Thursday, January 30, 2014

Hey, I found one!

Deftly hidden in a text message to my sister, another photo from the Naples Chalk Art Fest.

Seven Miles in Heaven



This what the Overseas Highway is all about. When it was built, this span connecting Marathon to  Little Duck Key was one of the longest bridges in existence, although the new bridge is only 6.79 miles long. Once a railroad bridge, the original structure was converted into an automobile highway, and now a pedestrian/bike path that runs right alongside the shiny new road to the south. Because it would be expensive to maintain the whole thing, and probably for other political, economic, and engineering reasons of which I'm unaware, there's only 2 miles of walkable bridge branching off the Marathon side and heading southwest. The drive is inevitable if you're heading west of Marathon, or if you miss your turn for the Sunset Grille and Raw Bar. The walk is worth the stop. With a light breeze and only the sound of cars in the highway, boats on the water, and calm chatter of passers by, this was one of my favorite walks to date. And if you're really up for it, at the end of the 2 miles you can descend a ramp to historic Pigeon Key and look at some buildings and probably some artifacts from times when boats were the only way to island hop around here. 

Love locks on the guard rail of the pedestrian bridge. Only a few of the old railroad ties used to make the guard rails had holes in them, and they all had locks attached.


Modern locks


Antique locks


Pigeon Key, I rename you Pelican Key.
Pelican in flight just north of the pedway. No magnification; this guy was only a few yards away. And there were several pelicans gliding the same way throughout my hike: about eye level, west to east, and straight alongside the bridge. Must have been something about the airflow around the bridge. I only saw one pelican going the other direction, and she was also just north of the bridge.

A building on Pigeon Key as seen from the walkway. I think it was the Paint Foreman's House.

End of the line.





Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Bahia Honda State Park: Sun, Sand, Shallows, and Snorkling


This is the beach at Bahia Honda State Park. You don't even have to swim to enjoy it because the water is so shallow, and the shallows stretch out for many yards. The tide level doesn't even matter because this sandy shelf of an underwater beach is so large. Perfect for kids, dogs, ocean kayaks, and novice snorkelers. Twenty years ago, at this very beach, my dad taught me how to snorkel. Now, snorkeling is one of my top priorities when I visit tropical oceans with even a little bit of reef action. And the Gulf waters around Bahia Honda are some of the clearest I've seen, right up to the shore.


For a reasonable price, and probably cheaper than the touristy outfits, you can take a snorkeling trip right from the park. They rent equipment (actually, you have to buy the snorkel for sanitary reasons), provide the catamaran, and have two certified divemasters as Captain and Mate. While they won't get in the water with you, they are great at helping you identify fish, and warning you about hazards like moon jellies. That's right; those little bastards can sting. Given the choice, swimming by a barracuda or nurse shark is safer than swimming by a moon jelly that is sometimes tough to see and subject to the currents. Fortunately, they're very slow-moving and pretty easy to avoid if you're paying attention. And  baby moon jellies are cute. And it was cool to see them in the wild where I could observe them from different angles.

The tour takes you 12 miles out to Looue Key Reef, named after an island that is now submerged. And 90 minutes is plenty of time to see all kinds of fish. Schools of barracuda, some black and white stripey fish with bright yellow accents, French Angelfish, Nassau Grouper, really colorful parrot fish, and bunches of other plain and brightly colored fish tucked in close to the coral. Most noticeable on the reef was the purple fan coral. Oh yeah, and the Goliath Grouper chilling underneath our boat. The tiny 80 pound Goliath Grouper. "Just a pre-teen," the captain assured us. Apparently the grow up to be much, much bigger. 

I stayed in the water for the full 90, and of course when they called me in, I was suddenly faced with a minefield of moon jellies. A little patience and good timing, and I joined the others on the boat. The water was 72 degrees F, and I think some folks became a little chilled. The park does rent half-wetsuits, but I found that an hour and a half was just enough time for me with one. I just wish I'd brought a sweatshirt for the ride home.


Cruisin' the 1


Not to be confused with California Route 1, U.S. Highway 1 will take you all the way to mile marker Zero on Key West, if you let it. The Overseas Highway, as it's called once you leave the mainland, is not a highway for the claustrophobic driver (unless you're looking for some exposure therapy) or for the driver or passenger who cannot handle bridges. It is a highway for a convertible (which, sadly, I did not rent due to budget constraints).  And it is also a highway for the most beautiful pure blue ocean driving under the sun. Watch the speed limits as they change frequently based on population, road conditions, endangerd wildlife habitat ("Speed Kills Key Deer"), and whether it's night time. And make cruise control your friend, especially on the bridges. Or don't, and get some Autobahn-style driving in and risk crashing into the concrete barriers just to your right and left. With the ocean surrounding you on the bridges, it's easy to lose perspective and find your foot setting a speed of 80. And did I mention slowing down for Key Deer? Yeah, do it. Because they're endangered, they're tiny, and I totally saw a male Key Deer grazing right next to the road on the outskirts of one of the towns. And apparently there's special Keys marshbunnies around too, so watch out!

Highway 1 on my way back from the Keys. Yep, I drove off the islands and right into a rainstorm.

Driving on the Seven Mile Bridge toward Marathon.

My ride. Chevy Cruse. Not sassy enough to deserve a name. Which is good, because I'm not really a car-namer.

Heaters Fired Up!


When I travel, I use several resources to find local places to eat and drink: Locals, Trip Advisor, and Yelp! The majority of reviews are pretty accurate, in my experience, and sometimes even a disgruntled review will send you somewhere because it can't really be that bad, can it? Much to my dismay, the latest reviews of Salty's Waterfront Grille, which had a promising name for this shrimp hunter, were breaking news. "Burned down at 3am this morning," one review announced earlier in January. Sadness. Didn't appear to be arson or a kitchen fire... Wonder if it had anything to do with the patio heaters. Seriously, people - buy a sweatshirt. Grandfathered past the current building code and immune from statutes requiring sprinklers and an alarm system, they're lucky that no one was injured.

Total loss.

Apparently some boats in the adjacent 7 Mile Marina were destroyed by proximity fires started by falling embers. The pelicans don't seem to mind this ghost town of piers.

Sunset Grille and Raw Bar

Sunset on the northeast side of the 7-Mile Bridge

Sunsets are always a big deal when there's ocean involved. Even more so when you're on vacation. My affinity for capturing sunsets on film (ha! What an anachronism!) is well-known. And even though I swear that I've already seen the best sunset in the world at Ía, Santorini, Greece, I always rush to a good viewing spot when the time comes, especially when there's ocean involved. On the south side of Highway 1, just before the 7-Mile bridge, The Sunset Grille and Raw Bar is probably the most popular place on Marathon to watch the sun slip into the water. You don't have to be seated inside; there's space on the shore by the parking lot. I was almost late in arriving due to a frustrating, unplanned detour (seriously, if you miss your turn before the bridge, there's no way to redeem yourself. You're stuck going all the way over before you can turn around). I had to park a ways down the road, and ended up too late to see the sunset with cocktail in hand, as I'd planned. But I think I ended up with a better view. And they certainly weren't running our of cocktails here. 

Almost gone...

Post-sunset calm

About the venue: The Sunset Grille and Raw bar is something more than a restaurant with outdoor seating, and something slightly less than an "experience". It has an outdoor pool open to its guests, poolside seating, an indoor bar, an outdoor bar, a projection TV set up at one edge of the pool, and great sunset views, of course. Also, they have music. In this case, it was a guy singing Jimmy Buffet covers, of course. And if you've ever wanted to hear any song sung in a Buffet-esque style, this guy's your guy. "Every Breath You Take" (The Police) or "Sixth Avenue Heartache" (The Wallflowers), anyone?

Oh, and there's this. I think it's just seasonal, but maybe it's a year-round feature.


After the sunset, it was a lot easier to find a seat, and I plunked down at the Tiki hut-looking outdoor bar next to the pool. Shrimp, of course, local raw oysters, and a fruity drink called a Tiki Parrot. And then some oddball inside-out roll off their sushi menu that involved tempura shrimp, mango, and Thai sweet chili sauce. They had more authentic offerings on their large sushi menu, but I'm pretty skeptical about sushi from places I don't know or that aren't in California. Weird, I know. But I'll eat oysters pretty much anywhere next to an ocean.

I would have plated this with the sauce underneath so that you could see the pretty inside of the roll. And so would any of my sushi chef friends at home. It was reasonably tasty.


These are the Beaches in your Neighborhood

I understand why most visitors to the Keys search for lodging on a beachfront or near a state park with considerable public beach space; they're looking for postcard-perfect settings. But all over the Keys, you can find little, public, neighborhood beaches sparsely populated with locals and folks who don't mind making a last-minute turn off the highway and squeezing into a tiny parking lot. There's sun, sand, and ocean. And sometimes local puppies playing fetch. I don't really need much more than that.

Coco Plum Beach

Am I supposed to bring this to you? You look like you want a wet tennis ball.

P.S. - and if you're really lucky, you'll see an old man in a turquoise G-string. And you'll see him get into his car without even donning some shorts. Sorry I didn't get a picture of that.

Murals on Marathon


It's easy to fly by all the brightly colored buildings as you try not to rear end anyone in the inconsistently paced traffic that is the Overseas Highway. After all, most buildings are painted pink, purple, blue, yellow... as you'll often see in tropical places. But it is worth taking your time on Marathon because there's so many buildings with original murals by local artists. Buildings throughout the Keys have signs or murals painted on them, but I noticed that Marathon in particular supported this beautiful street art. I won't tell you where all of these paintings are, partly because there's fun in finding them yourself, and partly because I didn't remember to jot that information down. Do be careful slowing, stopping, and making quick U-turns to spot these things. And don't be afraid to fly past one and pull a U-ey to go back. If there's one driving adage in Florida, it's never underestimate the power of a U-turn.


A closer look at part of the previous mural that was hidden by the dumpster. Cute! 



Many of the buildings with murals housed dive shops or fish-related businesses (seafood shops, fishing tours, etc.)

Trucks look good with a mural. This is a local Mahi-Mahi fish. Locals call it "dolphin", which can be confusing and traumatic to small children when they see "Dolphin Bites" on a menu. Don't worry, kids; Flipper is not for eating.

Even the big box stores dress up their massive expanse of concrete wall. I wish they did this everywhere.

This is a dive shop on Key Largo, not Marathon. But it's the only building I saw with all four walls painted in a single mural.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

The Great White Way: 5th Avenue South at Night

The perfect time and place for strolling around Naples with ice cream in hand.

Shoppers, diners, and strollers out after dark on 5th Ave.

Trees were lit up on their trunks and in their canopies by strings and balls of white lights.

Looking toward 5th Ave from the entrance to The Sugden Community Theatre.

(Driftwood) Lovers' Key State Park Beach


Also a good hike at Lovers' Key State Park: the beach. 2.5 miles in total, beautiful sand, funny shore birds tritcombersut (like sandpipers and plover), and really cool driftwood (although I'm not sure you still call it driftwood if the tree's still in the ground). And if you're really lucky, you might just run into a fashion photo shoot.

Sandpipers really like this spot of the beach.

These guys were doing a catalogue shoot for this newish footwear line spun off by a former founder/partner in the Crocs company. They're... something.

My dad and I suspect that this (and several other trees) was decorated around Christmas time. It's neat that beach combers have left them just so.

And then the driftwood forest. I plan to edit some of these when I am home to render them in black and white. Haven't seen driftwood this cool since a beach I visited in Costa Rica several years ago.