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2/22   We spent the next two days preparing for our canoe trip, and then spent 8 days paddling a leisurely 70 mile loop through Everglades National Park. The canoe trip is reported in a separate document.

3/2   Arrived back from the canoe trip about noon. We had left the truck and trailer hitched together, parked on the grass at the Ranger Station where we launched the canoe. So it only took a few minutes to throw our gear in the truck, tie on canoe on the roof, and drive across the road to Glen Haven RV Park. This isn't much of an RV Park - appearing to be a low-cost mobile home park which is renting campsites to transients while waiting to sell the sites to permanent residents. But it is convenient and even has a view of the bay, across many acres of grassy lawn maintained by the National Park service on the other side of the road.

For the rest of the day, and the next day, we did laundry, washed the salt off the tent, spread gear out to dry, and then put it away. We also found plenty of time to search the guidebooks to identify remembered flora and fauna, and simply to relax and rest sore muscles.

3/4   Drove up the coast to Indian Creek Park RV Resort, an expensive and not particularly interesting place (but our first two choices in the area were full when we called - it's still Spring Break time). This location was convenient to Sanibel Island and to the home of Bob & Judith Brownell, just north of Naples. Bob and Judith are Internet friends who started full-timing about the same time we did, and whom we've been wanting to meet for three years. They stopped traveling and settled in Naples, and we're finally in the area.

3/5   We drove down to Naples and had a long conversation-filled brunch with the Brownells at their lovely home in a beautifully landscaped condominium community.

Later in the afternoon, Helen headed off to Sanibel. If you are disappointed with the reduction in shells on the beaches on Sanibel Island these last few years, visit the Bailey-Matthews Shell Museum. This small museum is packed with well labeled cases of interesting shells. Besides the rare-find shells from around the world, there are displays of commonly available shells that will knock your eyes out. The case with Cuban tree snails was just gorgeous. Enjoy the 5' giant clam found deep in the oceans near sulfuric steam vents and the display of shells used as money.

3/7   We moved back up to Bradenton, to the same RV Park as last month. While walking around the park periphery, I found access to a tiny tidal channel which appeared to meander across the tidal flats out to the Manatee River. During our stay here, we put the canoe in the water and explored our way out to the river, and then upstream for several miles. The river is shallow and braided, often splitting into several indistinguishable channels. There are small mangroves growing along the water's edge (surprising, this far north), and they appear to be spreading - more evidence of global warming? The scenery quickly made a transition from suburban to rural. We passed an expensive gated community of big fancy homes, some with docks extending hundreds of feet out across the shallow water. Further upstream we passed a golf course, still under construction. From there on, most of the shoreline was either low swampy woodland or cow pasture.

During the Everglades canoe trip, Helen had collected a huge bag of seashells, and sister-in-law Betty graciously spent a day helping clean and sort them. There were so many shells that Betty's largest pot was filled and boiled five times. Helen had taken only dead shells, so the process was pretty clean. The examination, sorting, and bleaching took time, but was lots of fun. Betty kept finding shells that she deemed inferior and tossing them into the Manatee River that bordered the patio we were working on. Helen accused her of salting her own waterfront, and then Helen found and tossed more, herself. And Helen is delighted with the several hundred shells she has remaining.

For the record, almost all the shells were collected on Hog, Turkey, and Pavilion Keys from the intertidal area. There were very few shells on the other campsites. Many live shells could easily have been taken by knee deep wading, but they would have started decaying and smelling long before we got back to the trailer. (Know the best place for finding shells? In garbage cans at rest stops at the Florida-Georgia border. That is how far the tourists get before the odor of uncleaned shells becomes unbearable and the they get dumped.)

All three keys had pretty much the same shells. I took many Florida Crown Conch with dark and light bands and spires, Florida Fighting Conch with pink and mahogany interiors, Lightning Whelk with chocolate lined knobs, Van Hyning's and Prickly Cockles with lovely pink interiors, Broad-ribbed Cardita with brown markings and Cross-barred Venus with purple interiors. A nice selection of other, less numerous shells found included murex, pear whelk, banded tulip, moon shells, slipper shells, olives, scallops, jingle shells, pink tellin, yellow lucines, and sunrays. One treasure is a chalk-white fragment of the delicate and beautifully shaped Angel Wing. Massive clams and oysters were most abundant and I pretty much ignored them. I took only samples less than 3", skipping the massive giant whelks that were easily available.

Another quick trip to Mixon Farms for tree ripened citrus fruit and orange ice cream cones, and then a home cooked meal of pork and sauerkraut with dumplings rounded out a real nice day with Betty.

3/8   While in the Everglades, both Dave and Helen developed dental problems which needed fairly prompt attention. We were reluctant to take our chances with unknown dentists in the small towns to the south, so as soon as we arrived in Bradenton, we asked Betty for a recommendation. Her own dentist was booked solid, and doesn't do oral surgery anyway, but recommended a few others. With this chain of referrals, we had appointments scheduled for the next day after we called and the problems were solved relatively easily.

3/11   We took a long but scenic drive up to St. Petersburg and then to Tampa. Spent much of the afternoon at the St. Petersburg Museum of Fine Art enjoying their large collections and special exhibits. Saw Stone Age tools, modern floral arrangements, and everything in-between. A special exhibition of Croatian Naïve Art struck us as primitive at first, but as we walked through it, it grew on us. The brilliant colors and sharp edges have a Rousseau Jungle Print look, but with delightful details. Stag Wedding Party, 1959 by Ivan Generalic and his 1959 Woodcutters show a love of the land that is special. Don't miss it if it comes to your local museum.

A collection of Steuben Glass was in its own specially lighted room, mostly brilliant spotlights in cases lined with black velvet. The 1970 work titled Ferdinand Magellan, by Lloyd Arkins with tiny ships going up a fjord with ice bergs and towering cliffs was stunning, as were two works by James Houston, Arctic Fisherman with a silver spear half in the water, and the Elephants of Kilimanjaro.

We then walked the waterfront in St. Petersburg. At the end of The Pier (a long attractive pier with a restaurant and collection of tourist shops at the outer end), a vendor was selling buckets of small fish to tourists, who stood on a raised platform, protected behind a railing, and fed fish to a large flock of comical brown pelicans. An occasional pelican would sneak around to the back of the platform, climb the stairs, and try to steal a fish out of the bucket. On the way through Tampa, we stopped briefly at the University of Tampa to see the strange but interesting Moorish-influenced architecture of the main buildings.

Coincidentally, our friends Leon and Ginger Smith, whom we hadn't seen for almost three years, were driving across Florida. We had arranged, via numerous Email and cell phone messages, to coordinate our schedules and meet for dinner. We searched for restaurants near their motel in the AAA Map'n'Go software, and picked Fat Willie's Fish Camp, a few miles out in the country to the southeast in the (almost nonexistent) town of Valrico. It turned out to be a good choice - the seafood was very good, and the restaurant was not crowded, so we were able to sit and enjoy several hours of talk.

3/12   On the road again - back to Orlando for another visit with our relatives. We took the long slow route, just for a bit of different scenery. We took SR 64 east from Bradenton for 63 miles to US 27, then north on US 27 to I-4, staying on I-4 for the last 35 miles of dense traffic across the Orlando metro area.

Much of the country along this route is agricultural - an interesting mix of vegetables, cattle, and citrus groves. The land is gently rolling, higher and dryer than most of the rest of the Florida peninsula. Lakes are frequent, set off attractively by the green hills. Along the way, we stopped to look at the Escapees Co-op RV Park at Zolfo Springs. It's a large modern facility, with spacious RV sites. Many of the site owners have added permanent buildings - some with innovative ways to combine an RV and a permanent building into single large home. When the site owners are absent, their sites are available for short-term occupancy by traveling Escapee members. Surprisingly, at what we thought would be a busy season, they had a dozen or so sites available. There is a many-year waiting list to purchase sites. Too bad we weren't ready to stop for the night - it's an attractive place.

Even in the middle of this route, far from big cities, the explosive population growth of Florida is obvious. We frequently saw residential developments - at all economic levels. We saw large gated communities, beautifully landscaped, mostly hidden from the highway, often including golf courses and private lakes. At the other extreme, we saw numerous mobile home or trailer parks, homes densely packed onto tiny lots, often poorly maintained and shabby, some with rutted sand tracks rather than paved roads. Between these extremes were new developments of many small, neat cookie-cutter bungalows. These looked stark and sterile. It appears that after people buy these homes, they have little or no money or energy left over to do landscaping.

At Lake Wales, we stopped to see Bok Tower Gardens. Edward Bok is one of the classic American rags-to-riches stories - raised in a poor immigrant family, starting his career as an office boy at Western Union, and eventually becoming publisher and editor of Ladies Home Journal, where he apparently made quite a lot of money and didn't spend much of it.

He was at the forefront of many liberal causes, including women's suffrage. I saw no mention of a wife or children (perhaps one reason why he accumulated so much money). Late in life, he acquired a large tract of land on Iron Mountain (the highest point on the Florida Peninsula) and commissioned Frederick Law Olmsted, Jr. (America's most famous landscape architect) to create a "sanctuary for birds and people". Later, he commissioned a carillon tower to be a "visual and aural centerpiece for the garden", again hiring distinguished architects and artisans. Apparently, this all was intended from the beginning to be a public garden, presented to the people of the United States as "a gift of gratitude". I saw no mention that he ever built a home here or even lived in the area.

The result is stunning. The tower is one of the most attractive architectural creations I've seen. The garden is indeed a pleasing and quiet sanctuary. Shaded paths lead through tasteful plantings under large oak and pine trees. We were there at the peak bloom of the extensive plantings of azaleas. In other seasons, camellias would dominate. Large Australian and Tasmanian tree ferns add an exotic touch. Around the south side of the tower, a large open grassy meadow, dotted with mature live oaks, provides an eye-stretching contrast to the more enclosed forest paths. Park benches are placed in the shade of the trees, providing a place to sit and listen to the afternoon carillon concerts.

As to the carillon itself: I've no doubt that it's a fine instrument and that the distinguished carillonneur lived up to his reputation in playing the concert I heard. But carillon music just doesn't appeal to me - the instrument is limited in scope; mechanical limitations force ponderous tempos; the inherently anharmonic bells often sound sour and discordant when played in chords.

3/15   While getting ready to leave Orlando, we heard a fragment of an announcement of an interesting-sounding concert on the local public radio station, I spent quite a while searching the newspapers and the Web, and found no mention of the concert or the group. I finally figured out which church it was at and was able to get a few details by calling the church. So we stayed over an extra day, and attended a concert by the Orlando XIII, a 14-voice (despite the name) a cappella chamber choir which touts itself as "Central Florida's premiere vocal ensemble". It was fortuitous that we even found out about this event - there seemed to be little or no advertising for either the ensemble or the event.

It was a lovely concert - a competent group of "professional and semi-professional" singers, with a well-blended sound. The group was founded in 1994. In a just a few places, they sounded a bit under-rehearsed - either not quite together or not singing with well-shaped phrasing. Peter Matthews, the Artistic Director, also sings Alto with the group - conducting only for entrances, cutoffs, and transitions. This didn't always work well - and I'm not sure it can ever work well for a group this large which rehearses only once a week. Much of the first portion of the concert used organ and was sung from the rear balcony, where the organ was located - probably leading to sore necks among some of the audience as they twisted around to see what was going on behind them.

The music was a pleasing blend of old and new, familiar and unfamiliar. The old was represented by three of the less-familiar motets of William Byrd. The new included a Missa Brevis by Peter Mathews. The familiar included Copeland's monumental "In the Beginning" - a setting of the first portion of Genesis which I sang with Madrigalia a few years ago. The unfamiliar included three interesting motets by Pierre Villette (1926-1998) - a French composer of whom I had never heard. The concert was free, although offering plates were passed at a break, with the proceeds supporting the church's concert series. The event was held on a Tuesday evening (unusual) at the Cathedral Church of St. Luke, in downtown Orlando. The church is a medium-sized traditional English Cathedral design incorporating stucco walls, with limestone pillars soaring up to high ceilings of dark-stained wood supported by exposed wood beams. The acoustics were excellent for this type of music.

3/15   Our three days in Orlando have been spent quietly - visiting Helen's brother and sister-in-law, relaxing, and catching up on errands and chores. We got on the road again this morning, heading vaguely north and west. Perhaps we'll spend another few days on the Gulf beaches along the Florida Panhandle.

The drive up US 41 and then SR 44 was pleasantly rural (we saw a large roadside billboard advertising 10% off on Angus cattle), through rolling lake country, mostly on relatively smooth, uncrowded 4-lane (not limited access) highway. But then we turned onto Interstate 75, which was very crowded - often two lanes of big trucks with a third lane of high speed autos, who amused themselves by weaving in and out among the trucks at 80 mph trying to gain a few car lengths. No big problem for us - we just stayed in the right lane and matched the speed of the slower trucks - but this kind of road certainly takes the enjoyment out of driving.

After turning west on Interstate 10, the traffic density immediately dropped. The population density also dropped. This section if I-10, across the Florida Panhandle, is rural and attractive. The hills are bigger and the forests are healthier, of more diverse species, and more continuous than further south. Last time we were through here, a long stretch of road east of Tallahassee had the famous I-10 uneven expansion joints - a rather unpleasant jolting ride. They've been repaving, and there are now only a few short sections of the uneven pavement remaining. West of Tallahassee, the road is still the old surface, with expansion joints, but they've attempted to grind down the bumps and it's fairly acceptable - at least in our rig.

We turned south on SR 12, about 30 miles west of Tallahassee, and followed SR 12, SR 20 and then US 231 southwest toward Panama City. Most of this route was narrow two-lane highway through very sparsely populated country. We saw mostly tree farms, although we passed two large tomato processing facilities, suggesting that there must be a lot of good farm land somewhere back there in the forest.

We had rain, sometimes heavy, and an overcast, lowering, sky for the entire trip. But after weeks of sun, this was almost a relief, and the trip was enjoyable. We saw plenty of lightning along the way, but somehow managed to avoid the high winds, severe thunderstorms, and waterspouts that were reported in the area we drove through. A lot of water fell during the day, perhaps partially relieving the 3-year-long drought in this area.

Panama City is better forgotten (see comments in earlier reports). But when we drove through here before, we had investigated places to stay along the Gulf beaches, and had been impressed with St. Andrews State Recreation Area, which spans a spit of land between the Gulf and a large bay a few miles southwest of Panama City. We had been unable to get reservations for the campground, but were told that 10% of the sites are held for first-come-first-serve assignment to drive-ins. There are several other acceptable RV Parks in the area, and significant numbers of snowbirds are already heading north, so we took a chance, arrived without reservations, and got one of the last of the first-come-first-serve sites. It's a big site, in a shady pine grove not directly on the Gulf, but with an excellent and unobstructed view to the north over Grand Lagoon. We’re paying $20.84/day for a water/electric site without sewers - one of the most expensive state parks we've seen.

Just before sundown, the western sky cleared and we were treated to a nice red sunset as we stood on a dune on the Gulf side, just above the big waves stirred up by the high south winds during the day.

3/17   In the morning, Helen took a little tour boat/shuttle across the channel to Shell Island - a long, narrow uninhabited barrier key just west of us, which is supposed to have good shelling. Perhaps the storm brought in a new crop of shells. It's a lovely day to be lazy. More rain is in the forecast, but so far, it's sunny, a light breeze off the water, temperature about 75. Dave relaxed at the trailer, and occasionally worked at shortening the long list of waiting tasks.

The shuttle boat to Shell Island had a laid-back crew, but nobody seemed to care. It left from a dock in the park for the short trip across the channel to the island, then simply ran its pontoons up on the beach to disgorge a bunch of tourists. The previous day's storm left big waves still pounding the beach on the Gulf side, and lots of shells. But 99% of the shells on the beach were broken and collecting out in the water was impossible as the swirling surf obscured the bottom. As I worked my way south along this 7 mile island, the shells got bigger and better, and I realized the right place to shell was at the southern tip. But I wasn't about to walk that far on sand, so I relaxed and poked along the high tide line.

This is the first beach I've been at where scallops (like the Shell Oil Company logo) were abundant, and I took delight in them. I found many fragments of the glossy Scotch Bonnet, but no whole specimens. Somehow, I used up the day and left to catch the last scheduled shuttle back. There were too many college kids on spring break for one trip, so the boat filled up, said it would be back, reversed its engines, and didn't move. The nearly empty shuttle had run up on the beach easily, but when full it couldn't easily get free, so the college kids waiting for the next trip pushed us off.

I had just gotten back to the trailer and washed the sand off my feet, happy with my new finds but tired and sore from constant stooping, when Dave came back from his hike with new information about what was in the lagoon. He took me there are I spent another hour looking for more shells. The crown conch shells there had different 'crowns' than the ones in the Everglades and I wanted a few specimens. The little hermit crabs also liked these shells. I evicted a few without a twinge of conscience.

3/18   Today's drive from Panama City to Perdido Key (near Pensacola) was fairly short in miles, but long in hours. It was entirely along SR 98, slow going along a mostly two-lane road with heavy tourist traffic. We've done much of it before, so it seemed somewhat tedious. We called Big Lagoon State Park and the Ft. Pickens Area Campground (in the National Seashore). Both had filled their reservation quota every night for the next three weeks. They keep 10% of the sites for people who show up without reservations - but said there was usually a waiting line first thing in the morning. So we chose All Star RV Park, on Perdido Key. It's expensive, but is on the beach and has permanently enabled telephone jacks at each site.

We called Internet friend Mike Hendrix when we arrived, and were soon on our way to have a long pleasant conversation (and, incidentally, a good dinner) with Mike and Joyce at Barnhill's buffet restaurant. Two days later, Mike put together a gathering for Pensacola-area RV-Club members Ron & Dana Biggerstaff and Vince & Sue Cadora and us to meet Dick and Geri Campagna (also RV-Club members, recently retired, almost full-time RVers, who are based in New Jersey and happened to be traveling through this area.) We went back to Barnhill's, which had abundant and cheap food and proved convenient for a long group dinner. Both times, we talked for several hours.

3/22   Much of our time in the past several days has been spent planning for our Alaska trip this summer. We will be meeting friends who will fly to Anchorage and spend two weeks traveling with us. As a result, we need to nail down dates for at least that portion of the summer. It's hard, because the rendezvous is 6000 miles and almost three months away, and we'd normally cover most of that distance with little scheduling - looking only a day or two ahead and letting the weather and the local attractions determine when we moved on.

Tomorrow, we'll leave Florida, first going a short distance west to spend a day or two near Mobile, Alabama, and then heading north - planning to remain mostly near the eastern edge of the Central Time Zone all the way up to Winnipeg, Manitoba before turning west toward Alaska. We'll take our time, drifting north along with the spring flowers, so that we should arrive in Winnipeg about the same time as the good weather gets there.