February 11
Dinner at the home of Bob and Hildur Skaggs, Barb Saunders’ parents. Her brother Mike, his wife Ruth Ann, son Jonathon and Ruth Ann’s mother Dolores joined us. A nice evening with a nice group of people.
February 12
Rode the bike to Sanibel, an easy 12 miles to get there from the condo. Then came the causeway and its bridge. You probably would look at the bridge and say, “No problem.” YOU weren’t on a bike. I cursed quietly to myself a little and rode over onto the island. The causeway and bridge are perhaps a mile or so long, and it took nearly ten minutes to cross. Sanibel is a joy: a planned community that has kept as much of the island in its natural state as possible. Beautiful beaches, and a national wildlife refuge, the J. N. “Ding” Darling Nature Preserve. You just don’t find the myriad of t-shirt shops and fried clam shacks that you find elsewhere. Once on the island I got lost for a couple of miles then rode about eight more miles to get to Bowman’s Beach. According to my old BWC-mate Dawn Weber, who has visited Sanibel several times, Bowman’s used to be a nude beach. No more. I parked Ringo, looked around and decided that I would return. Bowman’s looked like a real beach, not a clam shack or sunglasses hut in sight.
February 13
Stayed in town, not much going on.
February 14
I stayed in for the morning and worked on my novel. Please look for it as soon as I attempt to e-publish when I get back to Grove City. I had found the local Skyline Chili joint, so I went there for lunch, then back to the Caloosa Y & R Club pool for a few hours. A group of Illinois and Kentucky farm families had commandeered the place for a get-together for the afternoon. We peacefully coexisted.
February 15
I went to Everglades City, about an hour and a half drive from Fort Myers. I booked an airboat ride into the ‘glades. Since I’m traveling alone, Captain Doug’s assigned me to an airboat with two groups of elderly people: a threesome from New Jersey and a couple from Virginia. Nice people, all. Threesome of pelicans alighted on the bow of the boat as we headed out. Funny, I don’t remember seeing them in the ticket line. Captain Greg, our pilot, took us out and through the mangroves into the swamp. He pulled a crab pot out of the water to show us the local crustaceans. Soon we were racing down alleys through the mangroves and into a pond, where we immediately spotted a fair-sized gator. Cap’n Greg estimated the beast to be eight feet long. The gator swam up to the side of our boat and eyed us for lunch. I got a couple good pictures of him/her, as Cap’n Greg said that you can’t tell the sex of one of the monsters from the surface, and that both males and females grow to at least eight feet. I suppose it is not polite to ask a gator if it is a he or a she. In another pond, Cap’n Greg stopped the boat to show us a family of raccoons that live at the edge of the water. He fed them cat food and they climbed onto the bow. As soon as we took off, the boat’s engine mightily backfired twice and failed to start. Greg pulled us to the edge of the mangrove, tied off and radioed in for another boat. We conversed as we waited, and I mentioned Greg’s decidedly un-Floridian accent. He admitted to being from central upstate Michigan. Cap’n Mike in another boat asked if we were okay, and then headed off with his passengers. Soon, T.J., a Florida cracker if there ever was one, pulled up with another boat and a tool box. We climbed aboard his boat and he stayed behind to work on the recalcitrant engine. All in all, a great experience.
I stopped at Susie’s Station, a restaurant on the Everglades City town circle, across the street from the town hall. I had lunch and snapped a few photos to prove that there simply isn’t much to Everglades City FL. It isn’t a city; it’s barely a town, but a neat little place.
February 16
Wrote all morning, then went to the pool. Two obnoxious New Jersey families, at different times, shattered the normal tranquility. Their young kids ran wild, screaming in the pool and running around trying to catch one or two of the billions of tiny lizards that occupy Florida. I think one of the younger boys must been named Jesus, because his older brother kept yelling, “Jesus! Did you see that freakin’ lizard! Jesus, catch the freakin’ thing, would you?”
I did not automatically assume these families were Garden Staters for any capricious reasoning. I heard one of the kids talking about returning to New Jersey and home later in the week and I spotted NJ plates on the other family’s minivan in the parking lot. So, my Garden State friends, ease up.
February 17
Took another bike ride into old, uptown Fort Myers. I observed the Caloosahatchee from the city’s riverside park, wandered the weekly farmer’s market, and rode around the memorial square. On the ride home, for the first time since I’ve been here, a motorist honked at me in anger as I rode southbound on McGregor. I picked up a very good area cycling map from a local bike shop that recommended riding on the sidewalks along McGregor. Automobile speed limits vary from 25 to 35 to 45 along the way. I chose to ride in the street, which is my normal Ohio riding practice. I wear a helmet complete with a small rear-view mirror, an obnoxious yellow reflectorized vest, and obey the posted traffic rules at all times. I pay keen attention to all the traffic around me, since they are in cars and trucks and I am atop Ringo. 99.9% of motorists perfectly coexist with me and share the road. That one gent, though…. As a cyclist, you grin and bear it. Don’t grin too long, or you’ll get bugs in your teeth.
February 18
I awoke this morning realizing that I had yet to spend time at a real Gulf Coast beach, so I packed a lunch, grabbed a beach chair and headed to Bowman’s Beach on Sanibel Island. The causeway and bridge were only tiny obstacles in the car. I found an empty spot on the beach, set up camp, and soon found myself among one Swedish couple and several families of Germans. Nearby was an American family whose father a.) didn’t want to sit or lay down because of the sand and b.) didn’t want to get into the water because it was wet. If that was the case, why the hell go to a BEACH! Also nearby were a grandma, her female acquaintance and her two granddaughters. The two early-teens girls a.) didn’t want to sit or lie down because of the sand, b.) begged grandma to take them to a McDonald’s they had spotted on the way to the island, and c.) wanted grandma to take them to the Dairy Queen they spotted on the island. I wish they all would have shut up and enjoyed the beautiful day on the beautiful beach.
February 19, 20, 21. Stayed in town, tooled around, looked at things. Florida traffic is very logical and fairly orderly. The traffic lights are long, but when they change, you will get through. U-turns are legal in most places, since the main streets in Fort Myers are at least four-lane thoroughfares. You have to make a U-turn to get to your destination if it is on the other side of the road. Simply drive an extra block, pull a U-ey, and get into the right lane to peacefully arrive at your destination. Ohio drivers would freak over that.
In all these days when it doesn’t seem like I do a whole lot, I usually plan a morning activity and return in time to spend two to three hours at the Caloosa Yacht and Racquet Club pool. I bake in the sun, read one of the numerous novels I found in Barb’s spare bedroom closet, and watch the elderly people do their water aerobics or swim their laps. When I heat up too much, I hop in, cool off, then go back to the novel. So dear friends, it’s not like I’m sitting around doing nothing all day.
February 22. Went to the Minnesota Twins training camp here in Fort Myers. I found it a relief that the major leaguers do things the same way we do them at Westland High School They just do them a lot better. I photographed Joe Mauer, the Twins All-Star catcher, also the American League 2009 Most Valuable Player. He’s 27 and just signed a contract for seven years and 145 million dollars. Read that again, folks. $145 MILLION. The Twins website says he’s primed to get to spring training and prepare for a good year, with the contract nonsense out of the way. He’s a Minneapolis native and wanted more than anything to stay at home in the Twin Cities. And he’s a BEAST! 6’5”, 230, and has a field personality that says, “Listen to me, boys. Here’s how we’re gonna do things.” And he probably seldom has to repeat himself. Watched an online video of an interview with him, and he seems to be a humble, friendly guy.
To the pool in the p.m.
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