The Off Season

An Unfinished blog I wrote in December 2012 while on Holiday in Cape San Blas.

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We're on a road trip. Going "down" the country in the off season.

We headed south the day after Thanksgiving, hitting Mammoth Cave NP (where we bought a National Park Passport because we are that geeky and because it's our sixth national park in six months!), rented a lovely room in an old house in old Birmingham, and then hit the Selma to Montgomery Freedom Trail NP (more on that later when I've had enough time to properly reflect), and finally settled on Florida's Forgotten Coast. We're on an isolated peninsula called Cape San Blas, surrounded by state parks, estuaries, rivers, salt marshes, and national wildlife refuges in the panhandle about sixty miles east of the eyesore known as Panama City.

We rented a sweet little house on stilts, nothing fancy, nice big balcony with ceiling fans and comfy furniture overlooking the bay in the front, plenty of windows, stocked kitchen, and just a few hundred steps out the back door from the sugar white beach of the Gulf of Mexico. We're surrounded by lush tropical sand pines and palmetto palm trees, and about nine miles down the road from one of the most beautiful and underrated beaches in the world--St. Joseph Peninsula State Park.

There might be twenty other people on this peninsula right now, but I get the feeling that it never feels crowded even in the height of tourist season. Some people call this "Old Florida" or "Real Florida." No attractions here except the stunning landscape. No water parks, IMAX theaters, outlet malls, chain restaurants, or high rise hotels. I never knew such a place existed in Florida!

I rented a bike and have been riding ~15 miles per day. It's one of those "backward-braking" bikes, no gears, upright handle bars, big tractor seat. I bit dust my first time on it, not accustomed to the brakes. I hit some sand and the handlebars slipped and I wracked my knee into them. I got up, rubbed some dirt in the open wound, and got back on, blood flowing down my leg. When the sun is shining and I've got exploring to do, a little blood doesn't stop the show. Several days later, it is still aching, and I'm wondering if I should take it easy, but it just doesn't seem likely!

I brought my dog, and we've been walking the shores morning, noon, and night. Between the beach walks and trails, I'm doing about nine miles per day on foot. My dog loves the ocean, especially in the morning when there are "fresh deaddies"--newly spewed dead crabs and jellyfish on the shore--for his disgusting smells' delight.

It could be a little warmer, but with a bit of a draft comes wide empty beaches and no traffic and a feeling that the island is one's own. As I stare at the vast empty beach I keep thinking of a book I loved as a child--"Island of the Blue Dolphins," by Scott Dell, which was a fictionalized account of a young girl who was shipwrecked alone on an island off the coast of California sometime in the 1700s.

I've never vacationed in mild temperatures, and it's taking some adjustments. The truth is I felt off the first few days I was here. We recently went to Death Valley where the temps hit 125 everyday and cooled down to just 110 at night. In short, we're used to sweating on vacation, and we've needed long sleeved tees or sweatshirts everyday here. I was surprised by how hard it was for me to relax at first. I kept thinking, "I wish it were warmer." (It's ranged from 65-72.)