Yachats to Gold Beach

We left Yachats, noodling slowly south. But before I go on, one noteworthy thing about Yachats that I neglected to mention: public wifi.

The town provides free wifi in many of the public areas including shops, the library, and who knows where else. No passwords (and no protection) but it’s available for anyone to use. More towns need to do this. It’s sometimes hard to find wifi when on the road, so this was a bonus.

Our plan was to drive a whopping seventy-five miles this day to Coos Bay where we would meet up with a friend. And yes, it took all day to get there.

First stop after leaving town was Neptune State Park and Neptune Beach.

Neptune State Park, S. of Yachats - see how blown back the trees are!
Neptune State Park, S. of Yachats – see how blown back the trees are!

Then the Muriel O. Ponsler State Park.

Loved the ripples in the sand at Muriel O. Ponsler Park.
Loved the ripples in the sand at Muriel O. Ponsler Park.



And of course, a few stops for lighthouses.

Hecta Head Lighthouse.
Hecta Head Lighthouse.
Umpqua Lighthouse. I love lighthouses.
Umpqua Lighthouse. I love lighthouses.

We lunched in Winchester Bay, a nice bay with about a thousand RVs parked around it. It was a bit overwhelming. Its saving grace was the sweet little bay where we found a houseboat-turned-restaurant and split a lunch of fish and chips followed by local ice cream.

Lunch on a floating restaurant in Winchester Bay.
Lunch on a floating restaurant in Winchester Bay.

And we met another little harbor seal.

Sweet little harbor seal.
Sweet little harbor seal.

Once we got to Coos Bay, we took a somewhat raggedy motel north of town in North Bend – the only place we could find that was affordable.

The bridge into Coos Bay area.
The bridge into Coos Bay area.

We checked in and left right away to meet up with friend Louise, whom we’d met a year ago in Bahia Kino. She’s a full-time RVer traveling with her two dogs. Before her traveling days, she had lived quite awhile in the Coos Bay area, so we knew we’d get a good tour.

After a pleasant but brief time with Louise (she had to get to her book group), we toured the coastal area a bit and the John Topits Park and Lakes then settled in for the night. We’d be up early to meet Louise and do some walking and roaming.


Old pier, Coos Bay.
Old pier, Coos Bay.


Morning came and with it came rain. Thankfully I had a rain suit (thanks, Christina!) so I was prepared. I knew I’d be fine in mist or drizzle but wasn’t sure I really wanted to be out in a serious rain. So what did we get? Serious rain. Perfect excuse for a breakfast of blueberry waffles (me) and biscuits and gravy (both Cinda and Louise). And by the time we’d finished, the rain was down to a heavy drizzle and we headed out.

We went west of town to Cape Arago, and wow! A drizzly walk through the trees to some lovely viewpoints, then back through the trees again.

Starting the trail during a drizzle.
Starting the trail during a drizzle.
The muddy trail at Cape Arago.
The muddy trail at Cape Arago.
Rough trail at times!
Rough trail at times!

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The trees were killed by cormorant guano.
The trees were killed by cormorant guano.

We made another stop on the way out of the area and saw hundreds of harbor seals and sea lions.


Cinda said they were like writhing maggots.
Cinda said they were like writhing maggots.

Then Cinda and I figured we’d better be on our way if we wanted to meet our goal of about seventy-five miles a day, so we said goodbye to Louise and headed south.


Bandon was our next stop for walking around. There we encountered a small community radio station that is totally operated via the internet.

South of town we stopped for more beautiful beach views including a view of Face Rock which has a long story, a Native American legend. The story is too long for here but is worth looking up.

Just south of Bandon, Oregon.
Just south of Bandon, Oregon.


Face Rock, Bandon, Oregon.
Face Rock, Bandon, Oregon.

After walking the kinks out, we continued to Gold Beach.

North of Gold Beach
North of Gold Beach
Gold Beach.
Gold Beach.


We awoke in Yachats to a gray, gray day. Amazingly, it was our first overcast day in the trip so far.

Undeterred, we had breakfast: fish tacos. Hey, why not? We then set out to roam the town.

Yachats, with only just over 700 people, has a sweet little community garden.
           Yachats, with only just over 700 people, has a sweet little community garden.

First up was hitting the beach.



Then we roamed the trails around town. Yachats trails are interesting in that there are a number of them that wander through town. They are (fairly) well marked and go up and down the hills as well as through the town’s streets.

On one of the Yachats trails.
                                                On one of the Yachats trails.


We did the hills first. Up, and up, and up some more! These trails started on the streets and then cut up the hillside between houses. Some of one trail we followed was simply a trail while other parts had been laid out as steps. Some people along the trail took great care to make the area welcoming and beautiful.

Yachats hiling trail - a welcoming place to sit awhile.
Yachats hiking trail – a welcoming place to sit awhile. 
Another welcoming place to sit.
Another welcoming place to sit.

We then went down, down, down into the town. Have you noticed that everything along the coast is up and down? Even our second floor room!

In town we popped into the local library and also found a small wetlands area.

Yachats wetlands.
Yachats wetlands.

By this time the gray day had turned into a light drizzle, but we kept on.

We visited the Devil’s Churn and a covered bridge.

The Devil's Churn in Yachats.
The Devil’s Churn in Yachats.
Another octapus tree?
Another octapus tree?
Notice the water in the blowhole on the left!
Notice the water in the blowhole on the left!

Eventually, we wore out and got chilly and a bit too damp, so we headed back to our sweet room and watched late afternoon turn to evening and sunset.

The next morning, south again!

Yachats dawn, last day.
Yachats dawn, last day.
Yachats hotel yard from our balcony.
Yachats hotel yard from our balcony.

Heading South

We left Sekiu and began the more leisurely part of our trip. The four-hour drive to Astoria, Oregon, took us around nine hours due to several stops and wanders.

But wait. Could it be? Could this be the very monkey tree that attacked our friend Lori?


Look familiar, Lori?

La Push, on the Quileute Nation, was our first stop.

La Push
                                                        The harbor at La Push.
First Beach, La Push
                       First Beach, La Push, where I saw my first big stacks (big rocks in the sea).

We saw a most beautiful sign there:

“Generation upon Generation the Salmon have returned to our waters offering themselves

That the Quileute people might live.

There was a time once not long ago salmon were many. Now they are few.

Generation upon Generation

The Salmon have helped the Quileute People.

Now the Quileute People must help The Salmon.”


A salmon even decorates the bus stop in La Push.

As we headed south again, Cinda noticed a sign that simply said “Big Cedar Tree” and of course we had to turn. Four miles later, we met the Grand Dame of the forest, an ancient cedar.


She is a Western Red Cedar and is 178 feet tall and nearly twenty feet in diameter.

Though she is a wonder, the visit left me a bit down. How is it all the rest of these ancient beauties were cut down? She is surrounded by forty-year-old trees that are not even a foot in diameter. How old could the Grand Dame be?


The remains of an ancient cedar.

Then on to Ruby Beach. Another beautiful spot!




But there is a little bad news.


We stopped in South Bend, Washington, which proclaims itself the oyster capital of the world. Big claim, but we did see a number of boats and cages used for oystering, and there were a few processing plants.


Finally, Astoria, where we checked into our motel then dashed out to do laundry. Ooh! Clean clothes!


The beautiful bridge into Astoria from the north. 

In the morning we each had an absolutely delicious breakfast panini at Coffee Girl, located in an old cannery building on Pier 39. The building on the pier is from the 1880s. The Coffee Girl breakfast worth the stop, and the cafe has the best view in town.



We also visited the cannery museum located there.

There was a gift shop, too. The oddest I’ve ever seen. Each item had a suggested donation rather than a price, and there was a can near the door in which to drop the donations. No staff. No closed door. Basic trust in human decency.

But the highlight of this stop – other than the fabulous panini – was the incredible sea lion viewing. There were sea lions everywhere! We must have seen at least a hundred, right by Coffee Girl.



We then attempted to visit the Astoria Column, a 125-foot tower commemorating those who settled the area. However, the Column was closed for a three-day minor restoration. We couldn’t even get close because there was roadwork happening, too, and the road up there was closed.


Had to settle for lovely places like this since we couldn’t see the Astoria Column.

So we headed south. We visited Cannon Beach and Seaside, both sweet little beach towns.






We stopped at many an outlook and wandered several beaches, including one that simply pointed to an arch.




We visited a lighthouse and an octopus tree.



We saw harbor seals.




We poked around in tidepools.

The whole trip was under 160 miles, but we managed to be “on the way” for about ten hours. Almost wagon train speed.


We got to our room in Yachats (pronounced YAH hahts), tossed a few things inside, and headed to The Adobe, a lodge/resort with a restaurant on the sea. Perfect ending to a wonderfully wandery day.



We left Port Townsend headed for Sekiu (SEE q) via Lake Crescent.

toward Lake Crescent

It was a day of beauty and wonder, yet there were several disappointments. Our first big stop was a ninety-foot waterfall. However, the road to the area was closed because the bridge was out, and we weren’t allowed to park and walk to the trail.


Mossy tree on the way to the waterfall we didn’t see.


Elwha River, on the way to the same elusive waterfall.


Our second big stop was another waterfall near Lake Crescent but the lady ranger said it was pretty much just a trickle this year. Not enough rain.

So we enjoyed one of the lake’s beaches and loved the beautiful drive.





We saw a lot of these signs along the way.

We stopped, too, in the campground at the west end of the lake and saw huge maple trees. Some towered above their conifer friends. I’d never seen such large maples.

On, then, to Sekiu with a few pauses for wandering and photos.



Cinda loves to skip stones, especially in the ocean. Gotta brag for her here: last year she was in Scotland and won the International Stone Skimming contest! I travel with winners.

When we got to our friends’ cabin in Sekiu, they whisked us away to Cape Flattery. It is the westernmost point in the continental US.

It was a brisk fifteen-minute walk through rainforest to the Cape. Down, down, down. And down.



At the Cape we were treated to the views and also to a special view: a gray (we think) whale was right near water’s edge feeding on some wonderful whale dinner treat.


The place was magical.

But there was another disappointment: my camera battery died. I got one shot and then had to use my phone camera which has a crappy zoom, hence the distant shots of the whale.





Then it was time to head up, up, up. And up.


Cinda found a slug.


And tried to hide.

Soon we were heading back to the cabin.


One of the many totem poles and paintings we saw

But on the way, another treat – a herd of elk!


Then a delicious dinner, lively conversation, and a great night’s sleep.

The next morning, beach time and a wonderful sunrise. More great conversation and it was time to head south.





What a lovely sunrise to send us on our way!


Days Four and Five: Port Townsend

Days Four and Five

We left Orcas Island reluctantly. There is such beauty there and many trails and coves to explore. But we took the ferry back to Anacortes and visited briefly in the town, then on to Whidbey Island via Deception Pass.

Leaving Orcas Island 

Deception Pass is a small channel separating Whidbey from Fidalgo Islands.


It is quite narrow, less than a quarter mile, so when tides are moving in or out, the water can be quite rapid, resulting in whirlpools and standing waves, both of which can be extremely dangerous to swimmers and kayakers.

What names up here! Skull Island. Victim Island. Deception Pass. History in names.

We headed south down Whidbey Island and were shocked by the noise of fighter jets repeatedly flying above us. Once we passed the naval air station at the north end of the island, the jets and noise disappeared. But following the absolute silence on Orcas, the jet noise had been especially disgusting.

South through Oak Harbor to Coupeville where we took time to wander the streets


A little food cart in Coupsville

and drop in on the local community radio station, an on-line only station.



Then we moved west to catch the ferry to Port Townsend. When we got there we found we could be delayed because two morning ferries had been cancelled due to fog, but we were able to board just about on time because we had a reservation. Some of those who hadn’t reserved were left behind.


Arriving at Port Townsend

The friends we were staying with met us at the terminal and guided us to their wonderful home with views of the Strait of Juan de Fuca.


All the mailboxes for the whole community are in one place.

After settling in, we headed immediately for the Wooden Boat Festival. All I can say is, WOW! Port Townsend is all about boats. Well, boats and beach. And more boats. There are several boat building companies and many people build their own boats. There is also a major boat repair and restoration company.


We downed some yummy clam chowder then began roaming the many docks, each one full of boats.




I think this little one was my favorite

Our host, Rod, built his own boat with a friend this past year, and it, too, was at the Festival.


We settled in for the night then spent part of the following morning strolling downtown.




Great street music!


Coffee, coffee, coffee – it’s everywhere!

Port Townsend has an extremely vibrant downtown, full of shops, restaurants, pubs, and museums. All were bustling. I absolutely loved the town. Beautiful historical buildings, a waterfront and friendly people.

After roaming the town we headed to the beach and two marine museums.




This beauty was in a tank in the marine museum.

Back to the house for fresh salmon and a beautiful sunset.


The next day we headed to Sekiu in search of Lori’s infamous monkey tree.


Goodbye, Port Townsend

Days One to Three

Our tip so far can be summed up in one word: beautiful!

Day One

We left Tucson in the pre-dawn dark for a drive to Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix and flew to San Francisco. San Francisco is huge, has atrocious traffic, and is gorgeous.


Cinda wanders one of the galleries at Sky Harbor Airport

We blasted right out in our little rental (a silver Toyots Yaris I named Pearl) and across the parched landscape of northern California.


We crossed Lake Shasta which is fed by snowmelt from a number of streams, Including Doney Creek, below. Likely, all the rivers and streams are much like Doney – nearly no water. We saw far too many that were bone dry, and trees along their banks were dead or dying.


The old sign on the bridge over Doney Creek just added insult to its trickle.


In the middle of all this drought, we passed by fifty miles – fifty miles! – of cropland, all planted. Much was in trees, and most of those were almonds, at a cost of one gallon per almond. No wonder the state is running out of water!

Mount Shasta was gorgeous! We caught glimpses of her along the route to Yreka where we spent the night.


The drive left me certain of two things. First, California’s drought is very real. Second, I need to plan a two-week visit to this gorgeous area. Highway 5 is not the way to see Northern California.

Best sign of the day: Guided Goose Hunting.

Day Two

Cinda and I awoke early to the sound of geese passing by. We did not tell them of the sign we’d seen the previous day.

We were off again before dawn to missed seeing the gorgeous mountains we passed through, but this was compensated by the brilliant star-filled sky and a sweet quarter moon.

Past Ashland, Eugene, and Grants Pass. For so long they have been words on a map, and finally I was able to place them in my mind. We stopped for gas in Grants Pass where the 58-degree temperature bothered our desert-warm bones, but locals were out and about in shorts.

We did a bit of noodling so I could catch some photos.


Then on through Portland and were in Washington State for lunch. Mount Rainier was buried in clouds, but we did see Mount St. Helen, her flat top exposed due to her last eruption.

We were in Edmonds, north of Seattle, in time for a lovely afternoon on the deck of Cinda’s friend, a fab dinner on the deck and a relaxing night’s sleep.

Day two left me certain that I needed much time up in the Northwest. Portland alone could take a week.

Day Three

And now the real fun began! A quick trip to Trader Joe’s and we were on our way to Anacortes, on Fidalgo Island. We hit a little drive-through coffee stand where I got a great espresso and a marionberry scone.

What is a marionberry? I have no idea, but it was fab in a scone.

We arrived early for the ferry and I put the time to good use.



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A forty-five minute ferry ride and we were on Orcas Island! We noodled a bit and joined up with another of Cinda’s friends for the night.



Leaving the ferry at Orcas Island

We toured the island even more with my new friend, including a drive up to Constitution. Gorgeous views from both part-way up and from the top.


These two were headed out in their kayak



The Olgas Post Office. We spent the night in Olgas, at the far side of Orcas Island from the ferry landing.

One highlight was a trip up Mt. Constitution. The views from the top were gorgeous.


That’s Cinda at the top of the tower.

And just as we were about to walk back down, the clouds parted and we finally saw Mt. Rainier! Except it turned out to be Mt. Baker. Oh, well!


After a lovely night in absolute island silence, we did a bit more roaming


and hopped the ferry back to Anacortes to continue our journey.

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Cinda and Emilie’s Great Adventure

I have had more than one adventure with my friend Cinda. Most have been small and somewhat tame. Not true of the road trip we took through Baja California, and hopefully this one won’t be so tame either.

       When we were in Baja California, we took a panga out onto a lagoon and got to pet whales!

We’ve packed a suitcase each and also stuffed seconds with sleeping bags and some camping equipment. Think air mattress. I am not twenty anymore! And Cinda even managed to cram a tent into her second bag.


Ready to zip ’em up!

We leave tomorrow, bright and early, for San Francisco. But we will not stay. We’ll grab our rental car and blast right out and up I-5 to Yreka where a motel and swimming pool await. It should be in the 80s when we arrive and that pool’s already calling to me.

On Tuesday we continue north on I-5 to Edmonds, Washington, a little north of Seattle, where we’ll spend a night with a friend of Cinda’s. The next day, on to Orcas Island via ferry and we’ll spend a night there. Then a few days and nights in Port Townsend (two ferries to get there!) and even a night in the village of Sekiu (pronounced SEE que), population 27 according to the last census.

Friend Lori claims she fell into a monkey tree (sans monkey) in Sekiu. We will have to look for such trees.

I tried in vain to place a map here that showed Sekiu. So here’s a photo I took of my AAA map. Sekiu is south of Vancouver Island and there’s a little red tent above it to indicate camping. It’s the one furthest to the left.


From there? Down the coast! Highway 1 and Highway 101 will carry us slowly back to San Francisco. Then we’ll take brief a look around the city.

Stay tuned for our adventures and lots of great photos!


Photo by Lori Anderson, the same Lori who fell into the monkey tree.

Apple Annie’s

On Saturday, I went on a little excursion with two friends, Lori and David. We decided to drive a few hours to Apple Annie’s Orchard for … guess what? No, not apples. They aren’t ripe yet. We drove all that way for PEACHES!!


We took the scenic route up, stopping briefly in the town of Cochise.


It is called a ghost town, but don’t tell that to the 1500 or so people who live in the area. There’s a Post Office, a school, and a closed inn. The Cochise Hotel was built in 1882 and was a rooming house for railroad worker. I believe there were only four or five rooms and I imagine the rooms each held two or three men back in the late 1800s.

As late as the mid-1990s, the last time I stayed there, it was a wonderful B&B operated by an older woman who cooked my breakfast wearing her worn robe and fuzzy slippers.

After visiting Cochise, it was on to Willcox then north about five miles, down a farm road and then a smaller farm road and then there we were: Apple Annie’s.

The mountains around it were rugged, rocky and beautiful!


The parking area was nearly full of cars, pickups and even a few RVs. People streamed into the area where there were several vendors including, of course, the big area full of peaches.


We were too late for the peach and pancake breakfast (all you can eat) and just a bit early for lunch (burgers grilled over apple wood). But we were just in time to wander through the orchard searching out the best, juicy peaches.


That part was a bit disappointing. The early birds had nabbed all the ripe peaches, so we had to pick some nearly-ripe ones. Frank, below, swears he was accompanied by a few other people, but I never saw them and firmly believe he alone stole all my ripe peaches.


Below, David and I are in the orchard.

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And of course, what’s a visit to Apple Annie’s without a visit to the store?

Sauces, salad dressings and salsas! Fresh butter! Peach vinegar! And then there were samples: I had some yummy fudge and so did Lori.



IMG_1178Lori caved and bought a peach pie. Thankfully, she invited me to come over the next morning for a pie breakfast. How could I say no?.

I passed on the ice cream, too, but had a sample and it was killer.


On the way home we went a different route, through the farming area known as Kansas Settlement. It hosts a pinto bean plant, Bonita Bean Company, that processes locally produced beans.


Down the road there is a ranch that raises calves for veal – not for me, thanks.


There are also many, many fields of corn. Hooray! The corn along with the water in the Whitewater Draw Wildlife Area is what lures thousands of Sandhill Cranes to our area each winter. They’ll be arriving in late October.


The Kansas Settlement area has gorgeous views every direction.



We stopped for a huge yard sale where Lori picked up several items and I bought a welcome sign to hang on my gate.


We watched the storm roll in as we headed home. It broke over us when we had about fifteen miles to go.



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Worth the drive, worth driving in the rain. My breakfast tomorrow will be another peach smoothie!

The Garland

I’m in Louisville, Kentucky, it’s the first weekend of May, and that means just one thing: the Kentucky Derby a.k.a The Run for the Roses a.k.a the greatest two minutes in sports.

I am not a sports fan and not a horse racing fan – I can’t stand it that each year a horse’s fragile leg will break and the beautiful animal will have to be put down. Not each year at the Derby, but each year during racing season.

That said, it’s exciting times here. There have been festivities for two weeks now – parties (think women in BIG HATS),


gatherings, alternative races (including the very alternative Run for the Rosé, as in wine.) local waiters and waitresses have to run a half-mile obstacle course carrying a tray holding six glasses of wine and not spill a drop.

But back to the Run for the Roses.

For the last twenty-eight years, the Garland of Roses, a beautiful garland 122 inches long and 22 inches wide, has been custom made not in a fancy florist shop but in a local Kroger grocery store. I found the Kroger was located just a few miles down the street, so I decided to go watch it being made.

Mob scene!


Hundreds of people streamed into and out of Kroger to watch the garland being made. They lined up for group and individual photos. The place was truly jammed.

I saw one harried worker and said, “Whew!” to her.

She nearly growled. “This is my fifth straight day.”

And it’s almost over.”

She grinned.

The first thing I noticed was the store was specially decorated for the event.



Also, right at the entryway were craftspeople selling Derby items.


But the garland.

It takes over 450 roses to make the garland. Each rose is in its own vial of water and is hand-sewn into the garland. The roses are bordered by greenery.


The backing is a forest green material with the Commonwealth of Kentucky’s Great Seal embroidered at one end and the Twin Spires of Churchill Downs embroidered at the other end of the fabric.

In the garland’s center is a crown of roses, and each corner of the finished piece is decorated with red ribbons. Below is a replica of the finished garland.


It takes eighty hours of prep work and then a team works another ten to twelve hours on Derby Eve assembling the garland. Those of us who came to watch were given some rose petals, too, from roses that hadn’t made the final cut.


Only perfect roses are stitched into the garland.



Shortly before the race, a special van carries the Garland of Roses to Churchill Downs with a full police escort.


At the end of the race, the winning horse (and the lap of the jockey) is draped with the beautiful garland.

And on to Key West

After spending the night in Key Largo, I walked across the street to the Cuban Café in the early gray drizzle and downed some great coffee and breakfast.

Cafe Cubano

Shortly after, I headed south on Florida Highway 1, across the Keys.


I realized again how absolutely flat Florida is. I swear, the highest point is an overpass.

I drove the length of the Keys, over all forty-two bridges connecting all forty-three islands. However, there are another nearly seventeen hundred not connected by the road.


Most of the Keys have the word “Key” in their names. Of those, all but two have the name of the island first: Plantation Key, Conch Key, Cudjoe Key. The two that have the word “Key” first are Key Largo, at the far northeast, and Key West at the far southwest.

In and out of rain, on and off of bridges. Some bridges were only a quarter mile long or even less but one was seven miles long. Some of the Keys are so narrow I could easily see water on each side of me. They were maybe fifty to sixty feet wide. No room for houses, stores or anything but the highway running down the center.

Others were much larger (relatively), a mile or two wide and several miles long.

Concrete power poles marched through the Gulf waters all the way south, occasionally hopping the road to the Atlantic side.


Gas prices marched with me too, going up almost fifty cents in less than one hundred mile – about half a cent per mile of roadway.

Key Largo today is just a strip of stores, restaurants, and motels. Traffic is heavy all day long. However, once a few miles south of Key Largo, the pace slows and it’s not all commercial. That held true to just north of Key West.

I passed a sea turtle hospital, a dolphin rescue center, a manatee rescue center. The more humans in the Keys, the more wildlife that needs rescuing.

On Deer Key, I decided to stop in at the local library. I turned at the sign but couldn’t spot it. I asked several people where it was but no one knew. All tourists? I surely hope so. It would be horrid to think the locals had no idea where their library was. I stumbled around until I found it myself.

There’s an odd thing about the Lower Keys: roosters. Roosters roam the side roads and the sidewalks and strut about on people’s front porches. I asked many about the roosters but no one could tell me their story, just that people aren’t supposed to feed them – but everyone I spoke to did feed them. Just a little, they all said.

It’s odd to wander about and hear roosters crowing and to run into them repeatedly. And they all look pretty much the same.


Some of the 1700+ islands in the Keys – with no roosters.

I did some research and found the roosters were brought by Cubanos for cock fighting. After it was outlawed, the birds just went wild. There is now a major battle going on between the pro and anti rooster groups. Some want them rounded up and either contained or killed. Others say hey, that’s just the way it is down here. Part of the culture.


I arrived in Key West in the early afternoon. The sign said this:

Welcome to Key West

Paradise USA

Highway 1 split at the entrance to Key West – Highway 1 to the right and A1A to the left. Highway 1 went into town, A1A to the beaches. Guess where I headed first?

At the southernmost point on Key West, I stood in the water and faced Cuba, just ninety miles away. I couldn’t spot it, but on a clear day from a second or third floor, can people see the island? It was particularly interesting to gaze toward Cuba knowing that in just a few weeks it will be legal to travel there.

04-beach toward Cuba

Havana Daydreaming (thanks, Jimmy Buffett!)


I tore myself away from the almost-warm water and headed back to Highway 1 and into the historical district. Parking is at a premium, so I paid to leave my car in a town parking garage and roamed.


Many tourists checking into inns and motels had to do the same, so I saw many dragging their suitcases along the sidewalks.


Beautiful old homes.



Some were still decorated with holiday wreaths or lights, and the remains of Christmas trees lay in the trash in a few spots. How out of place it all looked in the warm (80 degrees) balmy weather!


People rode bikes and scooters. Others sat on their front porches. Roosters roamed.

I ran into one traffic jam comprised of cars, bikes, scooters, pedestrians, a tiny two-seater electric vehicle, and a man on a bike attached to a small vending cart. And a dog.


One more odd thing: The main road into the historical area is Roosevelt Avenue which closer to downtown becomes Truman Avenue. Most main cross streets also had two names, one going each way off Roosevelt. The most interesting one to me was the one that had Eisenhower Drive going one direction, and in the other direction, the road was named for Cuban revolutionary leader José Martí!

I returned to Key Largo just in time for a fabulous sunset.


And oh, yeah. I got the bumper sticker.