Four months into this ordeal, I continue to find no shortage of places to explore in this narrow strip of salty mangrove swamp. Some of the best Mexican food I've ever had, is at Salsa Loca in Key West. And some absolutely life-changing chicken marsala is to be had at the Southernmost Beach Cafe, where you can actually dine in an open-air enclosure on the beach. Annie's Sugarloaf Food Company (actually on Summerland Key) has baked goods to die for. The depth of the culinary experience here is on par with any other city I've lived in, despite all those others being hundreds of times larger. Yes, I've been busy enjoying the Off-Season while I still can. Things are already beginning to pick up here. So it's time for a Sunday drive.
There's Fat Albert, the surveillance blimp tethered some 14,000 feet above Blimp Road in Cudjoe Key. Some say he taps your phone calls, some say he broadcasts to Cuba. His insides contain steel trusses, rackspace that is leased out to various government agencies. There's some kernel of truth to all of the rumors. I stop taking pictures and get back on the road. People leaning out of cars to photograph Fat Albert on the side of the road look weird, I admit.
Today I'm going to the Blue Hole in Big Pine Key. After turning down Big Pine Boulevard and driving a seemingly-interminable stretch of absolutely nothing, comes this unassuming parking area.
Okay, that was easy enough. Let's get down the trail and see if we can find some wildlife.
Nope, nothing yet...
Bingo. How you doin, mister gator?
Blue Hole is apparently a natural sinkhole that was greatly enlarged through the practice of limestone quarrying (did I get that right). I have a certain fascination for places like this and California's Salton Sea, geological accidents that lend themselves to diversity.
How you doin, mister turtle?
The trail is short and the signs are very clear about discouraging more exploration. I get back to the Honda Element (aka Brave Little Toaster), and I realize it has never been photographed before, so here it is, red hurricane sticker and all. It is a 2008 EX, in Galaxy Grey, optioned out with cargo racks, a bike rack, side steps, deflector shields, XM radio, a tent attachment, and some other crap I've certainly forgotten. An amazingly versatile vehicle capable of evacuating the entire menagerie in the event of disaster. Nice gas mileage too. Perhaps you can just barely see the suction-cupped arm that holds the (absolutely fabulous) dash.net internet-enabled GPS system in place:
After some limited exploration, I get on my way back home. At MM20 by Mangrove Mama's, I take a turn down SR-939B to see the KOA Kampground at the former Pirates Cove. The pavement ends, and I take the Element over what is now a washed-out one-lane dirt path, but I don't get far. I throw it into reverse and back it out before I get stuck in the mud. There's a better stretch of this road further down by Sugarloaf Shores that I'll try to explore next, the old State Road 4A that once went to Geiger Key, Stock Island, and Key West before US-1 did. I'm mostly interested in the bridge over Sammy's Creek, near the site of what Grace and I now call Abba Zabba. But for now, I've got to get home and walk the dogs. I hear there's quite the Sunset Celebration in Key West, and maybe I should get ready to photograph that tonight. Four months and I've still never been.
-Chris