m doing my own research for background in prep for departure, I figured I’d check into one of our stops along the way.

I share this now because, as we tell friends about our trip, we note that we’re going to a World Heritage Site called Cesky Krumlov in the Czech Republic. Everyone asks what and where that is, but I haven’t been able to answer, because I have failed to do my normal background work to date.

So here it is, from the Ckrumlov.info city info site, and Wikipedia.

Český Krumlov is a small city in the South Bohemian Region of the Czech Republic where Český Krumlov Castle is located. Old Český Krumlov is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and was given this status along with the historic Prague castle district.

The city name begins with Český (Czech) to differentiate it from Moravský Krumlov in South Moravia.

Construction of the town and castle began around 1240 by the Vítkovci at a ford in the Vltava River, an important trade route in Bohemia. According to local legend, the name derives from the German “Krumme Aue” which can be translated as “crooked meadow.”
In 1302 the town and castle were acquired by the House of Rosenberg. The majority of inhabitants were German at that time. By 1336, Czechs formed a small minority. In late 15th century, when gold was found next to the town, German miners came to settle, which shifted the ethnic balance even more.
Emperors Rudolf II (1602) and Ferdinand II (later) bought Krumlov, and he gave it to the House of Eggenberg which established the town as the set of the Duchy of Krumlov. From 1719 until 1945 the castle belonged to the House of Schwarzenberg.
Most of the architecture of the old town and castle dates from the 14th through 17th centuries; the town’s structures are mostly in Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque styles. The core of the old town is within a horseshoe bend of the river, with the old Latrán neighborhood and castle on the other side of the Vltava.
There were 8,662 inhabitants in Krummau an der Moldau (as called by the Germans) in 1910, including 7,367 Germans and 1,295 Czechs.
After the First World War, the city was part of the Bohemian Forest Region, which was initially declared to be part of German-Austria. By the end of 1918 the Czechoslovak army had occupied the region, which became part of Czechoslovakia. In 1938 it was annexed by Nazi Germany, as part of the Reichsgau Oberdonau unit of Sudetenland under the Munich agreement. After World War II the town’s longstanding German-speaking population was expelled and it was returned to Czechoslovakia.
During the Communist era of Czechoslovakia, historic Krumlov fell into disrepair, but since the Velvet Revolution of 1989 much of the town’s former beauty has been restored, and it is now a major holiday destination, with high numbers of tourists from Europe and Asian. In August 2002, the town suffered from damage in a great flood of the Vltava River.
Český Krumlov Castle is unusually large for a town of its size; within the Czech Republic it is second in extent only to the Hradčany castle complex of Prague. Inside its grounds are a large rococo garden, an extensive bridge over a deep gap in the rock upon which the castle is built, and the castle itself, which in turn consists of many defined parts dating from different periods. After the garden had been inadequately maintained in the second half of the 20th century, the site was included in the 1996 World Monuments Watch by the World Monuments Fund. With financial support from American Express the garden’s central fountain was documented and reconstructed, and remains functional today.

The Church of St. Vitus (Kostel Sv. Víta) is a Gothic church inside the Castle, dating architecturally to the 15th century, with frescoes from the same period.
Český Krumlov Castle preserves its Baroque theatre, built in 1680–82 under Prince Johann Christian I von Eggenberg and renovated with up-to-date stage equipment under Josef Adam zu Schwarzenberg (1765–66). It is one of few such court theaters to retain its original stage machinery, scenery and props.
Due to its age, the theater is only used three times a year (only twice open to the public), when a Baroque opera is performed in simulated candlelight. Visitors can take a guided tour beneath the stage to catch a glimpse of the wood-and-rope apparatus that allowed stage settings to be moved in and out at the same time as the audience was diverted with fireworks and smoke.
The castle’s last private owner was Adolph Schwarzenberg. It was here that he received President Edvard Beneš and gave him a large contribution for the defense of Czechoslovakia against the growing threat of Nazi Germany. His property was seized by the Gestapo in 1940 and then confiscated by the Czechoslovak government in 1945.
Krumlov has a museum dedicated to the painter Egon Schiele, who lived in the town.

Panorama of the town from the gardens of the castle.

About 10 kilometers (6 miles) from Krumlov is one of Bohemia’s oldest monasteries, Zlatá Koruna (“The Golden Crown”). About 30 km (19 mi) from Krumlov is the Hluboka Castle, established in the twelfth century and later remodelled in imitation of Windsor Castle.
Krumlov is close to the Šumava National Park, the Czech Republic’s largest national park. The Šumava mountains lie along the border with Austria and Germany and offer a range of natural habitats – peat bogs, Alpine meadows, old-growth forest, lakes, and rivers. The area is popular with walkers, cyclists, and Vltava canoeists. Cesky Krumlov is a short distance from the man-made Lake Lipno, on which many people take boat trips to various small towns and to the dam, with its Hydro power plant.

Český Krumlov is home to the Pivovar Eggenberg brewery. It has been used for locations in movies such as The Illusionist (2006) and Hostel (2005), as well as the 1973 German movie Traumstadt (Dream City).

So. That’s what we have to look forward to on Days 3 and 4 of our cycling tour. I hope Eggenberg brewery beer will figure in our sampling of the area’s treasures. Oddly and fun in addition, we’re staying at a hotel called the Peregrin on a quiet street off the main square. AND we’re signed up for a guided tour of the central town, on our first evening there. Definitely looking forward to it.

Cycling Lake Vesuvius, Wayne National Forest, OH

Thursday, August 3

Today was all about cycle training as much as possible given what the campground offers. But we also found some “culture” to inform us.

We were definitely going to ride to the beach again. But our friendly hostess recommended a “stone house” that she said was at the boat launch area of Lake Vesuvius (opposite direction from the beach) along a paved walk. This entire area has been all about iron ore mining and smelting for many many decades, until better ore and better shipping lanes were found in Pittsburgh. The limestone-cum-iron ore geology makes for these steep cuts in the ground from waterways and runoff, and at one point, the “miners” didn’t have to even dig a mine, but just chip the ore off exposed deposits.

Through the steady wearing-away by water through eons grew this rock house—or really, a tall cave—which is evidently a common structure in iron-rich regions. Our informative sign indicated that there were probably employees of the Vesuvius Iron Furnace (down at the bottom of the Rec Area drive, off that route 29 we did not want to pedal) who would come to this rock house to extract coal from the seam at the back of this open cave, so they could heat their homes.

The way down to the boat launch and rock house was steeper and possibly longer than the downhill side toward the beach. We rode down and parked the bikes while I walked along the “boardwalk” at one side of this finger of the Lake, and grabbed a few photos. Then we rode back to see the rock house, and then climbed back up the hill.

After catching our breath, we rode down to the beach again. This time, there were peeps there, readying to picnic and watch the kiddies swim. Back at the tops, we did a few more loops trying to get our mileage up to 10 miles. It was a great workout.

Private showers are simply the bees knees. It felt very good to shower (I took my time and luxuriated a bit), and we had a lunch of chicken salad and crackers, then grapes and carrots to fill out the belly. As we were continuing to relax after lunch, a good little thunderstorm came through just to keep us honest. We had to haul everything back under the awning again, and we had quite some rocking and rolling from the storm gods fighting with each other, but luckily, no wind.

Later we tried to begin to get ready for departure on the morrow with a bit of packing, but the storm kept rolling in and out and over and yon, so we mostly kept inside. Dinner: spinach pie redux. Next stop will be back in Virginia, to Grindstone campground, one of our fave spots, near the Creeper Trail between Damascus and Abingdon. We’ll definitely be un-hitching there to ride the Creeper if the weather will cooperate.

We got to bed early with a plan to arise early, and after tea/coffee, eat somewhere on the way (and grab some wifi to catch up on emails etc). It was mapped to be a very long day of driving to Grindstone.

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