Exploring central Florida

   We’re trying to explore central Florida more this year. This week we visited Winter Park, a suburb of Orlando, and Juniper Springs, one of many natural springs in the area.

   Winter Park was delightful. Juniper Springs was fundamentally frightening.

   Winter Park’s city website says the 28,486-resident city was created in 1887 as a “winter resort for wealthy Northerners seeking refuge from the harsh winters.”  We checked out the Park Avenue neighborhood which featured a narrow park along the western side of the brick street and a nice mixture of shops and restaurants on the other side.

   Barnie’s Coffee Kitchen was a real find. There is a small courtyard with a handful of tables and a fountain, but more importantly, they have micro-roasted coffee. We picked up a bag of Tanzanian coffee beans, which is by far the best coffee we’ve found in our travels.

   We had lunch at Ethos, a vegan restaurant just off Park Avenue. The “chicken” Marsala was best vegan meal I’ve ever had at a restaurant.

   Rollins College is at the southern end of Park Avenue. We strolled the lake front, but didn’t take time to explore the Cornell Fine Arts Museum or the sinkhole that swallowed up a city block in 1981. So we’re planning another trip. Hate to miss a Florida sinkhole.

   Which brings us to Juniper Springs.

   Central Florida is home to a good number of natural springs, many of which are used as swimming areas. The water is cool and, because the head of the springs, where the water bubbles up from beneath the ground, can be somewhat enclosed to keep alligators at bay, it sounds good, right?

   Except for the “bubbles up from the ground part.”

   Now, I’m no geologist, but my understanding of sinkholes – gathered from reading the information plaques at the several sinkholes we’ve visited - is that they are created by water dissolving the underlying limestone enough that the ground above sinks into the newly created hole. So swimming above a limestone area that is so full of water that it ‘boils’ up to the surface sounds to me like swimming in a soon-to-be sinkhole.

   Anyhow, the folks we saw at Juniper Springs seemed to be having a great time. And the only alligator we saw was a good fifteen minutes’ walk away.

Back in Florida

   From Hilton Head, S.C., we drove north to visit family in Hanover, Pa., for most of April. Then we meandered south, visiting our daughter in northern Virginia and then our sons in Raleigh. Two weeks ago we unloaded our car in Spruce Creek Country Club, where we spent last summer and fall, and settled in for the rest of the year.

   For our first travel date we drove an hour north to Gainesville to visit Kanapaha Botanical Gardens and to find a good, local coffee roaster.
   The gardens were delightful. There are two circuits, one winds past a a small water garden and loops through a butterfly garden, the other passes through the largest public bamboo forest in the Southeast and features an herb garden that smelled great and was very informative.
Speaking of delightful aromas ... we stumbled across Sweetwater Organic Coffee Roaster and, although we suspected that it was wholesale only, we knocked on the door. Inside we discovered that, yes, it is primarily a wholesale operation, but they were happy to sell me some coffee. We looked over the whiteboard where they listed the country, level of roast and even the coop from which they purchased the beans. While they were bagging some Ethiopian Yirgacheffe and some Nicaraguan Matagalpa beans I peeked into the roasting room. They caught me and invited us in for a tour. Jim, the roaster, showed us the 60-kilo roaster, the supplies of green beans, the tubs of that days roasts, and walked us through the process.
   We capped the day with a visit to Sweet Mel's Bar and Grill in downtown Gainesville. We found this college bar last summer and popped in twice last year. The bartender remembered us and, it being a slow afternoon, sat down to tell us about a new burger combination he is inventing.

Just turned 62

The earth has just completed its 62^nd revolution around the sun since I was born. While it was busy tossing about polar vortexes, defrosting the poles and shifting its tectonic plates, I learned that I love the heat and humidity of central Florida and that Hilton Head Island, while beautiful, is not consistently warm enough for winter tennis. Unless you are Canadian.

I wandered Savanna’s Spanish-moss decorated streets, walked softly through Bonaventure Cemetery under a full moon, tiptoed fearfully past alligators sunning themselves along a too-narrow trail in Paynes Prairie, marveled at the rise and fall of John Ringling and the beauty of his Sarasota estate and circus museum, and happily discovered that clay tennis courts play slowly enough that I can hit a topspin backhand. I published the second of my Imhotep novels, completed writing a third and began plotting a fourth.

More importantly I enjoyed all this in the loving company of my wife, found time - never enough - to proudly admire the accomplishments of my children, and kept in too-fleeting contact with my extended family and my friends.

Although I would never claim to have firm footing, I picture myself leaning into the swirl of the earth’s spin as it hurtles through the ever expanding universe on another trek around our star. I can’t wait to see what this circuit reveals.

Hilton Head Review

With less than a month left here on Hilton Head Island I think we've seen enough to give the area a fair review.

SHORT VERSION: We're heading farther south.

LONG VERSION:

TENNIS

Having played on hard courts all of our lives we enjoyed giving clay tennis courts a serious try. I like the slower play, it gives me more time to set up my backhand so we have longer rallies, but they end too often with a ball skidding off a line or taking a crazy bounce. So we're looking forward to returning to hard courts.

ATTRACTIONS

Pinckney Island is a pleasant hike. The beaches here on the northeastern end of the island are wide and easily accessible. The Coligny Beach area is fun to explore. There are plenty of grocery stores, the new Kroeger has a great produce area, good cheese selections and a nice bakery. Speaking of bakeries, we found two French bakeries. We are about an hour from Savannah's River Street restaurants, Spanish-moss-draped squares and the interesting shops along Broughton Street . Lots to do, but we have to drive to everything, except the beach.

WEATHER

I know it has been a crazy cold winter in the U.S. but we often found ourselves looking longingly at the weather forecast in Florida. I don't think we can count on South Carolina to stay warm enough for us. So we're going to start working our way down the Gulf coast of Florida.

Winter on Hilton Head Island

We're spending the winter (November through the end of March) on Hilton Head Island.

Using Vacation Rentals By Owner we contacted several condo owners back in June. Winter is the off season here, so rates are much lower. For example, the 2-bedroom condo we ended up renting goes for $700 a week during the June, July and August; but only $425 a week for September through February; and $500 a week in March, April and May. The owner also listed a price of $800 a month for the deep winter months of December, January and February.

We contacted the owner and asked what he would charge if we rented the entire November through March block; which at the 'rack' rates would have cost $6,100. He came back with an offer of $800 a month or $4,000 for the five months. That includes all utilities, taxes and use of amenities.

So, here we are.

How is Hilton Head in the winter? Chillier than Florida, that's for sure, but much warmer than Pennsylvania where we used to live. We're getting tennis weather (60+ degrees) regularly, have a 50-minute drive to Savannah (more about Savannah in a future post) and the weather has been mild enough for sporadic walks on the beach.

Easily distracted

In March after leaving the condo we rented in Myrtle Beach we drove to Hanover, Pa., to visit our families for the month of April. That visit was extended a month for various reasons, and we ended up getting to our next rental, in Spruce Creek Country Club, Summerfield, Fl., in June.

And I got distracted.

We played tennis and swam. We visited Gainesville, Ocala and Sarasota. We dodged alligators in Paynes Prairie and tested our circus skills at the Ringling Museum. I wrote 250 pages of my next novel and all of a sudden it was the end of October and our lease was ending. We packed up, drove north and unpacked in a condo on Hilton Head Island Thursday.

I don't like long blog entries, so I'll get this travelogue up to date in baby-sized steps.

Here's what is coming:

• Slouching toward Florida. Leaving Hanover in June, we made stops at two Del Webb communities and one resort in South Carolina.
• A Florida oasis. Life in a gated country club is sweet, but isolated.
• Panic attack. We don't know where we're going to live in a few months.
• More heat. The temperature dipped below 80. We need to move even farther south.
• Anyone for polo? We never expected to find polo in a 55+ community.

That's what I'm planning ... unless I get distracted by the clay tennis courts here.

Too much nature

We're renting a home in Spruce Creek Country Club, a Del Webb community near Ocala, Florida (more about this in a future post). After a few months of abandoning ourselves to tennis, lounging by the pool and working on my next novel, we decided to get back to exploring.

One of the intersections leading to the trail head.

Today we visited Ocala National Forest. Two years ago we spent a day driving through the Everglades and three years ago we explored the Audubon Swamp Garden at Magnolia Plantation near Charleston, but neither prepared us for Sinkhole Trail. 

Yeah, sinkhole.

The yellow rat snake who welcomed us to the trail.

Five feet into the trail we encountered a yellow rat snake slithering across the path. (I think it was 20 feet long, but the picture I grabbed is apparently distorted because the snake only looks five feet long.) Farther along we came to the first of several warning signs, this one explaining how we should act if we encounter a 300 pound black bear. (Make noise and slowly back away. I'm thinking scream, wet my pants and run.) Later signs warned us of ticks and chiggers, unstable terrain and snakes.

They forgot to mention spiders.

After reaching the edge of the sinkhole, which lay somewhere beyond a wooden railing, obscured by dense foliage – in fact the entire trail was claustrophobic, the side brush so thick that the effect was like walking in a dense green tunnel, with the added attraction of snakes, bears and ticks – we turned up a side trail to return to the parking lot.

The trail.

This trail, apparently seldom used, was decorated with rotted, fallen trees that blocked the trail and festooned with low hanging spider webs whose architects were the size of a child's fist. The webs themselves were heavy and yellow, like heavy fishing line.

We spent the return walk watching overhead for spiders and trying to clear the webs so that we could pass, examining the ground for snakes, torn between running in terror or cautiously tiptoeing, all the while studiously ignoring sounds from the underbrush.

We're going to have to work on this outdoor exploring attitude. In the meantime, next trip is west toward Tampa and the Gulf of Mexico.