The Wilderness Of Things That Need Some Explaining Pt 2

Wednesday was a day driving of going down endless intersecting dirt roads, and at one point I was 100% sure of where I was going...and I was wrong. Jeeps are just amazing in that they seem to like going places that would have killed other vehicles I've owned. When I first bought the Jeep, I pretty much thought I would be the guy that had fun owning one, but never actually getting in a situation where I needed 4 wheel drive. My brothers made sure that was not the case, and right off the bat there was "Do you think I can make it? Hold my beer!". Then we took out the bikes and rode another trail for hours until we figured we could follow the power lines and somehow end up back near our campsite. Paul was our scout, and the crazy guy had not seen Paul before, so he rode through the area, and saw the guy yelling into his phone that he was being attacked by Jeepers and they need to get a ranger out here now! We decided to spend some more time riding around and perhaps venture back late in the day. I was suggesting that perhaps we should camp in Paul's driveway, while Steve kept pulling out his gun and seeing if there were any bullets in the clip, sort of the way I keep checking my back pocket to make sure I brought my wallet. Meanwhile, Paul is talking about how this is turning into the best trip in recent history, and we haven't even set up tents yet!

We rode until our butts wore out from the bouncing, and finally decided around 3:30 to see if the guy was ever going to leave. He was gone, but now the other sites were full. There were still embers in the campfire, and as a weird sidenote..that fire was going the whole time we were there. I'm not sure about much else with that strange guy, but he was a hell of a fire starter.

We got our stuff set up and sat around the fire discussing meals, politics...nowadays we start with "Not to be political, but...", and what kind of crazies are in these woods. I remembered that my Dad spoke of camping solo in Ocala and the large group of Rainbow people up there. About that time, I started noticing a single character walking around the 3 campsites, as if looking for something. Strange manner of dress for this place. He/it was wearing tight clothes like you might wear for skiing and a headpiece that totally had no features. It looked like a giant black sock with no holes for eyes or mouth. I was more than a little bit freaked out, but Steve said it was probably mosquito netting, while he tightened his grip on his shoulder holster. Me, I was looking for signs of some kind of giant sword or knife. After a while, he was gone and I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. The guys did not seem worried, and Paul said what we really need is a night ride in the woods! Yeah....I don't know about that, but I had a whole different problem, because as we pulled our bikes out to ride, I realized I had a big flat tire. They rode off while I sat at the campfire, content to work on my bike, none of the worries of real life, and pretty sure that SquidGames boy wasn't coming back in the dark...or at least I wouldn't notice it if he did. 

I fixed that tire in record time, pretty good considering I was working with a flashlight and strange noises in the bushes from time to time....Guys? Is that you? No answer...but there was this glowing pink circle floating in the woods, it almost seemed as if it was slowing making it's way towards me. I quickly grabbed a bicycle tire tool in defense...not really sure if that was going to stop an alien...
 

The Wilderness of Things That Need Some Explaining Part 1

 

I sat back for a minute in my Walmart campstool and wondered just how many things could go sideways in one short trip. The three brothers in adventure were trying something totally new: Primitive camping in a state forest. Yes, there were designated sites, with a picnic table and a fire ring for campfires. Bathroom facilities? One community Port-o-let, shared by the 5 campsites. Unisex, you might ask? Well, if a woman ever ventured out in these woods, she wouldn't be the kind to stand in line for the ladies room in a bar while the mens room stood empty.

Perhaps I should concentrate on the things that went right. We all have jeeps, and great electric mountain bikes, and weather that any northerner would give their paycheck for right now. It was cold enough to wear a light jacket and sleep easy in a good sleeping bag in a tent, after enjoying a roaring campfire. The Cedar Creek Campground really seemed like a place nobody could ever find, but I did find it with google, after ignoring Siri's constant suggestion that I try the Cedar Creek Campground up in Middleberg....either Siri has a quirky sense of humor or she doesn't know that Middleberg was having some serious non-camping weather.

My first day started off awesome, with little idea of what was ahead. I was rolling down A1A, taking the scenic route with the top off, once it warmed up enough. The tide was high and the waves were big with really clean faces from the light offshore wind. I was sipping on my second cup of coffee when Steve called to let me know that he was on the way as well and soon we could meet at the entrance of the state forest. I pulled off the main highway onto a dirt gravel road, and mere seconds from civilization, I was already missing running water, electricity, and toilet paper, and I hadn't yet reached the campsite. Right off, I ran into a snag. The gate was locked with no attendant, and another guy was letting himself in...I walked over and he made the sign of the cross and said I needed my own code...he drove off before I could even reach Paul on the phone and figure out what the deal was....it was all handled on the internet and somehow he didn't check his email or something and eventually we got a code. Once in, I was driving down two ruts with grass growing up...so what was back here that needed us locked out?

About thirty minutes later, Steve and I met up and found our campsite. The only problem was that somebody was in it. We found a empty site and sat down to soak in the peace and quiet until it was our turn to set up.  It was surprising that so far from anywhere that only one site out of four was unoccupied on a weekday morning..who are these strange people that want nothing but to park somewhere in the woods? That was a question I probably should have asked before now because, a tall, lean man that looked to be in his fifties, came stomping out of site 4, heading towards Steve saying "What are you looking? Why are you looking at me?" I had visions of characters from the movie "Trainspotting". He was as angry as any drunk I've ever seen in a bar, right before a fight. As he strode towards my brother, his hands were clawing at his flannel shirt as if his muscles could no longer be contained within the fabric.  Steve stood his ground calmly, trying to de-escalate the situation, saying soothing things like "No worries, we were just trying to figure out which campsite is the one we are supposed to get". My mind was racing, either the guy had a knife in his waistband and would get Steve before I can even make out the words, or Steve karate's the guy into the hospital, or worse..guns come out. At the minimum, I'm thinking the rest of the week will be spent in the Sheriff's office while they grill us one at a time for our stories. "Yes sir, I would like a cup of coffee with cream...and I'll take one of those cigarettes too, just in case I need something to barter with in the big house".

We decided to drive off and figure a new gameplan. Steve had his gun out, showing me his new clip that holds 30 rounds...I marvel at it while wondering if I would still keep firing at a zombie, or meth-crazed lunatic if the first 8 shots didn't do the job. I was thinking, game-over, dude! Even if we could trust the guy would leave when he was supposed to..how could we be sure that he wouldn't come back at night and do the Easy Rider on us? Steve is discussing shifts, taking turns on guard duty, making sure that each us of had a loaded gun and were ready to take on the enemy...I was thinking how unprepared I was for this and a little bit worried about how prepared Steve was.

Finally Paul showed up and we shared the story with him. Far from thinking we might need to camp somewhere else, his eyes got a little twinkle and he said This trip just got interesting...."

Ollie And The Tribute To The Worst Campsite In The World

 

 As is usual, I was griping about how we haven't been camping for a real long time, and Pam declared once the state cools down enough to sleep without sweating, she's ready to consider some time in the woods. Unfortunately, everybody in Florida, in addition to everybody that owns a camper up north agreed with her assessment. 

I opened up my browser and started searching for open campsites at all of my favorite campgrounds. Yep, everything is booked up everywhere. I always hoped for the day I would retire and be able to do stuff on weekdays when everything wasn't so crowded...little did I know that millions of people were retiring when I did and had similar plans. I did find some spots, maybe not the best campsites, but at least we were out in the wild. At this point in time, I did not truly comprehend that I was perhaps, one of the less informed camping enthusiasts in the area. We arrived at Fort De Soto County Park merely moments after the allotted time, to find a long line of RV's waiting to check in...on a Monday!!! I finally get our ticket and head to our designated spot...or 'pitch' as the Brits have it. Although Pineallas County calls it a camping space, site 119 is more like the parking space for the bathrooms. And we spent our downtime in folding camp chairs, watching the coming and going of folks as they came to do their business. There was nothing like cooking supper at the picnic table while I listened to the gentle sounds of toilets flushing nearby. Ollie, however, didn't mind this at all. He gave a rousing bark to every person that walked by, and a couple of extra barks for any kid that decided to ride a bicycle past our camp.

I will write this site number down so I don't forget this special trip. I can't say that this was the worst campsite in the world...but it was a Tribute.

Camping With Pam & Ollie -The Next Thing I Need To Buy

 It is possible that I was wrong. There I've said it, and we can now all move on. Pam has, for over forty years now, insisted that I care too much what other people think. Actually, I just would prefer to come off as 'someone that knows what he is doing'. I can't speak for the women of this world, but probably a whole lot of men consider when bringing their wife camping or fishing means to them....that time when you have to back a trailer up..and your wife is helping. 

We have done this a few times before, and we owned a boat for years, so it isn't like  we don't know anything about trailering. And, Pam is great at driving the van, she can weave into little spaces at the Farmer's Market like it's nothing....but a pressure situation at a boat ramp or campsite? 

Phrases like "No! Your Other f...ing Left!" just roll out like nobody is listening, and we aren't drawing a crowd already. I know durn well that there are 90 year old men and women around us that could back in a 40 foot motorhome like it's nothing, and here we are looking like greenhorns.

My very next purchase is going to be a set of walkie talkie radios so Pam can whisper her words of endearment concerning my lack of ability to translate what she says into the correct actions. She says this won't help much because she will shout into the radio anyway. We finally got into the spot once I remembered that I had a backup camera...but I'm still getting those radios!

Food for thought...what if people are not gathering to laugh, although I have witnessed that, but to feel sympathy? Later that same day, while out walking Ollie, we had to stop because a large motorhome came to a halt and put its backup lights on. An older woman jumped out of the passenger side jumped out and the yelling began. The driver put it in park, turned off the motor, got out and invited the woman to get in the driver's seat....now why didn't I think of that?

The Boys, the Bikes and the Broken Part 4

 There is something that us Florida people don't think about much. I should have remembered it from my backpacking experience in the mountains of the Appalachian Trail: If you have a nice long downhill, pretty soon you will have an extreme ascent to follow. 

In this instance, we had spent hours climbing down this steep face of clay, rocks and weeds, hoping that somewhere ahead there would be a gentle path of overhanging trees and a nice wide trail of pine needles. We finally did come to something like that. It was a T in the trail. To the right, it appeared that the trail was going to go straight back up that mountain, and to the left there was a sign that said "Horse Stables".....Steve ventured the idea that we could ride to the horse stables, find a way to town, get lunch and then think about how we could ever get back to camp....I was all in for the lunch part, and wasn't looking too far into the future. Meanwhile, Paul was eyeing the straight up trail, wondering if he could make it and get GoPro footage to prove to his biking friends that just because you are riding an E-bike, doesn't mean you're a wuss.

The majority ruled, and soon we were on gravel, passing a barn, and a house, horses, and a lady that ran out yelling "don't y'all know you're on private proverty!?" Paul explained that we were some elderly brothers that got lost on the trail and were trying to find our way home....somehow I felt like he had a lot of experience of explaining his way out of jams...

She yelled out some directions on how to get back to the campground...while I was still wondering of the town of Chatsworth had a decent BBQ place with picnic tables outside.

The lady chased us down in her truck, but Paul really won her over and she made sure we found the right way back to the campground (or made sure we got off her property).

You ever been on an old country road that corkscrews for miles up to the top, and find some crazy bicyclist trying to pedal up that road? Yep....that was us.

The Boys, The Bikes And The Broken Part 3

 

We were really excited about doing some real mountain biking, and there actually was a trail that started right near us in the campground. Unfortunately, the trail looked more like the place water runs downhill after a good rain...steep and full of clay and rocks. Nobody got hurt, but Steve was thinking it was a good possibility, while Paul's eyes were glowing with the prospect of real danger ahead of us.

Once we got past the first 15 minutes of tough stuff, it turned into something more like a path a person would hike for fun and we all were enjoying it. There were pull-offs where you could view spectacular landscapes that you usually only see while backpacking. It seemed like the ride was over too quickly and we headed back to camp to plan a REAL ride for the next day.

We ended up finding a 17 mile trail that went way off into the wilds, and I started getting a little concerned that the farther we rode in, the more difficult it would be to get out if something went wrong. There were even notifications about specific places on the trail where you could get airlifted out if something went wrong...that should have been warning enough....but Paul's eyes were really glowing at that point.

We started early the next morning, and it took a bit of trouble to find the trailhead. We had to go several miles down a dead-end road and the go past a sign that said "No Admittance".  We knew we were at the right place because there was a large sign on a tree that said "Warning: Advanced Riders Only Beyond This Point".

3 hours later, I was pretty sure we were going to need that airlifting spot...It was straight downhill rocks, us walking our bikes with the brakes on full, while the bikes were trying to go on without us. Paul was certain that something was wrong and the motor was tugging his bike...but even with the battery off, he could barely hold it back. I kept thinking "Man, the only way out of this place is climbing right back up that mountain that we could barely walk down...how are we going to do that?"

We argued and looked at how much food and water we had, not even counting all of the black bear warning signs we saw....then Steve had an idea...it was a great idea...doesn't mean it wasn't painful though...

 

The Boys, The Bikes, and the Broken Part 2

 

I learned many things on this trip. Number one would be: don't bring too much stuff. We were packed into one camper and we had gear coming out of our ears. The first morning we spent at Fort Mountain, Paul and Steve went into town to get a propane tank so we would not have to eat peanut butter sandwiches the rest of the trip. That trip to town required both of them because Paul, in spite of his healthy food obsession, had a jones for a fountain coke like nobody else...a bottle of coke would never do, and he really hoped for crunchy ice.

I had a few hours alone to reflect on how quickly my body decided that 70 degree temperature was just about right for t-shirt, shorts and flipflops. It still seems strange that I got used to the lower temp so fast, while I'm still struggling with re-acclimating to the Florida swamp days after I got back home.

Food-wise, it was a constant struggle for me. Steve, the grillmaster always had more meat going on the grill than my family would eat in a week. There is some part of me that must have once been a starving beggar in Medieval times, because when Steve would say "Do you want two 1/2 pound hamburgers or only one?" Why in the world would I turn down an extra hamburger in the woods where I might left alone starving on the trail that same day?! And this went on for almost a week...3 times a day.

Paul, on the other hand, was disdainful of all of the meat and instead brought his special concoctions that he made himself from all organic ingredients, where the cost of making the food was no object. So, we have a tupperware box full of Chocolate chip cookies and granola bars that tasted better than the brownies we get for a once a month treat at home....by the way, that box of granola bars was so big, that even with me holding the box in my lap....we didn't finish it off until the last day of the trip.

 Me, I brought vegetables, if baked beans count as a vegetable, and some other stuff that never got used, because there was some much better food to eat.

Thank God, we were out on the trail most of the days. My heartrate averaged about 135bpm while riding, and if you think that an electric bike makes things effortless, there is always the prospect of riding full blast into a tree, falling in the rocks, or at the least, running out of juice and having to push a 70lb bike uphill to get back to camp. What those bikes do is make it where you can actually pedal that 70 pounds uphill in a place that you couldn't pedal a regular mountain bike for very long. Downhill? That same heavy weight became a juggernaut and we soon learned if we wanted to ride in the mountains, we needed much better brakes! I can repeat something you probably already know: that no matter how long and hard you exercise...a bad diet beats good exercise every time!

Next up: We find out why we never saw anybody else out riding on the trail...