Life, On the Road Again

It was an enjoyable Fall season in Maryland and Virginia this year though evening temps  convinced me that pointing south was a good idea. While I’ll admit to second guessing my choice of Florida for Election Day, the results and subsequent behaviors were unexpected. 

     For the first time, I chose to skip the drive south and hop the Auto Train from Virginia. While I always request a window seat to sleep, I did question seat #13 on car 5313. “That doesn’t seem like a good number for me,” I told the service woman, but she just laughed and carried on. Lo and behold there was a woman in my seat when I arrived who was none too pleased that she wasn’t getting the window. Not my concern though she ignored me for the entire trip. Even better. 
     At some point during the night, the train had a mechanical breakdown in North Carolina. While I missed this scene, we did arrive in Florida nearly 5 hours late. Oh well, I’d booked a room for a few nights within a few miles. When my car rolled off the train in less than an hour, I was quite pleased and with genuine glee, I ran to jump in and drive away. 
     Suddenly, a giant man starts screaming, “Ma’am, we are not valeting cars today!” but this doesn’t quite register as I’m near my car, the door is open, and no change had been mentioned. “Ma’am, get behind the line now!” this giant yells while pointing all too closely at me. This registers, so I roll my eyes and walk away. As I turn, I’m facing 150 or so people staring at me. 
     Welcome to Florida, though Detective Kai Sullivan is currently under informal investigation. Did you know that there is an Amtrak Police Department?  I do now. Always pay attention to that gut feeling.
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The End of the Line
Beyond convenience, there were a few reasons I’d booked a short stay in Sanford. There was the need for bike repairs and I want to support Bicikleta – a minority-owned and female-run bike shop. I also knew that I could safely ride along the River Trail on Lake Monroe, as well as enjoy time in the Historic District.
    The big surprise was that Sanford had been flooding for three weeks from residual storm surge of Hurricane Milton. So, it was simply good timing that the bike trail was available as portions of the road were still closed and repairs were underway in neighborhoods. 
      All in all, it was a pleasant few days sharing a home with three guests – a woman pondering relocation to Paris, a young man constantly working, and an elder who authored the book, The Taxi Chronicles. It was a household of considerate people and a good resting spot before hitting the road.

St. Lucie South, Lake Okeechobee
It’s been two or more years since I’ve visited this unassuming Army Corps of Engineers campground, but it’s a familiar stop for me to comfortably enjoy tent life at an incredible price. Day time was spent walking about the neighborhood, enjoying a bike route I know well, and having occasional chats with RVers and a boater or two. Evenings came really early with the clock change yet I didn’t mind cocooning in my tent with a good book and rising with the sun. 
     I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve put up a tent along this St. Lucie Lock so I swore I wouldn’t take another sunset photo. Promises, promises. 

Port Salerno
My next stop was a mere 7 miles east, and a first-time camping experience via Hipcamp. Touted as the “Airbnb of the outdoors”, it’s existed for a decade but never suited my needs. This year, I wanted to return to Port Salerno and be outside, so a tent spot in “a park setting with a lake view” seemed right for 10 nights.
     My last stay in this sweet town was March 2020 but locals continue to work toward preserving its historic fishing village feel. My tent location was a neighborhood just a half-mile to the waterfront district on an acre lot homesteaded by two women – a Californian and a New Englander. I had my own little corner of their world, access to an outdoor shower, a compost toilet, and an electric plug. Walking about this town of 12,000 was easy, while driving to the beach in Hobe Sound or to bike Jupiter Island was just 10 or so minutes away.  
     Founded in 1894 as Salerno by settlers from the Italian town of the same name, the "Port" was added in 1924. Most people in the early years made their living by fishing commercially or working in the nearby pineapple farms. Today, the marine industry has taken the place of many commercial fishing establishments, though commercial and sport fishing are still key. 
     Days, as well as nights, were spent outdoors. Best of all, as time passed, I learned more and more about my hosts and enjoyed their company by the campfire, and during the last evening, over homecooked Indian food. The experience felt like days gone by – sharing space as well as a genuine interest in each other’s lives. 

I’ve now landed further south for the remainder of the year where the population has increased, the greenspace has diminished, and the stress level has risen. It’s time to regroup, close out 2024 to do lists , and begin pondering what 2025 may bring.