“Under the moonlight, the serious moonlight”.
Love that Bowie song and I will get to a weird dance I stumbled upon in a bit.
But first I need to make an apology.
I misidentified the tortoise in my last blog post.
It was not a Lesley Tortoise.
It was an endangered Gopher Tortoise. They like the high dry ground in Florida that is rapidly disappearing due to development. They live in burrows, hence the name Gopher.
So I apologize…to the tortoise. Sorry for the confusion.
It has been a very busy week.
Last Friday I visited Wekiwa Springs State Park near Orlando.
This is a very popular campground due to it’s proximity to Disney World and the swimming opportunities in the spring.
There are 60 campsites here and almost all are big and level, like number 26.
But if you happen to find a spot that is not quite level, well, you can just jack up the front of your class C a foot or so.
Yeah.
But as I said, the main deal here is the spring. I took a walk around it, clockwise, and here are the photos.
When you head down the path to the water, this is the first thing you see.
Looks almost like a swimming pool. But it’s not.
There was one guy swimming laps when I was there. He said the water felt great, as it was warmer than the air temperature.
I declined his offer for a race. Didn’t want to embarrass him.
I continued walking.
The photo below was taken from a bridge which spans the spring’s exit to the Wekiva River.
This is what it looks like facing the other way.
Wekiva River. Wekiwa Springs. The nearby town is called Wekiva. Someone needs to run spellcheck.
If you think this would be a good place to paddle you would be correct. They had rental watercraft.
A lot of them.
I finished my walk around the spring.
You can see the bridge in the center of the photo above.
If I ever decide to tap into my billion dollar trust fund (thanks Dad) I would build a pool just like this. Better yet, I would buy this place and offer free admission. For the ladies. Guys would have to pay $500 apiece.
Saturday I stopped by Lake Griffin State Park about 40 miles north. Yes, I am heading north now. I will be heading that direction until I hit Maine in June.
The 40 sites here are surrounded by a nice mixture of palms and mossy oaks, like number 3.
In fact, they have the second largest Live Oak in Florida.
I asked the ranger where the largest one was located. He admitted he did not know and probably should, because he gets asked that question many times.
We actually went into his office and he pulled out a big book of state park facts. Biggest, smallest, etc.
He thumbed through it and announced that the largest circumference Live Oak was 103 feet in diameter across the limb spread and was located in Big Cypress Swamp in south Florida.
I looked closely at the book and mentioned that he was looking in the Cypress category.
He was still looking as I left. Might still be, for all I know.
Anyway, there is a neat dock as well as boat rentals at Lake Griffin.
If you visit, ask about the largest Live Oak. See if they have figured that one out yet.
My last stop in Florida was at Mike Roess Gold Head Branch State Park on Sunday.
Feel free to just call it Gold Head Branch, because that is the name Reserve America uses. And reservations are needed here.
The 73 sites are located just east of the town of Keystone Heights.
Keystone. I like that name.
And I liked the fact that the sun finally showed up. I was in site number 4.
I was so happy that I made pancakes. For dinner.
(Danny, do you recognize anything?)
There are two camping areas here about a mile apart.
The upper area where I stayed also had a tent loop, with gorgeous sites like number 25.
I hiked down to the lower campsites, passing by one of the lakes.
With the obligatory canoe rentals.
I noticed some weird shapes on the water, but it was just a pair of two-headed turtles enjoying the sun.
(You need to look at the reflections to understand)
The trail led to the largest campsite I have ever seen so far.
Number 39.
Yes, that is one campsite.
Heading back to my trailer I passed by the cabin area.
I could live in this one.
I also figured out why it was sunny today. The lack of clouds and moisture in the air. But why?
Moisture Man was usurped by Moss Man. Absorbed, if you will.
Cheers to Moss Man! He vaguely reminds me of my Brother Mike. I think it is the red eyes…
I left Florida on Monday and drove a crooked path to Crooked River State Park in Georgia.
There are 62 sites here and I stayed in number 41.
Several spaces are alongside Crooked River. Number 11 was the ranger’s favorite.
Georgia State Parks offer laundry facilities and I took advantage of them. I had purchased a new sheet set a week ago and not washed it yet. It was time. I could tell because of the crackling sound when I got into bed.
So here, in all it’s glory, is my bedroom replete with freshly washed sheets.
Oh Yeah!
I was looking forward to hitting the clean sheets but ended staying up past my normal bedtime. Which is dark. Light, get up, dark, go to bed. At least at this time of the year when the nights are chilly and I am not making a fire.
But I did make a fire, sort of.
Tacos.
My old headlamp was a Princeton Tec Fuel that finally gave out last year. Their new model added a red led which I really like. That is setting I use the most and it has two brightness levels. The name change was simple enough. Take the F from fuel and add RED. So the new name is FRED.
Highly recommended and that is what I used to light the pictures of the tacos.
Which I promptly took inside.
And consumed. Glenn style. Square cheese.
I heard a soft pattering of rain on the trailer roof that eventually turned into a downpour that night.
Tuesday morning I took a quick pic of Crooked River on my way to Fort McAllister Historic State Park.
The campsites keep getting larger as I head north and McAllister was no exception.
Check out number 39 of their 65 sites.
There were colorful boats for rent near the dock alongside Redbird Creek.
I have canoed for over 40 years and I really want to rent one of these but the weather never seems to cooperate. Lately, anyway.
Wednesday I followed the Georgia coast north to Skidaway Island State Park.
This is probably the most popular state park in Georgia, being only minutes away from Savannah.
I walked the campground in the pouring rain with my handy umbrella.
Check out the size of the pull-through sites. Below are numbers 28, 30, and 40.
If you have a 200 foot RV, bring it here. You will fit just fine.
I hunkered back in my office to process photos.
The tarp is to keep the inside of the door dry and the heater is to keep my toes warm. The weird looking thing on the floor used to cover my tent sleeping pad which has now become part of my trailer bed. It’s just there to collect mud now. And water. Temporarily. Till the rain stops.
I left the coast on Thursday and followed the Savannah River northwest for 85 miles.
My GPS took me over the river and briefly into South Carolina for some reason. Then back over the river later on. Probably so Brother Mike could see a bridge photo. Only 300 feet in the air. Maybe 400.
I ended up at Magnolia Springs State Park.
This small state park only has 26 sites, but I bet when the weather is nice it would be a fun place.
I floated in site number 12 for the night.
Barely. Thought I might end up in the lake.
Which has an amphitheater nearby and boat rentals.
That, kids, is called a segue. Look it up. In a dictionary. Ask your grandparents what that is. They probably keep it next to their set of encyclopedias.
Good news!
Today, Friday, I followed the river another 100 miles to Mistletoe State Park. The weather is supposed to change from rainy and 45 degrees to sunny and 75 degrees tomorrow.
Yippee!
Details on that park will be in the next blog, but I managed to snag a lakefront site. I could probably cast a bait from inside my trailer. Well, the backcast might snag but you get the idea.
Where was I? Oh, the dancing thing.
There are several types of dances named after animals or birds.
The Fox Trot, the Turkey Trot, whatever.
At Fort McAllister I witnessed one that was new to me.
Scattered around the campground are several old buildings including a historic outhouse.
A group of campers trotted around it singing and flailing their arms until one of them would yell freeze.
The first one to move would have to sit in the outhouse until the end of the next dance. At least that it was it looked liked to me. But one guy seemed to be in the outhouse the whole time.
Intrigued and mostly perplexed, I approached them. Warily.
“So, what’s up?” I asked. “Is everything OK?”
“Oh sure” one of them replied as he stepped up to me. “We’re playing the Possum Trot”.
“Say What?”
“The Possum Trot, look at our sign”.
Sure enough, they had a sign.
“OK”, I said. “But what about that guy that seems to stay in the outhouse. Is he all right?”.
“Yeah”, he replied. “He seems to like it there”.
I walked over and took a photo.
Suddenly, it all made sense.
Regards,
Greg
