Before we left Oregon, we confidently discussed the stops we would most enjoy. These discussions did not include the panhandle. But Micki must have had some small insight in her planning. Many months ago, when discussing our repeated one-night stays along the journey southeast, Micki decided for a lark to book two nights at a state park in the panhandle. Today I am so very grateful she did. You will see why in a moment.

The morning of our travel to the panhandle, woke in the early dark of a New Orleans morning, hitched up, and hit the road. The drive to the panhandle would cover eastern Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and the western panhandle of Florida. Along the way we again were privileged with some memorable sunrise skylines and sights along the way.

After four and a half hours or so, we pulled up in yet another Wal-Mart parking lot for the morning’s work, not to mention a bit of travel rest.

Micki went into Wal-Mart to grab a few supplies and groceries while I worked. Bella kept a diligent watch for Micki’s return. Sophie did not, but decided instead to whimper the entire time, which I found to be a helpful bit of background music during my various Zooms and calls.

When we arrived at this “state park” Micki had selected for a two-night stint, we were shocked. St. Andrews State Park in Panama City Beach, FL is probably the nicest state park we’ve ever camped. The sites were large, level, and clean, connected by paved and well-marked roadways and attended by accessible amenities. We previously heard that Florida state parks were quite popular but had assumed the popularity was driven only by Florida’s popularity in general. We were wrong. If St. Andrews is to be taken as exemplar, these parks’ popularity is well-earned.

The view of the sunset from our park – the first real sunset we’d seen since leaving the west coast – was breathtaking.

The next morning, the moon greeted us again, ready to help hitch up and roll. I gently broke the news to our moon friend that we wouldn’t be travelling that day, finished walking the dogs, and crawled back in bed for a few.

We decided that day to take the morning off work for a touristy detour, which was an unplanned crime of opportunity that we were giddy to commit. We took a ferry to Shell Island, which is a secluded reserve accessible only by boat.

Disembarking on a well-worn dock, we started up a boardwalk over the dunes toward the beach on the other side of the island. As the boardwalk transition to beach, the white sand invited us to remove our shoes and walk barefoot, which we gladly accepted. Shoes in our hands and smiles on our faces, we trod onto the beach.

The sand nearer the water was embossed with shells in a pattern that sure must be random, but the predictable spread suggested a design intent, which itself causing a moment of wonder.

The sun shone and the wind blew, both in modest measure, and we walked up the beach a half mile or so.

We picked no shells, though we enjoyed the sights along the way.

The white sand beach was cool and soft, so we plopped down to soak in some satisfaction for these moments stolen from work hours.

Back on the dock side of the island, we saw a hermit crab in the shallows, although the water ripples blurred all photos I attempted.

After ferrying over the channel back to St. Andrews State Park, a couple of pelicans greeted us on one side while a heron stood sentry on the other side.

On our bikes back to our site, we saw a large wild turtle grazing on dune grass. The wildlife turned out as one of the most impactful parts of St. Andrews. In addition to the hermit crabs, pelicans, herons, and turtles, we saw deer, bunnies, and many other birds. I personally was struck dumb more than once at the seemingly random encounters with unfamiliar creatures. Florida clearly worked to preserve the natural state of the parklands apart from the campsites, and succeeded in creating a worthy destination bearing the deceptively simple title of “state park.” Well done, Florida.

We did not originally predict any particular moment of inspiration or joy in the panhandle, but our ignorance made this visit that much more surprisingly memorable. We are grateful for this experience.

Early the morning of the third day, we again departed by moonlight, stopping to treat ourselves to Starbucks as the sun crept in to take over the day. Thankfully, this would be the last day of early travel on a workday for six weeks.

We headed toward the Tampa area to reconnect some family that we’ve not seen in too long. We’ll so some reminiscing about the past, commiserating about the present, and hoping for the future.

Then to the Keys……..