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Published: March 5th 2018
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To back track to our trip narrative:
We had left Bushnell heading NW for the Panhandle. Cathy had reserved us 3 nights at an RV Campground at Indian Pass. We checked the map and decided to avoid the I 75 to I 10 route to get there. We don't really like towing on the interstates anyway, and the fact that we only tow at a self-in forced 62 mph max makes the traffic that much worse. In addition to that, the Route 19/98 alternative was much more direct. It turned out to be a good decision, as the roads were good, and once we were a little north or the Central Florida sprawl, the traffic was very light.
We arrived at the park mid-afternoon, and were very pleased with it. It was shady and nice, the folks were all very friendly, and it was right on the water. The next morning it was only a few steps required to carry the Sportboat over to the beach and rig up. It was a very short run, maybe a ¼ mile or so, over to St Vincent Island, a
National Wildlife Reserve. And a good thing too, as it was very windy, though the channel was too narrow to build much of a chop.
We hauled Sporty up as high as we could, and tied it off to a NPS signpost, then headed out to explore the island. A short walk of a few hundred yards brought us to the gulf beach, and it was beautiful. Light tan sand curving away to the east, almost as far as we could see, and not another soul there. We hiked the beach for a bit, then cut inland and continued east on some old logging roads. We saw a few other folks, but it was very quiet. After a bit we came to another cross road and headed back to the beach.
Cathy decided to go back to the boat and get the chairs, then set up on the sand and do some reading. I carried on the east along the water, just to see what I could see. I love to beach comb, it really is one of my favorite things. It wasn't long before I
came upon a really puzzling find, a huge steel pipe about 3 feet in diameter, and well over 100 feet long. It was sealed on both ends, so it would float – it had indeed floated up where it was now. One end was a cast socket, the other a matching ball end. Along the shaft was a captive locking ring, cleverly designed to hold the ball end in a socket of another length of the same kind of pipe, but what for? It was clearly intended to be fitted together in series with other identical units, and to have a certain degree of flexibility, but beyond that it baffles me?
I continued on for some miles, not a human to be seen. Soon I came to a place where the beach had eroded back into a stand of pines. It has odd to see some of them almost in the surf, with their upper roots completely exposed, still alive, standing on their tap roots. Not long after that I came to a sign saying that beyond that point was a Bald Eagle nesting area, and that no one was permitted there in
season. I reluctantly headed back, only then to realize just how far I'd gone – and just as well because I was a very tired fellow by the time I got back to Cathy.
Then it was to the boat for a short ride around on the bay side of St Vincent Island, and then back to our campsite. The highlight of this ride was when, completely without warning, a dolphin breached not 8 feet to the right of Cathy in the front seat of the boat. I will admit that it startled me as well, but poor Cathy nearly jumped out of her skin. Was it wrong to enjoy that – I wonder?
After a bit of relaxation (read – nap!) We drove just a few miles back towards the main road to the “Indian Pass Raw Bar”. This little joint was mentioned and recommended in the “Road Food” book we had received from our niece Emily and her husband Peter this Christmas. The place was a treat, you fill out your own food order slip, then give it to the cook. They also give
you a drink tab slip, and you pour your own draft beer and keep track of your consumption – great fun!
So that was our fine little adventure at Indian Pass, a happy and care-free day that sadly, was ended by the tragic news of that evening.
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