I’m flopped in my tent at a quarter to 6. It’s as dry as it’s going to get in Cindy’s backyard. I kinda kept moving today and never took the time to lay it out in the sun, but I’m getting used to the damp.
Cindy lives in Pahokee, just ten or so miles up the levee. So I stop for a magnificent, authentic Mexican lunch, then hoof it another 3+ miles to Canal Point and hitch back.
That keeps me from having to walk a 20 mile day tomorrow.
It’s not that I can’t do it, but the heat is intense, especially since I walk in the sun all day. And the path is hard and unforgiving.
The good news is I wake with very few bugs. Mosquito repellent spraying trucks take care of the worst of it. But the beautiful wind dies, and it’s a damp one.
The RV park is mostly quiet all night and I leave before most people stir. The grounds are so extensive, I appreciate a mini-hitch to Slims Bait and Tackle where I pick up another lip balm. I look like I’ve had collagen injections.
An older gentlemen walks his corgie/huskey mix with bright blue eyes from his golf cart and talks to me about all the hikers who’ve passed through feeling absolutely spent by the trail.
I know I am as I cross back over the bridge then begin the long levee walk, looking out to Kreamer Island where bass fisherman are already in position.
Bright white Ibises with long yellow bills feed in front of me, and scatter as I come closer. They give way to enormous vultures, sitting on rocks and drying their wings.
Does this ecosystem really need this many vultures? Apparently so.
I leave the levee briefly on a steep road for Paul Rardin Park. Beautiful spreading oaks shade numerous picnic tables and operatic boat tail grackles act as welcoming committee.
I am definitely beginning to tire out. It’s so nice under here as I eat one of Miriam’s tin of sardines.
But I press on, passing very slowly the small Glades airport where a small plane continually takes off, buzzes around and lands.
For perspective, the pilot has made at least ten practice flights to my one walk by.
But finally I see the entire lake in all its glory, so large I can’t see the other side. It’s not far now to a string of RV’s right at the water’s edge and the town itself.
I receive warnings that this is a dangerous place but I only see well kept homes and many people of color. I don’t feel unsafe walking to Coffees Carmen where I made to feel totally welcome and served a heaping plate of authentic Mexican cuisine.
I spend a long time in here, which has become my style on this trail. I talk to Richard and make plans for a zero in Okeechobee in two days.
Plus, my friend David, who picked me up at the Miami Airport, will come out to meet me tomorrow, tenting with me on the lake and bringing lots of goodies.
Taking the east side is not the official trail. Rather it’s a “blue blaze” or alternate. A hiker adds her thoughts to our map app to blue blaze the blue blaze by walking on Everglades Road. It’s a sidewalk for three miles and offers much more shade.
Plus there is far more to see by way of brightly painted homes, garden art and general interest. A nice break from the levee.
I’m at the very friendly convenience store in a little over an hour and purchase overpriced bars for tomorrow’s walk before putting my thumb out for a ride back to town.
Within five minutes I get a ride with an Argentinean polo player of all people. It’s only 10 minutes to the lovely library where I’d planned to meet Cindy, but she tells me she forgot about BBQ night and to just walk to her home.
And here I am, crashed out with two barred owls hooting from the massive tree in her yard. My eyes are closing and I think a nap is in order!
