Road Trippin'

 

 A boardwalk across Duck Slough on the Florida Trail in Kissimmee Prairie Preserve

Oh goodness, are we looking forward to being amidst spikey air plants and fan-like palm fronds, where Spanish moss tickles your head and live oak leaves crunch underfoot, where creeks are called sloughs and rivers are black, and tangerines gone wild dangle from tree limbs. That's right, good 'ol Florida. It's been too long. In fact, it has been a solid two years since we last visited. Covid concerns stymied any hopes of our escaping the Northeastern winter last year. And covid is still here, looks like it may be for good. Therefore, we may as well carry on (with cautionary measures of course). 

I will be honest; we don't have much of a plan. I am a planner, but Scott, well, he's not. Toss his influence into a whole sack of unknowns - when the next snowstorm is, where the temps will be warm enough to comfortably backpack but not too hot to blanket the trail in ticks, the very real possibility that one of us could fall ill - and I'm all ready to roll with the punches. At least that's my goal and what will happen whether I like it or not. And you know what I've learned, too, over the years of hiking? That sometimes plans can get in the way of the good stuff, the spontaneous, the unexpected that can be so much more fulfilling than what you had planned in the first place. But despite this lack of plans - we've got a li'l framework of what we'd like to do.

Scott in Big Cypress Preserve on the Florida Trail

For the month of February, we're taking the pop-up and our coonhound, Amos and headin' south - that much is for certain - and hope to go deep south, like as far south as one can go in mainland Florida. There's a campground near Flamingo, FL - kind of perfect for us considering our homestead has long been called Flamingo Estates - in the Everglades National Park. And there is no way we are passing up the Florida Trail through Big Cypress Preserve. Now, it is highly doubtful that I will get Scott out on the watery trail, when there's no required thru-hiking miles, but we both agreed it would be mighty cool to explore its drier portions again and also the portion of the trail that is south of Alligator Alley, that used to serve as the Florida Trail's first miles. 

Meeting our first skunk ape at Skunk Ape Headquarters

And you can't hike through Big Cypress without stopping in at Skunk Ape Headquarters. Visit this place for a schoolin' in all things skunk ape. Hey, we may even stay the night - there is a campground there that the Florida Trail uses for its annual Kick-Off gathering every year that is said to be quite nice. We'll just make sure to keep some lima beans nearby - allegedly those appease a hungry skunk ape, well, that and deer liver, which I refuse to keep handy. I have never explored the National Park, nor traveled southward beyond Big Cypress, so there will be much to discover. Somehow, too, traveling 1,300 miles from home, seems certain to guarantee an adventure of some sort.

At the start of the Blackwater Trail during our thru-hike on the Florida Trail (2019)

Meanwhile at the other end of the state, in the Panhandle, we hope to also hike the Blackwater section of the Florida Trail. This is a forty-six-mile official Florida Trail side trail that connects the Florida Trail to the Alabama Hiking Trail, and if my memory serves me right, used to be the Florida Trail's official northern terminus. In hiking this trail, I will be that much closer to completing the entire Eastern Continental Trail. But that's not our real motivation. More importantly, we want to spend a few days unmoored from civilization, hiking with Amos, sleeping beneath the stars, with nothing more than the packs on our backs and sticks in hand. So, if anyone is reading this who may be able to help with a shuttle from one end to the other or a place to park our truck and pop-up for a few days, please reach out!

Trail magic with Sandra Friend and John Keatley

In between these two points we look forward to reconnecting with our Florida Trail community. Sadly, we had to miss Billy Goat Day this year, but we look forward to seeing each and every one of you we can while traversing the state. Y'all were what made our thru-hike not only meaningful, but successful and we're looking forward to swapping trail stories again. Also, I should mention that I am hard at work on writing my next book (HINT HINT) and it's mighty important I gather some solid information from y'all. If we haven't reached out to you already, please reach out to us! We want to see you! Also, we are hoping we'll cross paths with some of this year's hikers to offer some trail magic. Whenever possible, we'll be cruising the route of the trail, in hopes of spotting one!

Noah, Alex, Addy, and us hanging on Black Balsam (photo by Jodi)

 

Farther north, we are elated to be spending a solid week in Asheville, North Carolina with our dear people and beautiful blue mountains. Typically, we make a pilgrimage to Asheville once, if not twice a year, however due to covid, it has been two long years since we returned. The last time we were in Asheville, our friend, Rachel was getting married (a big 'ol barn gathering of 150 people plus) and honeymooning in Peru - all was still "normal" - now accomplishing these two events would be more significant than ever. Now, she's got a li'l boy and other friends, Jodi and Noah's baby girl is walking and talking and making trouble. Friends have bought houses and gotten masters degrees. I mean, wow. There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of singing and dancing, shooting the shit, and exploring the hollers and mountaintops. We can't wait to see y'all and be in our home away from home.

Yellow butterwort (Pinguicula lutea)

And of course, thread throughout all these shenanigans is a whole lot of quality time with the plants. Here in the north, where I currently type, the snow is blowing sideways, adding to the half a foot that's been on the ground for the last few weeks. This year has been a real winter with below zero temps and regular white stuff (plus icy stuff) falling from the sky. The green growing beings seem so far from view, lying dormant in a cold deep sleep. I need a glimpse of what's to come and, like the flowers, to feel the sunshine on my face and the cool dirt between my toes. Plus, I have some brushing up to do, given the new writing project.

So, that's it for now. In a bit, I will go push the snow off the top of the pop-up, in the hopes that in a few days, the temps will rise above freezing just enough to melt the ice so we may actually pop it open. Until we see you, sweet land of the south, we'll be dreaming warm sunshiny dreams. Looking forward to seeing y'all! Keep on the look-out for rolling Flamingo Estates!

Scott, myself, and Amos outside the pop-up at a favorite campsite in the Florida prairie