March 25 – 29, 2011 We head down the keys...

It is 126 miles from Florida City to Key West, mostly on Hwy 1 with one lane in each direction and a paint stripe separating the traffic.  And Floridians are not shy about passing into oncoming traffic.

It is a series of keys or islands connected by bridges, the longest bridge being 7 miles.

Historically these islands were connected only by boat until Henry Flagler completed his railway in 1912, using a special German concrete that would harden under water. In the 1930s a hurricane put the railway out of business and killed over 400 people.  The state got the old railbed and by1939 a very narrow auto road was built on the remains, the track refashioned as guardrails. This road was replaced by the current one in 1982, but it remains in discontinuous sections, sometimes not touching land at either end. Some sections that touch land have been refurbished for recreation – fishing, walking, and bicycling.

One of many bridges.

A small mangrove.

Sunshine Key RV Park - we pay a lot less but the rack rate is around $90 in season.

After Florida City Al has become very cautious about promising anything with regards to campground service, and advises us to dump our tanks before hitting the road. We take our chances and go loaded, and arrive at the Sunshine Key RV Resort on Big Pine Key about 2PM, passing the time on an earlier key with lunch and a game of joker with Mike, Jane, John and Elain – guys won. We also win at Sunshine Key, both in a second round of Joker and in having full 3-point hook-ups. That evening Jane and Mike prepare a great pork roast and we go to bed satisfied.

March 26, 2011 We ride the Whale to Key West…

Sleep is rather uneven. The daytime temperature is probably now in the low 80s but nighttime never falls out of the 70s, and it is mildly humid. There is a steady breeze to provide cooling outdoors, and our fans keep the air moving inside the trailer. No need yet for air conditioning.

Early the next morning we ride 39 miles to Key West in the Whale, traveling with John and Elain, and Mike and Jane. The early start is because Al has arranged an 8 AM trolley tour of Key West, with on-and-off privileges for today and tomorrow.

Nice Key West architecture.

Tom contemplates a fence with hearts and wine bottles intertwined.

Key West is a wonderful place in many ways but this is unfortunately known by far too many people. It isn’t so much that the town is crowded this time of year, although it is; the problem is more one of too many costly attractions, and too many distractions from finding the town’s essence.

We get off the trolley near Mallory Square, roughly half way through the tour. This area is a mix of beautiful historic buildings, such as the old customs house (standard US design, including steep roof so snow will slide off) and waterside warehouses converted into tourist stores. There are also rustic looking modern constructions fronted with fiberglass larger-than-life statues of unnamed Key West characters. One houses a tall platform that would be great for an overview but you must pay an entrance fee to their “museum” for access.

Instead, faced with such bounty of choices, we pay $12+ each to go to Mel Fisher’s treasure museum and store. Somebody once made off with a large piece of gold so we must enter with hats off to be photographed. Displayed are gold, silver, and copper items recovered mostly in the 1980s from Spanish wrecks off Florida dating to the 1600s. Fisher also found an old slaver and displays shackles from that recovery. At the store you can purchase recovered items (old coins, encrusted iron, jewelry made from recovered items) paying anywhere from hundreds to many thousands of dollars. There is also an “investor relations” office if you wish to fund his (actually, he is now dead) continuing treasure hunts. Fisher’s operation employs archeologists but the profession doesn’t much like Fisher’s methods.

Yes, the artist is also the art.

We move on but I’m unwilling to apply the enthusiasm necessary to convince my pod to spend $9 each for the museum in the nearby customs house, although I recall it was pretty good. While the pod is milling about trying to decide its next step, I quickly visit the customs house gift shop and buy an interesting looking book on Flagler, and view some interesting sculptures nearby.

Hemmingway's house.

Count 'em.

Rejoining the pod, we walk to the Little White House on an old Coast Guard base, a favorite of Truman and also enjoyed by a number of other presidents. Tours are once hourly so we decide first to go the lunch at Blue Heaven, a popular place maybe a half-mile off. Of course, they won’t even consider seating us for over an hour so we leave our name and walk on to the old Hemingway house. This is another $12 each and is interesting, although we mostly self-guide as the tour guide is not very good. We do learn, however, that there are over 40 cats on the premises, descended from the six-toed cats Hemingway originally had as pets.

Photo by Bob Vasser

Returning to the Blue Heaven we wait an additional hour before eventually being served by a smart maybe 26-year-old Ukrainian. This is quite a detour in a young life. We don’t know the whole story but she received a law degree in the Ukraine and married a Nicaraguan. Not clear on how she ended up in Key West cheerfully waiting tables, or what happened to the Nicaraguan. She is sharp and tends our table well.

Truman relaxing at the Little White House.

Tourists in line to be photographed at the southernmost point  in the continental  US.

The southernmost idiot in the continental US.

He is no better from the backside.

We finally catch the very good $12/each tour of the Little White House (no inside photos allowed) and walk some more to grab our trolley for the second half of the tour. John hops off at our morning starting point to recover his car and bring it closer to Mallory Point where we plan to finish the evening, and the rest of us get off for photos at the monument celebrating the southern most point in the continental US, only 90 miles from Cuba.

Just ignore us.

Henry Flagler is the one with the green nose.

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Later, back in Mallory Square, we are exhausted but determined to wait the hour-and-a-half until sunset, as they are reputed to be beautiful and we are told the people in the square do crazy things. Trying to even things out a bit with John and Elain, Mike and I buy ice cream and lemonade and wine coolers for the group; we add in a plate of conch fritters, since none of us has sampled conch, a local favorite. This, inevitably, doesn’t have the intended purpose as we learn John is allergic to shellfish and Elain just isn’t in the mood. I think I ended up eating 3 of the 7 fritters, which were again, okay.

As for people doing crazy things at sunset, I can report only that a couple chose to have their wedding at sunset on Mallory Square. This was a mistake on many levels, as everyone had to wear sunglasses and squint, and two party boats came nosily by just as they were reciting their vows. Meanwhile, in the crowded square, people were entertained by people, with hats out, juggling or doing acrobatic tricks. Rather like the Pier 39 area or Ghirardelli Square in San Francisco. (Later, someone in our campground tells us that in late April, when most of the tourists have left, the town develops a little more of a personality not based so much on the dollar. Races down Duval Street on bed frames, transvestites, etc. Again, San Francisco.)

After a walk to the car John drives us the 35 miles back to our campground key, Marcia mentioning that she can hear a funny rattle. Early the next morning I go outside and find John in overalls under his Suburban looking for the rattle, which turns out to be a loosening connection on a shock absorber.

March 27, 2011 A day at leisure in the keys…

Several trucks of us converge on Crazydays for lunch on a key just north of our campground. Marcia and I share a very good macadamia nut grouper sandwich.

Donna, Jane, Pat and Marcia enjoy the gulf.

Art, Harold, Ed, Susan and Mike.

The ladies from the old bridge.

In the afternoon we ride with Mike and Jane a very short distance south to Bahia Honda State Park, a nice stretch of white sandy beach. Donna and Harold found the place so there are many familiar faces as we pull in. Art loans me his rented facemask but in a swim over my head on the gulf side I see nothing living except grass on the bottom, and the water is cool. I walk barefoot the maybe 100 yards (as the crow flies, not the feet walk) to the Atlantic side and find the water warmer and shallow, no waves at all (the beach is probably facing south). I walk out until the water becomes darker and begin swimming on my back, but soon think better of it as I imagine bumping into a Portuguese Man-o-War; as I turn around my feet hit the bottom, and I realize this water is still only three feet deep, with lot of grass. I see people standing easily 75 yards out from me. Forget it.

Marcia and Denise drove this old road in 1972 on their famous trip around the US.

The state later added the water pipe at the abandoned track level and the road at the top.

A section of the old road from the new road.

In this section the old road looks odder.

Later Mike and I explore the old bridge.

March 28, 2011 We visit the Pigeon Key work camp…

Gracie, Harold, Gary and Larry on the trip to Pigeon Key.

Photo taken by Kathy Warren.

64 workers bunked here during railway construction.

The less skilled workers lived in tents.

Entertaining myself while waiting for the DVD on building the railroad.

Today we take a short boat ride to Pigeon Key, which was an old work camp for the building of the railway; later it became a toll collection site for the road. A small museum and slim sun-damaged docent from the Netherlands tell us probably more than we all really want to know about Flagler and the railway, but very interesting. Interesting fact: at the time Flagler proposed extending the railway through the keys to Key West, Key West was the largest city in Florida.

Mike is looking for a CB antenna so we stop at two Radio Shacks, each of which has a neighboring Beall’s Outlet. Mike gets nothing and the guys come away with $13 shirts.

For lunch we head off in the Whale for the No Name Bar on Deer Key for great pizza and atmosphere. This place has been here since the ‘30s when it featured an upstairs brothel, like all places of historic interest. Today dollar bills are stapled to virtually every inch of the walls and ceilings, enough so to give a fire captain nightmares. (We understand the owner tried to donate the bills during the 9-11 crisis but a local bank stepped in and donated twice the amount on the condition the owner left the bills in place.)

After a couple games of Joker that night under our awning we prepare for sleep. The forecast is 40% chance of thundershowers but I can see stars and things seem calm. I bring in our chairs just in case.

Not more than 45 minutes later we are reading in bed and Marcia asks me why the trailer moved. I give her one of those you’re crazy looks when suddenly we hear noise and feel movement. I dash to the door and look out and it is blowing hard and very humid. The wind is whipping my awning enough to cause the trailer to shake.

I throw on some pants and start retracting my awning in darkness lit by occasional flashes of lightening, but it sticks. I make several attempts trying to find the problem. Marcia emerges from the trailer and I have her hold the awning strap while I investigate, and finally get it to retract, although not completely. I then notice a retainers claw has broken, for the third time since we’ve had the trailer. With rain beginning to fall we retreat to the trailer and drown out the sound of the rain with the white noise of our air conditioner, not sleeping well but sleeping.