Sarah Too

Ft. Desoto is a beautiful spit of land at the south end of Pinellas County, Florida, and it is one of my most favorite places in St. Pete. When I first moved to St. Pete, North Beach was a place where I could mentally sort things out, while I walked the shoreline at sunset. It is amazing to watch the clouds move over the land, out towards the Gulf of Mexico.

Because of the beauty of the beaches, and the availability of an extensive bike path, of kayak rentals, and of bicycle rentals, the camping sites at this park are frequently in high demand, especially as the winter approaches. So, when a friend of mine decided to book a campsite for September back in June, I jumped at the chance to go camping again. The last time I went camping was November 2007 (but I guess, technically, I camped last this June when I hiked the Inca Trail).

At Ft. Desoto people clamor for the waterfront tent sites, so booking so far in advance got us a beautiful view at sunset, shade during the day, and some seclusion from the main vehicle thoroughfare of the campground. I arrived at the campsite after work on Friday night -- my car filled with my tent, camp chairs, backpack, groceries, and cooler. (Hike-in backpacking/camping trips are fun, but sometimes, a little car camping, right in your own backyard, is more relaxing.) Ft. Desoto is only 20 minutes from my house, and the 7-11 is only 5 minutes from the camp site, in case desperation truly sets in!

Friday night Heather and I set up camp. Her with her townhome tent (seriously, this thing was a 3-bedroom pop-up apartment), and I with my two- or three-person dome tent. (I would go with calling it a 2-person tent, but I think it's technically a 3-person tent to the manufacturer.) My tent had been rolled up for so long that it had a) moved from Fairfax, VA to San Diego, CA (thereby meaning it had spent 4 years in storage, at least); b) made the flight from San Diego to St. Pete last Christmas; and c) stuck to itself as I went about unrolling it! Poor little tent...I had even forgotten what you looked like, fully-assembled!! Behold, the lil' beauty:

Fortunately, the weekend weather was just perfect for camping! The days were hot and sunny, with a cool breeze, and the nights, thankfully, dipped down in the 60s. It was cool enough that I slept like the dead. It was not cool enough to have the rain-fly over the tent, but the weather cooperated there, too. No rain the whole time!! And my lil' tent had enough screen to keep the breeze coming through all night.

After setting up camp on Friday evening, our friend Ryan joined us, we stoked the grill to make cheese quesadillas and chicken, and from our picnic table we watched the sun set over the water:

I don't think it can get more beautiful than that...(Well, it can if, on the radio, you listen to the Rays win against the Minnesota Twins, which moved them one game closer to the play-offs. Go Rays!)

Saturday, Heather, Ryan, and I woke up not-too-early, considering that the sun rises around 7ish these mornings. It gave us enough time to eat a little breakfast -- banana with peanut butter and a Nutri-Grain bar..no coffee :-( -- before heading off to the International Coastal Clean-Up Day, sponsored by Tampa Bay Watch. Heather and I slogged along the road leading into Ft. Desoto park, and tramped deep within the mangroves, to pick up the trash that people chuck out of their cars, or that washes up on shore (after people chuck trash off their boats). I think I personally picked up a case of empty beer cans. I also picked up a knife. Others found a large rug, or boat carpet, which when you pair that with the knife I found...paints a bit of a CSI-like picture, doesn't it?

That morning adventure took about 2 hours, and quite a bit of sweat, but Keep Pinellas Beautiful rewarded us with a free lunch of hot dogs and cold drinks, as well as some chotchke give aways. Anyone want a neon yellow t-shirt? Anyone??

Fortunately, the campground at Ft. Desoto boasts awesome shower facilities. [I gotta tell you -- I had a little residual trauma leftover from the Inca Trail when it came time to climb in the shower. In Peru, you never quite knew the quality of the bathroom facilities that you were stepping into, whether it be a hostel or the one shower stop we had along the Inca trail. Regardless of the situation, you never really wanted to come in contact with the walls, much less the floor, and I always felt the need to get my shower over with quickly, just in case the hot water faltered.] Back in the good ol' over-consuming, bigger-is-better U-S-of-A, though, showers at a campground, especially this campground, are just what you need them to be: clean, hot, and wonderfully refreshing. Sorry if I just gushed a little there, but I love me a good shower, particularly after spending a long morning picking up other people's trash in the hot sun.

After our showers, Heather and I got ready for the beach. And then we sat on the beach, or floated in the ocean, for 5 gloriously long hours. Friends came and went, magazines and books were read, floats were blown up and deflated, and sunscreen was applied and reapplied. When we returned to camp, we cleaned ourselves up once more, and then felt the wonderful exhaustion of a day well-spent on the beach.

As we had the night before, we turned on the Rays game and stoked the grill for dinner. After dinner, we created a campfire in the grill because we didn't have a freestanding metal firepit with us and there are no firepits at any of the campsites. Our ghetto campfire still gave me a great moment of zen:


I'm still learning how to play with my little point-and-shoot camera, and even though the photo is grainy, it still manages to capture a little bit of the fading sunset, and the crackle of the fire. The icing on the cake: the Rays clinched a playoff position by beating the Twins again. YES! I celebrated with a Hunt's chocolate pudding snack pack...

Saturday gave us another gorgeous sleeping night. Again, I slept like a rock. I did not, fortunately enough, sleep ON a rock. YAY! On Sunday morning, we packed up camp after breakfast. I hit the 7-11 on the way off the island, then drove over to St. Pete Beach at Pass-A-Grille for a nice morning walk along the beach before heading home.

Parting notes: Talk about a stay-cation! For $30/night, this campsite rocked. #47 if you ever want to stay. It was such a relaxing weekend, and I didn't have to fly anywhere or drive more than 20 minutes. Plus, I even did some civic duty by cleaning up our beautiful shoreline. If this doesn't entice you to come stay with me for a long weekend, then I'm sorry, you're just a lost cause!

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I haven't stepped foot in an airport, or driven farther than 50 miles from home, since returning home to Florida on July 17th. So why am I posting on my (travel) blog? Well, not all travel is international, or even interstate. Sometimes, the voyage takes place without going anywhere -- not even out your front door. To be honest, it does feel a little strange not to be fervently packing and unpacking my bags for another trip away. In fact, I'm already feeling restless for another trip. Fortunately, Labor Day weekend and my employer have a cure lined up for me...

Back to what I was getting at before -- the domestic voyage. The destinations and scenic vistas of the domestic voyage are the ideas and plans one entertains when given enough time at a routine. My routine consists of listening to the alarm go off, pressing the snooze button for an hour (plus), getting up, making the coffee, going to work, coming home, watching the boob tube in one form or another (DVDs, the Olympics, the CW), going to bed, then starting the whole thing over again. I'm not upset with my routine. It's been a nice reset period following the intense momentum of a few months of pack, travel, unpack, repeat. I reacquainted myself with my apartment, my workplace, my town, my relationships, my grocery store. It gave me time (finally) to achieve the milestone of open water SCUBA certification, to install a dishwasher, to go to the movies. And it gave me time to think and to be bored. That's right. This summer vacation, I got bored. And that's pretty cool. Seriously! Now, I never called Mom to ask for ideas on what to do, because I (or someone I know) invariably came up with SOMETHING amusing (or something broke or needed to be taken care of -- grown-up style); however, the dull hum of routine and boredom was necessary.

Now, I am ready for "the next big thing." ("Big" is a relative term.) In the long term, that means some changes with my job, and some more international and interstate adventures. In the short term, that means ramping up training efforts for the upcoming road race running season, especially since deciding to run both the Phoenix and Atlanta Half-Marathons with my cousin in early 2009. And in the here and now, that means enjoying the domestic voyage to become a wiser, stronger, more tolerant human being.

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After a week of coral research overload and hob-knobbing, I flew towards my most favorite place in the world - The 1000 Islands of the St. Lawrence River in Northern NY. For a few days I was living on River time in my true hometown with good friends and my family. My parents rented a fantastic cottage with a huge screened-in porch overlooking the main U.S. shipping channel on the south side of Wellesley Island.

Our days were filled with reading, relaxing, games, good food, and much laughter. My best friend provided us with brown lake trout and venison sausage as a basis for my brother's culinary masterpieces. The rented house provided us with board games like Trivial Pursuit and Password. And the River provided us with many hours of entertainment and peaceful contemplation.

Even after all these years, the ships moving up and down the channel still give me a thrill. I still wonder what is on board, and I still take note of whether the ship is riding high or low in the water.


Our first day at the cottage was HOT and cause for us all to jump into the "refreshingly cool" River. After floating the 86 degree salty Atlantic Ocean, the 72 degree freshwater River was small shock to the system, but it felt so good! That is of course, if you keep moving when you first jump in (there is no wading)...

The second day was a bit more...temperate, with rain showers all through the night and through a good part of the day. We visited the Boldt Yacht House, and Boldt Castle. I saw the Castle last year, and there always seems to be something new to see each time I visit. The skies finally cleared in the late afternoon, so the girls took at walk over to T.I. Park. After a little playtime on the see-saw and the swings, it was time for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres.

My last full day was filled with a lazy morning, then an afternoon jaunt to Cape Vincent and Clayton. Tibbett's Point lighthouse is always a favorite, as is the newish favorite -- the Lyric Coffee House in Clayton. For dinner, we ate out (since we demolished the trout and venison sausage). I had a delicious stuffed-chicken dish at Hacker's at the Thousand Island Country Club. Our table could have been less "plastic fold-out with inconveniently-placed legs," but the food was fantastic, as was the sunset.

In the morning, I had to leave. After two weeks on the road, work and my day-to-day life were beckoning. I didn't want to leave my friends or family, though. It was so nice to spend time with them all, and I didn't want it to end. It was a tough ride to the Syracuse airport, as my best friend and I tried to enjoy remaining time together. It had been a year since we last saw each other and I dreaded that my departure meant another year would go by before our next visit...

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Immediately after a weekend of Key-razy fun with the gals down in the Florida Keys, I headed up to Ft. Lauderdale for the 11th International Coral Reef Symposium (ICRS). This was one of the largest conferences I have ever attended and there were scientists, natural resource managers, and policy-makers from all over the world crawling all over the Ft. Lauderdale Convention Center. About 2,500 of us filled the entire convention center with presentations and posters. There were many good talks given, and it was difficult picking out which ones to attend. I don't know how the organizers coordinated the scheduling of over 10 concurrent topic sessions! I definitely filled my brain with plenty of new knowledge and I felt the squeeze of all that information overload by Friday afternoon...

Not only did the conference enlighten me, I also got to visit with friends from my graduate school days in Miami. And oh, how I missed all you guys!! We had an alumni get-together at Southport Raw Bar, where the beer runneth over and mini key lime pies were delicious. The next night, we had more fun together at the exceptionally tasty vegan restaurant, Sublime. I'm all about the Sublime Picatta, which comes with grilled asparagus, olive oil whipped mashed potatoes, and lemon caper sauce. I'm usually sold on an entree when I see the word "capers." I love those tasty, salty little things!!

Thursday night was the closing banquet for the conference, which is another way of saying "PAAAAAARTY!!!" Charles Darwin even made an appearance, making it an official nerd-fest. No worries, I just got myself another frozen rum runner to make myself feel less nerd-a-rific. Seriously, people....DARWIN??? I would bet that man wasn't even cool when he was alive....

After the plenary session, morning talks, and lunch on Friday, I flew the coop for Syracuse, my entry point to an all-too-short vacation on the St. Lawrence River with family and good friends. Say good-bye to new coral reef science, Darwin (UGH!), and say hello to vegetating...again!
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Trip Stats:
"Free" schwag (= AWESOME): Metal (reusable) water bottle, canvas briefcase, reusable grocery bag, 18 month calendar of coral
Number of times I nodded off during a session: I would NEVER! (....at least 3 times)
Cups of coffee for the week: clearly not enough (see above)
Number of times no one recognized me: At least 5 (I'm still not wearing my name tag around my neck, people)
Number of times I got hit on by a room service waiter: 1 (No, I don't have a saltwater aquarium, Dude)

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If you're going to do the Florida Keys, you might as well make sure that the trip is in your face! Thus, make sure you have matching beverage cups and t-shirts, copious amounts of alcohol, and the appropriate flotation devices. Oh, and also make sure you go with a bunch of fun-loving gals...with no-less-than-perfect nicknames. The Righteous Hottie, The Captain, The Other One, The One, The Task Master, The Voice, and I headed down to Marathon on Wednesday, July 2 with one objective - one hella good time on America's beautiful birthday weekend.

Upon arrival at Ralphie's Place, a tradition began: At least one thing must go wrong upon arrival. Last year, it was the dead rat (a.k.a. Ralphie) found in the hinge of the fold-out sofabed. This year, it was the toilet that decided to flush onto the floor. The Righteous Hottie and The Task Master attempted to correct the problem:


...but alas, the only solution for the night was shutting off the water supply and flushing with a bucket of water. But only in emergencies. Thankfully, there is another full bathroom at Ralphie's place. To mourn the loss of one working toilet with 6 women staying in a 2 bedroom condo, we made drinks.


Day 1 - We awoke, we drank coffee, we grocery shopped, and we went to the beach. What else do you need to do in the Keys? Well, The Righteous Hottie would tell you that you need to supervise the plumber (as he fixed the faulty gasket in the toilet) and you need to talk to the St. Petersburg police, so you can file a report on the attempted break-in to your house. If you can't start a holiday weekend with a bang (a.k.a. a crowbar through a bathroom window), why start the weekend at all?? Fortunately, the Keys has the same solution for every problem that might come your way: sun and alcohol. The Righteous Hottie took advantage of both, as did the rest of us. Sombrero Beach is a darling hideaway in the Keys, with enough sand to soak up the rays and enough of a drop off to float and swim.


Day 2 - HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA!! Rise and shine to the dulcet tones of Celine Dion crooning "God Bless America." French-Canadians really do make the best Patriots...Breakfast was one fantastic spread of star-spangled pancakes (banana, strawberries, and blueberries) and a great intro into a day filled with crafts (yes), floating (YES!), sun, floating, beer, and other tasty beverages at Summerland Key. Here was our Independence Day Flotilla of Fun:


After our day in the sun (including circumnavigation of Mega Grande Key), we lovely ladies toddled on back to Ralphie's Place for hot dogs, crescent roll-wrapped lil' smokies, and God knows what other deliciousness. I inhaled it all like there was no tomorrow. Dessert was the explosive display of fireworks on Sombrero Beach where, as the kid behind us said, "The finale is going to be IN. YOUR. FACE!" And no lie, that finale was all up in my grill. I tried to capture the display with the camera, but its all blurry. But heck, take a look and relive your own 4th of July...



Day 3 - I'm getting slower in my late-20s. Recovery is not a quick as it once was...even with an early bedtime. I won't say if it was an early-in-the-morning bedtime or an early-in-the-night bedtime because I don't want to reveal whether I am lame or awesome (I'm either too proud or too humble). Regardless, the morning brought bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwiches. Oh, happiness!! No worries, we supplemented some of the grease with fruit, or juice, or...coffee. Lots of coffee.

And then, sweating. We sat on the beach and sweated our lives away. It was a HOT day and the beach entry into the water was an exercise in "step through the seaweed." All the boat traffic from the night before (mooring to watch the fireworks on the beach) churned up a lot of green yuck. Once through, though, we were sitting pretty...as long as we batted away the Sargassum.

After lolling on the beach, we gals cleaned up right nice and drove on down to Key West for a beautiful sunset at Mallory Square, mojitos, and one savory, delicious dinner at Blue Heaven. After tasting The Righteous Hottie's surf and turf filet and scallops, I almost called the waitress back to reconsider my order, but my grouper with mango chutney was delicious in its own right. Our midnight drive back to Marathon was the first hint that we would soon be leaving the Keys altogether...

Day 4 - Time to pack up and go. As The Righteous Hottie's parents had just sold the condo, this was our last stay EVER at Ralphie's Place. This little two-bedroom palace had given us ladies two solid weekends of memories, fun, and laughter. For The Righteous Hottie, Ralphie's Place had been a family getaway for over a decade, and this last goodbye was bittersweet. The Righteous Hottie and I sipped our coffee on the screened-in balcony for one last morning. Ultimately, the Gang split into to two cars - one headed back to home base and the other to Ft. Lauderdale, where The Captain's wonderful parents would host dinner for some weekend-weary ladies. Ft. Lauderdale was my next stop on my two-week work n' play journey up the East Coast...
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Trip Stats:
Number of liters of Fresca consumed: 6 (at least)
Number of pretzels thrown into the ocean: half a bag (an underestimate)
Number of flesh wounds inflicted by the bottom of the pool: 3
Number of Lil' Smokies consumed: 2 packs
Number of times The Righteous Hottie "saved" my life with the pool's life-ring: 3
Number of times I jumped off the diving board into the ocean with my sunglasses on: 1
Number of times someone had to free dive in order to retrieve my sunglasses from the bottom of the ocean: 1
Number of times The Voice sent a text message: I lost count on the first night

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We leisurely awoke on Friday morning (THANK goodness!!) and made our way downstairs to a complimentary breakfast of bread, butter, jam, scrambled eggs with ham, tea, juice, and fresh fruit. And by "we," I mean Amanda, Tami, and me. The boys couldn't be bothered with breakfast. Check out wasn't until 11, so we took our sweet time getting organized, packed, and showered. For me, I wanted to take time to enjoy my last shower for the next two days...

At check-out, we stored our bags and went shopping for a last minute souvenirs. On our way down the hill from the fair trade store, where some of us hit the souvenir payload, we passed by a festival of children (or as some would think, a market where children were for sale)...





The kids were dancing and had no clue as to the steps. They all had that blank stare of "What the hell are these adults making us do?" You had to admit that the traditional dress and their faces were captivating.

Around 2, the taxi for the Juliaca airport picked us all up from the hostal. For Ryan and me, this was the start of our goodbye to Peru. On our way to the airport, we passed another fabulous contributor to the area's impeccable air quality:



Turns out that was my last photo in Peru, but fortunately, not my last impression.

Our flight to Lima lasted all of an hour and a half. Everyone got their bags upon arrival. Ryan and I hugged Amanda, Larry, and Tami goodbye. We wouldn't see them again until they returned to the States. After Ryan and I saw off the others, we did some reconnaissance of the Lima airport. It was 6 PM on Friday and our first of 3 flights home didn't take off until 5:35 AM the next morning. We were in for a long night...Where would we like to set up camp?

There is no carpeting and there are no quiet corners in the Lima airport. It is tile, open spaces, and major thoroughfares. Ryan didn't go for my suggestion of camping out in the chapel. What?? Its a legitimate suggestion in my eyes!! Its quiet, set out of the way, and there is no fluorescent lighting...Its got a soothing ambiance - perfect for sleeping!!

After scoping out some food, which for some reason my stomach wasn't interested in more than crackers, Ryan and I sat down on the bridge leading from the second floor of the airport to the airport hotel. We weren't alone - there were two other travelers already camped out - and the area would gather a crowd as the night went on.

I tried to sleep laying on the floor with my head propped on my bag. I was partially successful. I would sleep for about 45 minutes at a time, despite the flight announcements going off over the loud speaker every 15 minutes. "Ding dong. TACA flight number two, six, five to Bogota is now boarding in departure lounge number 18." I also found moments of sleep through the sounds of pipes dropping, hand saws, and other plumbing construction going on mere feet from where we lay. Other sounds filling the airport: babies crying, crowds yammering, and people walking by. However, by midnight, I was cold and uncomfortable on the tile floor, and hungry. The myriad sounds were hammering into my head and I couldn't shut them out. So, I got up and went to Starbucks. Even in Lima, there is Stabucks. I find that a little nauseating, but man, they make a mean hot chocolate (I did say the floor made me cold). Plus, I was able to get a muffin de manzana with cinnamon. They warmed that up for me without me even having to ask!

As I ate my muffin and drank my hot chocolate, I watched all the people waiting on the bridge (I think they were waiting to pick up passengers arriving on flights). I would also stare down the people walking past that stared at Ryan and me like we were on display. Yeah, we're sleeping in the airport...What of it, foo'?

It was amazing that this airport NEVER quieted down. Flights continued to arrive past midnight, past 1 AM. And the construction on the pipes continued past 1 AM. Ryan was able to sleep through the din a little longer than me - how? I don't know...

I finished my fluff paperpack, which I started on the flight to Peru, but didn't crack open since I arrived. ["The Undomestic Goddess," by Sophie Kinsella. Ladies, I recommend this as a great beach read.] Around 3 AM, Ryan and I noticed a line of people down near the Copa Airlines counter and we figured that was our flight. We scuttled downstairs to hurry up and wait. No less than two Copa Airlines employees asked us if we needed tags for our luggage. I had three tags on my bag. Simple observation would let you know that I'm good to go, but hey, maybe that's just me...

We checked in. Then we paid our departure tax of 100 soles. It makes you slightly glad that the US folds all those fees and taxes into the final cost of your airfare. Notice I only said "slightly" glad...Then, we sat at the terminal. I shopped at duty free and bought the perfume I'd been wanting for years: L'eau d'Issey Miake. Our gate would not open until boarding time. I was slightly confused when I went through customs, then noticed that our gate was on the OTHER side of customs. This airport is weird...

I think I slept on the flight to Panama City. I also remember feeling nauseous. I'm not really sure what my body was trying to tell me. I am going home already!! Panama City airport was warm and muggy. Already I felt happy about returning to a place where I didn't have to figure out how many layers I needed to wear for the day. I felt better on the flight to Miami and for a lack of anything better to do, I watched the in-flight film, "Definitely, Maybe," for the second time. I already watched it on the Panama City flight en route to Lima almost 2 weeks before. Maybe I watched it for nostalgia's sake...or I was bored and not sleepy.

We landed in Miami and my nausea was gone. Maybe my intestines were celebrating my return to my homeland? Regardless, I was so excited to be so close to home. It was 1:45 PM. Lima is an hour behind Eastern Daylight Savings Time. We had been in transit for nearly 24 hours. Ryan and I miraculously breezed through baggage and customs. YAY! I checked into our flight to Tampa, we grabbed some food, and we headed down to our commuter terminal on the ground floor of the Miami airport.

Ryan and I had minor heart attacks when it was announced that our scheduled 4 PM flight was delayed for 2 hours, but the desk agent offered up 2 seats on the flight preceeding that one (Allelujah!! Can I get a witness??? Can I get a witness??...). We would leave almost immediately...at 4 PM. ??? I guess some thunderstorms were mucking up all the works for scheduled small aircraft flights.

I nearly ran onto our puddle jumper. In an hour, through gathering stormclouds, we arrived at my favorite airport - Tampa International. Get me in a cab and get me HOME!! Bags? Check! Cab? Check check. Crossing the bridge from Tampa to St. Pete never felt so good, or so exhausting. My shower and my bed felt closer than ever. What hour of transit were we on? 27??

The cab dropped us off at Ryan's car, which was parked in a friend's driveway. Then Ryan dropped me off at my doorstep. I unlocked my apartment door and gratefully stepped over the threshold. I was home. I just had the adventure of a lifetime and now, I could rest...until the next one.

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