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.

Clouds?

lenticular cloud

Not to be outdone by the wildlife and mountains, the clouds have their day. These lenticular clouds were everywhere today.

Lenticular, or lens-shaped clouds, are formed by air moving over the surface of the Earth that encounters obstructions, like, say, mountains—big mountains. The air swirls around the obstacle and, under the right conditions of moisture, temperature, and dew point, can form these crazy saucer shapes that some people mistake for UFOs.

Mountain’s Majesty

 

We came to see the wildlife, the kind that moves, but we never anticipated the wild beauty of these mountains. Trees, rock, snow, glaciers—it’s awe-inspiring! And if you time it just right, you might even catch a reflection off of a calm lake on a clear day.

North Face Lodge

at the park entrance

Last February I was researching a place to stay inside Denali National Park. I had read that the best place to see wildlife is as deep into the interior as visitors can go. There is only one road into the park, and it’s 92 miles long. The first 15 miles is open to car traffic, but the next 77 is open only to the buses that ferry almost 600,000 visitors a year in and out. With stops for wildlife viewing and other necessities, these buses don’t average much more than 10 mph on a bumpy, gravel, single-track road. I started thinking: 92 miles at 10 mph—the drive could take nine hours in one direction! I planned on visiting the park every day for four days, and I had no intention of living on a bus. We were going to have to stay in the park.

a warm welcome at North Face Lodge

There are only three places to stay inside the park, and one involves cabins without plumbing. Scratch that—an outhouse down a dark path on a cold, windy night was not in my plans either. We chose the North Face Lodge, the camp’s sister lodge just down the hill. I read something about guided hikes on the website. Not sure where, when, or how that would work, but if it didn’t suit our needs, we could always do our own thing.

a fireside chat before breakfast

We discovered that the lodge had our entire four-day adventure planned down to the personalized napkin pins. We were met at the park entrance, assigned to a bus, relieved of our luggage, and welcomed aboard—along with 30-some other people. The 17 rooms at the lodge would be occupied for four days by the same group of people. Everyone arrives on the same day and leaves on the same day. We were greeted at the lodge by two energetic, young hosts who, over the course of our four-day visit, told us where we needed to be next, and what we had the option of doing there. They were supported by a whole passel of staff who rotated through various tasks: naturalists, guides, bus and van drivers, cooks, servers, gardeners, dishwashers, housekeepers, and more. The lichen expert may be your bus driver/hiking guide one day, and the next morning she’s serving you stuffed French toast. They were an incredible team, so enthusiastic about spending their summer in the great outdoors.

personalized napkin pins defined our social groupings

We were delighted to be part of this little family. We ate our meals together, and at each meal we were seated with someone we hadn’t had a chance to talk to yet. Each day after breakfast we chose our own level of adventure: strenuous, moderate, or foray. Or we could choose to stay at the lodge and hike their nature trails, bike, canoe, or just sit by the fire and read. Selecting our own tempo provided a different way of mixing us up. After finishing a moderate hike on the tundra the first day, we were a bit envious of the forayers who did less walking and more riding around in vans to carefully selected locations where large mammals were known to hang out. So the second day we chose to foray, and we had an opportunity not only to see wildlife, but also to get to know a different group of people. Normally I like to call the shots about what we do and when we do it, but this was so well orchestrated and so congenial that I felt a bit sentimental on the day we departed. What a marvelous group of people—both guests and staff—and what an enjoyable way to share a common passion! I’m going to miss them. Sometimes it’s fortuitous not to know what you’re getting into.