Happy trails!

at home on the St. Lucie River

We are home again, and it feels so good to be here. We’re looking forward to a long, beautiful Florida winter in one place, with no suitcases to pack and unpack, pack and unpack, pack and unpack.

We don’t use our elevator much, but there are a few times when it comes in extremely handy, like when you have a broken leg (Marcus 2017) or a carload of luggage, crates, tote bags, and a very heavy cooler to get up to the second and third floors (the day we got home). No sweat! We put the first load of stuff into the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. After several failed attempts to get it operational–and after a long day driving–Marcus eventually had to lug everything upstairs himself. Add to to-do list: call elevator repair guy.

We spent several hours digging in to our first phase of unpacking. Lots of sweat! The AC chugged and wheezed, but only managed to push out air just slightly cooler than the ambient air. “It will catch up,” Marcus assured me. Exhausted, I showered and went to bed. I was very much looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again, but I just couldn’t get comfortable. The AC still wasn’t performing up to snuff, and I don’t sleep well in a room over 70°F. It was a fitful night. The next day, Marcus waffled over whether we should pay the premium for a weekend service call. “Do it!” I told him. “It’s either that or pay twice as much for me to stay in a hotel this weekend.” Add to to-do list: call AC repair guy.

I was looking forward to driving my Cute Little Blue Car again, to catch up on some long-delayed errands. The garage door opened easily, but wouldn’t close again. After considerable jostling with the door, the sensor, and the remotes, Marcus got it to cooperate…until the next time we tried to close it. Add to to-do list: call garage door repair guy.

Apparently our house missed us these past six weeks. I suppose, now that it’s in its teen years, it’s getting sullen and irritable when we’re away for too long. Makes me a wee bit thoughtful about planning any more extended trips. *pause* Okay, I’m over it. I’m thinking about Ireland next spring…three months traveling the whole island, north and south. What do you think?

Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland

So, I need to get busy reading for the trip. Any good Irish literature you’d like to recommend? Send me an email.

And so, my friends, happy trails to you until we meet again–wherever the spinning compass may take us. Thanks for coming on this adventure. It was good to have you along.

Best~ Cindy

Kayaking Lessons

 

Marcus and I had only tried kayaking once before–twelve years ago at a resort in Jamaica. Our backs hurt so badly after ten minutes of sitting in the molded plastic seats, we returned the kayaks to the beach and hobbled back to our lounge chairs.

So many of our friends rave about kayaking. I’ve watched people in kayaks in the Indian River Lagoon in Stuart, and I’ve envied the way they silently slip in and out of the mangrove islands watching wildlife undisturbed. How is it that everyone can sit in those boats for hours except us? I began to suspect that maybe it wasn’t us, it was the cheap for-tourists-only kayaks at the resort.

Fortunately we had the opportunity on this trip to try good kayaks. Our friends, Dan and Nancy, live on a little piece of paradise on the Withlacoochee River in Inglis, just north of Crystal River. They are avid kayakers and offered to let us try theirs in the peace and quiet of their backyard river. Well, I thought, if we don’t find their kayaks comfortable, then it is us!

I was a little apprehensive, however. I had never paddled any kind of boat on my own. Marcus had always been on board to help me out, if I should find myself headed backward downriver toward a waterfall, for example. But this was a one-person craft; I’d be on my own. Fortunately Dan and Nancy are extremely patient teachers and did just about everything but paddle for me–adjusting the foot rests to fit, easing me into and out of the river, and following me upriver and back like protective parental ducks taking their offspring on her first swim. I was in good company!

It was a blast–all twenty minutes of it! Dan and Nancy gave us the option of going on a longer journey downriver after our trial run, but we opted for their pontoon boat so we could go farther and see more–and so we could perfect our paddling strokes in the privacy of our own lagoon! I felt like a baby moose trying to stand on gawky legs for the first time. The paddle was everywhere except where I wanted it to be! How does one gracefully apply this oversized appendage toward something resembling movement?

We’ll seek out further kayaking opportunities at home and get that paddling down to an art. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

In the wild

manatee sighting at Kings Bay Park, Crystal River

On a whim, we drove to Kings Bay Park in downtown Crystal River to see if there were any manatees hanging around. It was a chilly morning. Maybe there would be some stragglers who weren’t on their way out to the gulf yet. Several dive boats full of tourists in wetsuits and snorkel gear were prowling Kings Bay looking for manatees as well. Suddenly a large manatee surfaced at the dock we were standing on, practically under our feet.

“Don’t point at it!” I whispered urgently to Marcus as his arm naturally began to extend.

“What? Why?” he asked.

“I don’t want those boats to see you pointing, or they’ll head over here to have a look and scare him away.”

We kept our arms, and our first wild manatee, to ourselves for just a few moments longer.

a cute little guy wearing the floor of the bay on his back!

Up Close and Too Personal?

 

manatee with an injured flipper (behind him)

We were eagerly anticipating the manatee program at Homosassa Springs Wildlife Park as they are known primarily for their manatee refuge. The park is the only place in the area you are likely to see manatees year round. I don’t think they have any permanent residents, thank goodness, but given all the boat-strikes and other mishaps, they are usually working continuously with injured manatees to heal them and prepare them to be released back to the wild. We weren’t having much luck finding manatees in the area’s rivers this week because of the warmer-than-usual weather—record-breaking highs five days in a row. So we were excited to see some up close and personal.

When we arrived at the manatee tank, we found it high and dry with three manatees in it—and about a dozen people. No manatee presentation today; instead, the three new manatees the park had recently acquired, victims of last September’s Hurricane Irma, would receive their first medical checkup. Visitors were welcome to watch, however. I wouldn’t call it entertaining, but it certainly was an eye-opener.

As we arrived, there was a bit of a discussion amongst the staff members, volunteers, and vets in the enclosure as to the best way to give the manatees their much-needed shots. These guys were injured and needed antibiotics, among other things. They were not used to being handled by humans, and yet it was necessary for them to be restrained so the vet could inject them.

 

A nod of heads all around and four staff members and volunteers placed foam mats on top of one of the manatees. There was a bit of foot shuffling and half-hearted attempts to kneel next to the immense animal. Finally one of the staff members, aptly wearing a wetsuit, draped himself over the foam-topped manatee and the rest clumsily followed suit. The manatee struggled under the sudden weight, the restrainers renewed their efforts, slipping awkwardly in the mess at the bottom of the tank, and the vet was able to administer the injections.

Owie! Owie! Owie!

Well, we got our manatee encounter, up close and personal, but nothing like the volunteers and staff members did! I’ll bet it took half a dozen showers to wash away the smell of distressed manatee!

 

Olivia

Olivia (aka Robin)

My third treat for the day was Olivia, a resident opossum at Homosassa Springs Wildlife Park. Olivia and her sister were orphaned at a very young age and are now wildlife emissaries at the park. On the day we were there she was assisting a volunteer with the park’s Wildlife Encounters program by showing us how many kibbles she can eat.

Note: For some reason the volunteer kept calling her Robin. What? She was obviously mistaken. Look at that face! That’s an Olivia, if ever I saw one. Don’t you agree?

I had no idea that possums could be so adorable! I could have watched her munch on kibbles all day. Such a good employee!

Yuma

Yuma, with his first kill of the day

Another highlight of the Wildlife Park in Homosassa Springs was the Florida panther. Prior to this, I had never seen a live one. The Wildlife Park has two resident panthers, both males rescued as infants. They can’t be kept in the same enclosure, so the park rotates them—one is on display in the main enclosure while the other is in R&R behind the scenes. On the day we were there, Yuma was up to bat.

When we arrived at the panther enclosure, we couldn’t find him. We asked a nearby volunteer who told us that the volunteers hadn’t been able to locate him all morning. The enclosure is not large. As we were chatting, we scanned the proximity. Suddenly a panther leaped out of the bushes in front of us and pounced on a turkey vulture that had just landed twenty feet away. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my first exposure to a Florida panther!

The volunteer I was talking to was shocked. In her twenty years at the Wildlife Park, she had never seen either panther attempt to catch any of the birds who are free to come and go in the roofless enclosure. (The park has a sprinkler system to discourage birds from landing in certain enclosures. It wasn’t engaged in the panther enclosure that morning, however.) Yuma carried the vulture into his super-secret hiding place in the bushes and proceeded to “play” with his kill for a bit. He didn’t seem to know what to do with it, never having had to kill to eat. Good to know the hunting instinct is still alive and well!

Yuma, in his super-secret hiding place, watching a turkey vulture

Marcus and I walked away to see some of the other exhibits, but wandered back to the panther enclosure after twenty minutes or so. We could see Yuma, still in the bushes, and still admiring his handiwork, when suddenly he leaped out and snagged another vulture, right out of mid-air this time! The poor, unsuspecting bird was about six feet from landing when Yuma snagged him.

Yikes! A second kill!

Given our track record for witnessing panther bird-strikes, we decided that perhaps, in the interest of preserving the local vulture population, we should stop visiting the exhibit! On to the Wildlife Encounter….

Lucifer

Lucifer (Lu), a 58-year-old hippo

On our first day on the Nature Coast, we visited the Homosassa Springs Wildlife Park about seven miles south of Crystal River. In addition to being a refuge for injured manatees, it is home to other animals as well—some eventually releasable, some permanent residents due to injuries or being orphaned as babies.

Lu eating his breakfast of alfalfa

The star attraction for us was Lucifer, a 58-year-old hippo—the oldest in North America. Hippos generally do not live beyond fifty, so this guy is doing well. He was born in captivity, at the San Diego Zoo, so he’s always been cared for. He had quite the appetite and seemed to be enjoying his breakfast of alfalfa when we arrived. Get a load of that ear hair!

Westward, Ho!

It started with a lunch date in Lake Placid, Florida. A friend of Marcus’s from New Hampshire had bought a home in Bradenton, on the west coast of the state, and wondered if we would like to meet somewhere in between there and Stuart for lunch. Sure! What’s a two-hour drive amongst friends?

But then we started thinking: If we’re going to drive halfway across the state, why not drive the whole distance and make a mini-vacation of it? I scanned my brain: What have I had a hankering to see on the west coast? It took all of a few seconds to decide—manatees!

Winter is manatee season in Florida. When the water temps in the ocean and gulf are chilly, the manatees come into the rivers and lagoons where it’s warmer. Power plants, with their warm wastewater effluence, are a draw, but the main focal points in the state are the underwater springs, typically a cozy year-round 72°—a veritable hot tub for a manatee in winter.

No less than fifty underwater springs feed Kings Bay in Crystal River, on Florida’s gulf coast, making it the second largest first-magnitude spring system in the state, according to Wikipedia, and a popular winter home to hundreds of manatees. (Wakulla Springs is the largest first-magnitude system.) I’ve always wanted to visit to see a multitude of manatees in their natural winter habitat, and this, being February and a chillier-than-average winter, seemed like the ideal time.

Of course, we made these plans in January, when the weather was much cooler. It’s warmer now, but the temperatures are still dropping into the 60s overnight. We have seen a few in the early morning. Stay tuned for more wildlife adventures….

Under construction

We are home and planning our next adventure because the compass never stops spinning. Check out my Future Adventures tab to see some of the possibilities! I’d love your feedback and ideas.