Tales from the Christensen Cruiser

I started my morning in Jacksonville by going to the auto parts store to pick up a heater blower motor that I had ordered. I might need a bit of heat or a defroster sometime. So I pick it up and decide to mount a switch to turn from running on gasoline to propane on the fly. It wasn’t past ten or so and it was already hot and sticky. One hundred percent humidity – tough to take for a northwest guy. I’m used to another kind of wet than this; the stuff that comes down from the clouds, not this oppressive stuff that just is. So I get it all put together with fancy high temperature goop and go to start the engine to test it out. It started right up and just about that fast there was a guy telling me my engine was on fire. I run to the back of the truck into the camper and get the fire extinguisher and run back to find the darned thing doesn’t work. The two guys standing there are doing just that – standing there. I scream for one of them to go in the store and get an extinguisher. Meanwhile, I take off my Salmon Beach tee shirt and smother the flames with it and it was out – mostly. The air filter continued to smolder until I got it off and drenched it. The fire was right around the distributer and spark plug wires, the temperature gauge sending unit, and some other wiring. The bottom line is that I got it out fast enough that nothing melted too badly, and the bomb that I am driving didn’t go off. Fairly scary, but everything worked out just fine – it just added a bit more patina to the engine compartment. (It wasn’t quite as exciting as the time when I was priming the carburetor on the 59 Reo schoolbus on the way to see the Dead and it backfired and my whole arm caught on fire. I’ll never forget the boys from the back of the bus sitting on a little knoll observing the operation applauding politely after I extinguished my arm. The only thing missing was cards with numbers on them. The good Dr. Beard got me to plunge my arm into the beer cooler ice immediately, and I came away from that mostly unscathed.) I ended up putting everything back the way it was and got on the road, heading west for the first time on the trip. That felt pretty good.

I took Interstate 10 for a ways and then headed south on highway 51 towards Steinhatchee, a town off the beaten path on the Gulf coast. At one point I stopped to get gas and there was a mini-mart attached, so I went to check it out. There was a huge rack of fireworks, the cheapest stuff I have ever seen, and nothing like what one can buy in the northwest. I spent less than twenty bucks and got about fifty bottle rockets, a huge package of firecrackers and a package of these huge M-1000s. I don’t know when I’ll use them, but I have “inventory” as Ib would have said. As I drove, it became clear I was in the South. I drove over the Suwannee river, complete with musical notes on the sign, and drove through Dixie county. Spanish moss was now everywhere hanging on the trees.

Once I got to Steinhatchee, I was on the west coast of Florida, and this time it was as I thought it would be, very isolated. I drove up along highway 361 and really didn’t find a place I liked. I did stop for a beer, and it was like going back in time. The place was full of smoke and smokers. I drank my beer quickly and got out of there before I choked. I’m just not used to that anymore. This state is pretty loose in a lot of ways. I saw a guy riding a Harley with no helmet and flip-flops for footwear. Crazy, but free.

I drove north to Dekle Beach and still didn’t find anywhere that looked like the spot, so I continued on, knowing the road would head inland shortly. I took a dirt road off the main drag and drove about ten miles on that and came to a little place with a small boat ramp by a creek, right by the ocean. I set up the camper and got the paddleboard and went for my first paddle in the Gulf of Mexico. It was a bit rough, but it was a nice paddle, very marshy and very shallow. It was a great spot with nobody around.

The next morning, some guys came to launch their boat and I saw them take off and it was much calmer, so I decided I would go out again. I paddled out the river and the ocean was like glass. It was also incredibly shallow – a foot deep or so for quite a ways. There were fish jumping as I continued out to deeper water. I then saw a pretty good sized fish, about a foot long or more, jump three times in a row, obviously trying to get away from something bigger. So here I am, alone, and I’m wondering what is down there looking for breakfast. The next thing I know there are three undulations in the water right beside me. To say I was freaked is an understatement, but as I looked I could see it was a manatee swimming right beside me. They are gentle vegetarian creatures, so it didn’t answer the question of who’s hunting for breakfast, so I headed back in, but it was one of those god moments that makes me feel like everything is going to be o.k. That everything is o.k. It was soooo cool, and I could see how sailors centuries ago imagined mermaids or sea serpents based on these creatures. With a little fog or darkness, one could imagine them being something else pretty easily.

Next day I drove out and hooked up with highway 98, the road that hugs the gulf into Alabama. I camped at Saint George Island State Park. I got in towards sunset, set up and headed out to the beach. There were red storm warning flags up, but looking out it didn’t look very rough to me, so I went out for a swim. The water is so warm here I can hardly stay out of it. White sandy beaches and warm water – heavenly. It was a bit of a hump to the beach from the campground, so I didn’t bring the paddleboard, but I got a wave or two bodysurfing. The next day I swam many times, and one time I was out and was surrounded by all these fish jumping and feeding. (This time they were around ten inches and were the hunters, not the hunted.) Cool stuff. That evening I walked out to the other side of the island facing the mainland and there were a bunch of dolphins frolicking in the water just off the beach. They were obviously just having fun, coming all the way out of the water, splashing and flipping over. It was a great show. I headed west the next morning…

The next place I headed for was Perdido Key, just about as far west as one can go in Florida. There is a Florida State Park on the key, which is day use only, and then a campground on the mainland called Big Lagoon State Park, where I set up the camper. About half of Perdido Key is part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore. I could get in to that with my very cool National Parks pass, which I bought for the whole year. WRONG. With our totally dysfunctional government shutdown, they are all closed down. Even the websites, though for the life of me, why they needed to shut the websites down is beyond me. How expensive can that be? Maybe the government could make a few less bombs or drones and save a few bucks that way. Nawwwww. That might even make some sense. Health care? Weapons? Where are our priorities? What did Ike say? Beware of the Military Industrial Complex? And he a republican general! I’d better not go off on that topic. Anyway. This whole National seashore is closed and the gates are locked. I have my pass though. So I got the paddleboard and hiked it down to the beach and paddled across the intercoastal waterway – a half mile across or so, and landed on the key. It’s only a couple hundred yards wide, so I walked across to the gulf side and there it was, one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen. And there was nobody there. I had the whole beach to myself. Quite a change from Rehoboth Beach! It was awesome. I had the added excitement of the possibility of the ranger coming along and citing me. I went in for a swim and as I did, a great blue heron flew in and watched me swim. I got out slowly and this bird kept coming closer and closer – very interested in me. So we hung out together. I went up to get a little sun and this bird came with me. Very cool. It had the most amazing yellow eyes, not to mention the huge beak, which would put a hurtin’ on anything it wanted to. I’ve never been so close to one. By now the sun was getting low, so I got the board and paddled back to the campground. I landed in a different place than I put in from, and put the board on my head and started walking. And walking. And walking. Long story short, I missed my turn and must have walked for an hour with the board on my head, and it is heavy enough to be pretty uncomfortable. So now it’s almost dark, I have a bathing suit on and I’m lost. I finally made it back after dark and collapsed with a nice bourbon on the rocks, probably an inch shorter from hauling this thing on my head. (The reefer in the truck makes a fine ice cube.) It was a nice analogy of taking the good with the bad, just like life. If you didn’t have those bad times, you wouldn’t recognize the amazingly good things when they happened. So the government shutdown worked in my favor this time. Having a whole National Seashore to myself was a blessing.

Onward to Alabama and Mississippi!

More soon.