Mouse House Adventures

The sun rises eager to illuminate everything the day will offer. But after burning across the sky, the day cools and sun fades into the distance, reminiscing on a day well spent by painting the sky as it bids farewell. We arrived in the Keys eager to take in every possible sight and adventure. Now after having made the most of the time spent in a place of remarkable beauty, we reminisce as we prepare for departure.

We three and a half weeks we lived here in the Keys, working remotely during the weekend and playing tourist on the weekends. That pattern continued to the end, although our last weekend was just a bit quieter.

Last Thursday morning we moved from Sunshine Key back up to Fiesta Key for two nights, then returned to Sunshine Key two days later Saturday morning.

Our site at Fiesta during those two days afforded a view of the ocean and a bit of the sunset sky, which brightened our days and our evenings during such a short visit to Fiesta.

The moon continued doting over us, shining bright during the late-night dog walks.

Returning to Sunshine Key, our new site was a slight upgrade from our former site, although no ocean views this time.

For the last couple nights, we had another Airstream right next door, on an extended trip from Ontario.

During our stay at Sunshine Key, we received a gift in the night! Airstreamers have traditions borne of comradery, one of which is gifting clandestine Flamingos to other Airstreamers staying nearby. This time, instead of a flamingo, we received this watchful mouse figurine, which we suspect was a play toward the moniker of the Mouse House. We do not who left this gift (not the Ontario folks), but we smiled for the thoughtfulness.

The skies continued to impress, and I couldn’t help but capture more photos.

Despite the last week being a bit quieter overall, we still had memorable experiences, including seeing this superyacht – the 216′ “Elysian” owned by billionaire John Henry – anchored just offshore from Knights Key.

We ate at the Sunset Grille, which was a restaurant situated on the water’s edge featuring a pool and adjacent bar. Yes, this is a pool at a restaurant.

We visited a very hip bar on Big Pine Key called the No Name Pub, decorated profusely with dollar bills which had signed and donated by patrons.

And of course, the sunset views remained persistent, even on the rare cloudy day.

Thursday morning, with equal parts melancholy and gratitude, we hitched up and drove north up the Overseas Highway, finding the mainland for the first time in three and a half weeks. We stayed overnight in Ft. Lauderdale then drove Friday morning to Orlando.

We’ll be here for the next two weeks. taking in the theme parks, one of us more than the other. For the Mouse House – decorated with Mickey Mouse themed items throughout – being so close to Disney World feels like a home she’s never known. And the best part is that Alex and Marissa will be joining us!!

Although we reached the sunset of our time, we will never forget this experience and the Keys will always be in our hearts. But alas we must move forward, ready to embrace our next adventure in the Mouse House.

While in the Keys, we’ve spent time on the mundane and the memorable, working on weekdays and exploring on weekends. But we also must exercise along the way, lest cabin fever take root. We brought our paddleboards and our bikes, a selection of resistance bands, and even a TRX. The cycling has been particularly enjoyable here in the Keys.

The Overseas highway has wide enough shoulders for bikes nearly everywhere, whether on islands or bridges.

The pavement on the shoulder is typically smooth and consistent, although always dusted with a few pebbles to worry your front tire, and sometimes a chunk of wood or other detritus to avoid.

The vehicle traffic passes at speeds between 40 and 60, which can be unnerving at times depending on the wind, the obstacles, and the size of the shoulder. I had family members express concern about biking along the Overseas Highway because of the risk that a distracted driver might swerve into the shoulder. A simple google search confirms the validity of this concern. But life always carries risk, and everyone must decide individually which risks to accept. Based upon the popularity of cycling in the Keys, I found myself in good company.

Often a pedestrian path will meander alongside the highway, presenting an attractive alternative to the shoulder. But these side paths tended to be unreliable, beginning and ending without warning or reason. Even along the usable portions, the roots of the adjacent mangroves created ripples and bumps in the pavement.

The pedestrian path is also at times afforded its own separate bridge paralleling the highway bridge, which I utilized at times. However, even that option had compromises. In addition to pedestrians and other cyclists, these narrow bridges were often occupied by fisherman with multiple poles and carts in the path.

Sometimes those pedestrian bridges were closed permanently. Anyone cycling along the pedestrian path would then need to cross the grass or sand back to the highway to cross the bridge on the shoulder.

The reasons for the closures were obvious for certain sections, although less obvious for other sections.

Needless to say, after the first few rides, I just stuck to the shoulder. The pedestrian path was too unreliable in spite of the additional safety afforded by being off the roadway.

All of my rides included a combination of bridges and island stretches – you can’t travel any real distance in the Keys without crossing a bridge – but I couldn’t leave the Keys without riding across the famous Seven Mile Bridge at least once.

The bridge is approximately 6.8 miles long and is mostly flat although has a raised section in the middle for ocean traffic. This middle raised section is visible in the above photo, giving a sense of the bridge’s overall length.

Crossing the bridge, I paused in the middle at the top of the raised section to take a couple of photographs.

Looking down at the boat channel below, the effect can be somewhat dizzying because of the wind, the waves, and the traffic. It was a memorable experience. The return trip the other direction was far worse due to the headwind, but the experience of crossing this incredible span mitigated the otherwise unpleasant grind.

Adjacent to the north end of the Seven Mile Bridge is a section of the old highway extending the two miles to Pigeon Key, which is a small historical island formerly used as a work camp to build the old bridge before World War I.

Micki and I drove ourselves to the starting point and biked across the bridge to explore the island.

The old highway beyond Pigeon Key was, let’s say, inaccessible.

It was interesting to explore this tiny island, which has a number of different houses, a dock, a sea pen, and shallow areas to observe a variety of ocean creatures.

Heading back on the highway, a shot a quick photo of this portion of the Sunshine Key RV Resort where we’ve been staying. I spy with my little eye something silver….

I am grateful we brought our bikes on this journey. The bikes have traveled 3,500 miles crammed into the backseat area of the truck with my front tire removed and with Micki’s bike folded in half. We have used the bikes for longer rides on the highway and short jaunts through the maze of streets within the RV Resort. If and when we return to the Keys, we will be sure to bring the bikes again.

It is such a remarkable and personal experience, I won’t trouble you with words, but please enjoy these experiences as I have enjoyed them, first person.

Routine is insidious, quietly ordering daily life into predictable patterns despite our best intentions. On weekdays, we wake, eat, work, clean, launder, walk the dogs, and sleep. The events of a day – mostly spent at the desk managing phone calls and emails – become predicable and ordinary even while sat in a distant sunny location.

But routine is pervious to interruption. On Tuesday this past week, our reservation at Fiesta Key RV Resort ended and our reservation at Sunshine Key began. Thus we packed up and headed 30 miles south.

The drive, as always, guided us through many small beach towns on various islands connected by long bridges with incredible views to the horizon on both sides.

At Sunshine Key we checked in then followed our golf cart escort to our new home for nine days. The sites here are more spacious than Fiesta’s and the marina much larger, although the amenities are fewer and it has no dog park (for now; under construction).

Our faithful moon followed, illuminating our path on the inevitable midnight dog walks.

Sunshine Key does not feature a restaurant or bar but solicits the occasional taco truck and other food vendors.

After learning the lay of the land at Sunshine Key, routine reasserted itself. Through headaches, stressful workdays, doggy gastro issues, and various other struggles of the banal, routine prodded us forward to the weekend.

But the weekend is when we give routine the middle finger. Midday Saturday, after lining up a dog walker for our tiny traveling companions, we set off south for Key West to do some more exploring.

We hopped on a trolly tour around the town to learn some fun facts and identify potential experiences. The narration was interesting and the sights beautiful.

Our first experience was the Key West Butterfly and Nature Conservatory, which was amazing! After entering the large atrium, we were immediately surrounded by a fantastical array of large colorful butterflies.

Birds also share the room, providing a chorus of assorted chirps and calls as background music for this slow mesmerizing march through the butterfly menagerie.

In the middle of the room are two fully grown flamingos in a wading pond tailored specially for these two characters, named Rhett and Scarlet.

For the uninitiated, flamingos are the unofficial mascot of Airstreamers everywhere. Airstream owners use flamingos as decoration everywhere, and although we are unfamiliar with the history or reason for this adoption, we too have leaned into that tradition.

But despite our fanciful appreciation of the flamingo in concept, we were not prepared to meet these two in person. It was incredible. They are lanky and dignified, standing unafraid while the humans circle. Their call is a strange squawk/honk that is not easily described, but we have video.

We were fortunate enough to witness the mating ritual between Rhett and Scarlet, consisting of many back-and-forth squawks while turning their both ways, culminating in a simultaneous full wing flash and a head duck.

We visited the Southernmost Point, further south than any other portion of the continental US (Hawaii is further south), which is mostly unremarkable save the symbolism.

We visited the Schooner Wharf Bar, which is a quaint outdoor-only establishment sitting on the marina front with live music and festive beverages.

Walking along the wharf, we saw large White Tarpon trolling for tourist food and fish-cleaning scraps.

Sunday late morning we returned to Key West, again having arranged the same dog walker (shout out to Lindsay, a research assistance with Florida Fish & Wildlife with a dog walking side hustle). We grabbed a quick early lunch from Bo’s Seafood Shack then boarded a catamaran to go snorkeling off the nearby coral reef.

We enjoyed the cruise out to the reef, meeting folks visiting from San Diego and Michigan, taking in Key West from the waterside and enjoying the view of Atlantic further out.

We passed close to a cruise ship in port at Key West for the day and were reminded how impossibly large these vessels really are. This is the Celebrity Apex, which is over 1,000 feet long and 128 feet wide.

Out toward the reef, the waters shone hues of blue and teal, clear enough to see the changing topography along the ocean floor.

The snorkeling was breathtaking, although no photos because we didn’t’ bring a waterproof camera. We’ve been snorkeling before, but we enjoyed this location more than the others. The reef itself is protected, so fishing is prohibited and the tourist snorkelers are admonished against touching. Thus, the fish are quite comfortable swimming around the gawking humans. Despite being six miles out, the water remained shallow enough to take in everything, including the sea floor itself. We saw thousands of fish, coral, plant life, and even a 5-foot shark, who quickly swam away from the annoying snorkelers.

Back on land, we visited the Truman Little White House, where the sign said photography was forbidden but our tour guide told us he could exercise his discretion and encouraged us to take a few snapshots. It was very interesting, especially for those who might be into stories from presidential history.

We ended the day at Alfonso’s Oyster Bar, which was again on the wharf near where we saw the White Tarpon yesterday. I believe all Key West restaurants feature creative tropical beverages, and who are we to decline?

After two fun-filled weekend days in Key West, we headed back to the Airstream Sunday evening to our very excited puppies. We took them for several decent walks despite being tired ourselves, then turned in.

The Monday morning sunrise heralded a return to our weekday routine of work and chores, but we smile for the opportunity to “endure” that routine while in the Florida Keys.

One week has passed living in the keys, working on the weekdays, and exploring on the weekends. Most of our time during the week is spent in the trailer with both AC units running, meaning I’m wearing a hoodie to stay warm. Emails, phone calls, Zoom meetings, and written work product all have a very similar feel to working from the office in Portland.

The mundane chores remain. We clean, make beds, wash the trailer, walk the dogs, monitor tank levels, and do laundry as part of necessary life routines. Micki cooks our breakfast, lunch, and dinner inside the trailer, and we run to the grocery store as needed.

But step outside and the world changes. Sunshine warmth greet you just outside the door, tempered by the occasional breeze. The neighbors are all happy to be there living in an RV just as we do. The setting is surreal, and we’ve tried very hard to soak in extra enjoyment for the mundanity of life’s everyday tasks. This was particularly true this week because Portland got hit with a weather storm that dumped 10″ of snow and gridlocked traffic for hours.

We feel lucky enough to have avoided that mess, but extra lucky because the time spent here included paddle boarding near mangroves, biking on the Overseas Highway, sitting by the pool during lunch breaks, chaperoning the local senior citizens acting like children, watching the local wildlife, and soaking in the amazing sunsets.

The dogs have really appreciated the time at the little dog park and the simple walks around the resort, although they did not necessarily love getting bathed in the kitchen sink.

Aside from the day-to-day living in a warm climate, what are the Keys like generally? Mesmerizing, in a myriad of ways.

The entirety of the keys lies just above sea level, nearly every bit of land being within 10 feet of the water. Here you’ll find no cliffs, hills, rises, or outcroppings. If sea level rose ten feet, most of these thousands of islands would simply disappear, leaving only water-logged rooftops as evidence of inhabitance. Even the tide appears to threaten the dry land. But thus far the Keys remain, meaning the tide has been narrow and predictable for the most part. 

But we’ve all heard stories of the hurricanes, and the Keys themselves offer remembrances along the way. New bridges parallel the old ones, which are left to weather and rot in place. Boulders on the shoreline guard against tidal surges. New homes rest on 10-foot columns, leaving room for the sea to wash underneath when necessary. Nobody seems overly worried, but I see contingency planning all around. 

Construction materials and methods differ here. Instead of wood framing, the homes and buildings are mostly built from cinder blocks filled with concrete. All of the rock appears to have been quarried from the seabed itself. The boulders lining the sea, the gravel pads for parking lots and RV pads (1” minus) and the driveway gravel (3/4” minus) all have the same color and texture. I’ve seen this color and texture along the sea floor while paddle boarding; slightly tan with a rough texture beyond pumice.

It makes sense that this would be the most abundant source of rock, but the pervasiveness is nonetheless remarkable. Even the roadways have a tinge of the same  color, as if the sand or aggregate for the concrete is also quarried from the sea bed. 

 This gravel is everywhere in the RV Park. At Fiesta Key, every site is 100% gravel, with only the roadways having actual pavement. Grass adorns only the community center, and turf adorns the dog park, but otherwise everything is this rough gravel. Outside the trailer, shoes are required. 

Although we only have one week of exposure, it occurs to me that the Keys have no true central identity. Millions visit, some for months are a time, then leave. Most of the homes (even the fact ones) appear to be part-time vacation homes or outright rentals. The economy itself appears nearly entirely focused on fishing and tourism.

In this way, the Keys are far more inviting than other vacation destinations. We’ve been to Mexico – which we’ve very much enjoyed – but we understood our place as outsiders being accepted by the host culture. We didn’t speak the language or understand the customs, which often made for a grange feeling of not belonging. Even a visit to our local coastal towns will sometimes invite a feeling of being the outsider from the perspective of the locals. 

But the Keys lack any true singular host culture. Those who live here are intentionally here to enjoy the sun and the tourism, whether as vacation or vocation. Everyone stands equal, and there is no feeling of being an outsider. 

The one possible exception is Key West, which we visited yesterday. We took a day trip from Fiesta Key down to Key West on a beautiful Sunday, and the drive took about 90 minutes. Along the way we saw boats, shacks, mansions, gift shops, and ocean, ocean, ocean. Crossing the numerous bridges, the views on both sides feature shades of blue for a dozen miles to the horizon. 

Key West is an actual city, with typical trappings of a city, including traffic, homeless, and chain restaurants. Much of the city is functional but otherwise unremarkable. The Key West you’ve heard about appears mostly confined to the old district in the southernmost part of the City, and it is worth visiting if you’re in the Keys. 

One of the things that caught my eye early was the architecture, which was instantly reminiscent of the French Quarter in Louisiana. Many of the home featured these front column-supported galleries/balconies.

They were not nearly as prevalent as in the French Quarter where these features are nearly universal, but they were unmistakably the same type of structure.

We were also struck by these trees with roots that run high into the air.

The wild roosters have become something of a mascot for the island, to the point that many local designers have incorporated the rooster into apparel logos. We saw these mascots in several places.

While we were there, we visited the Hemingway Home, which was Earnest Hemingway’s actual house while he lived in Key West in the late 1920s and most of the 1930s, and the visit was very interesting. Fortunately they allow dogs inside, but unfortunately they require that you physically carry the dogs while on the premises because of the 57 – yes 57 – cats that live there. Hemingway loved his cats.

So, because we were carrying our little doggies in addition to a bag and a bottle of water, we didn’t have free hands to take pictures. But the house was really cool, existing in essentially the same state it was when Hemingway moved away in the late 1930s and still showing off antique furniture and decorations Hemingway acquired during his travels.

We explored some of the local shops, and like in New Orleans we found a shop that designs and creates their own logos and apparel called Red Bike Brand. Although shops like this are inevitably more expensive than the typical gift shop selling mass-produced items, the look and feel are usually far superior, and I feel much better patronizing those who live and work in the place their products represent.

We also decided to have lunch at Blue Heaven which is a spot in the old town neighborhood that came highly recommended. It was exceptional, and again very much worth the visit. Micki had Shrimp & Grits and I had Bruschetta toast with avocado and egg whites. Fancier than average, but very delicious.

The setting was very nice, being almost exclusively outdoor tables under a variety of different shade covers and with an outdoor bar in the center of the courtyard area. The dogs were tired after all the sidewalk exploring, so they eventually settled in for a rest during lunch.

We’ll do some more exploring in Key West next weekend, and we’ll share our adventures of course. But in the meantime, another week of working in the trailer lies ahead, with the daily chores of living in a trailer and also the flashes of beauty and fun of being in the Keys. This experience will end at some point, but until then, we intend to appreciate every moment.

We began planning this adventure over a year ago, and although the specifics morphed over time, the ultimately goal remained the same: get to the Keys. We’ve dreamed of this place. No, we’ve romanticized and coveted this destination beyond what is healthy for the unmedicated. But we’ve made it, and the accomplishment is somewhat overwhelming.

After 3,000+ miles, the last stop before the Keys was in the Tampa area for three nights and two days, which we spent engaged in some quality time with relatives we hadn’t seen in a while (like once in the last 35 years), and how very fulfilling it was. Most of the time we spent just hanging out and chatting. They fed us nearly every meal and shared their wines in the evenings.

In addition, our wonderful hosts played tour guide for a very unique outing to a power plant that is also a manatee refuge. Yes, you read that correctly. The Big Bend Power Station uses sea water to cool its generators, resulting in warm water discharge into a canal that flows into the ocean. Manatees enjoy warm water and frequently visit the discharge canal. We also visited.

This is the power plant. It not a facade of a power plant or a prettied-up replica of a power plant. It’s the real deal, and it is tremendously ugly, complete with rusty girders, massive steam vent stacks, a mildly unpleasant odor, and mechanical noises droning in the background. However, the local fauna have taken a vote, and they approve of the warm water discharge.

The manatees hang out below the surface, holding their breath most of the time, but snouting up above the surface every so often to breathe. Otherwise, they don’t do much when enjoying the canal.

Other animals also frequent the canal, including fish, birds, sharks, and Floridians.

This heron stood above the sand shallows pecking at the water toward tasty fish at various intervals. I’m partial to herons, so I enjoyed watching the antics of this particular fellow.

The facility constructed a viewing center specifically for the manatees, complete with viewing platforms, this massive pier, and a gift shop.

The next day, we began our drive from Tampa down to the Florida Keys. Most of the drive was typical freeway, although we travelled across an 80 mile stretch of nature preserve called “Alligator Alley.” it is home to various state and national wildlife preserves designed to protect panthers, alligators, and I’m sure there are more. We saw none of those, and spent very little time googling the place, but the lengthy section of fenced freeway with no meaningful off-ramps was interesting.

Once we hit the end of mainland Florida, we transitioned onto the Overseas Highway, which runs the length of the Florida Keys. The islands range from the tiniest unusable patches to larger island hosting cities, airports, state parks, RV resorts, homes, and more. The total number of islands exceeds 1,700 stretching over 198 square miles from Miami to Key West.

Despite the traffic, which was surprisingly slow, the drive was truly unlike any we’ve taken so far. The highway runs over islands and the water between then, sometimes feeling like an average coastal highway and other times feeling like something taken straight from an action movie.

We noticed that construction methods differ slightly here. After seeing this nearly completed neighborhood of cabins sitting on concrete piers, we noticed many other homes and buildings similarly stilted. Fortunately, we’d be visiting in February and March when hurricanes are not prevalent.

After the long trek down a two-lane highway along with thousands of others, we finally arrived at our “home” for the next nine days: Fiesta Key RV Resort. it is a 28-acre site with 324 RV sites, along with cabins, a restaurant, pool, store, laundry, dog park, marina, and other amenities.

Our site is not on the water, but is secluded against a hedge in a corner, so the site has more privacy than most. Space comes at a premium in the Keys, so the sites here are not typically large and the units are packed reasonably tightly together, our site is slightly wedge-shaped, so we have just a bit more room at the rear of the site.

For the first time on this trip, we set up everything. We pulled out our entry mat, our screen room, the big front awning, our paddleboards, and pulled out our bikes. All of this equipment had ridden passenger for two and a half weeks and nearly 3,500 miles just to be here, with the sole except the bikes which saw daylight once in the Panhandle. This picture represents arrival. This picture represents a milestone for this trip and for our adventures.

Just a hundred yards or so down the lane from our site is “Sunset Point,” which earned its name the first evening.

Beyond Sunset Point, the setting sun cast a gradient orange hue across the entire resort.

The next morning on the other side of the resort, the low-hanging clouds obscured the sunrise, but the sun fought through.

Bella and Sophie spent some exuberant time in the dog park making new friends that morning.

After Micki cooked us eggs and sausage for breakfast, we went into town for a few errands. The only thing notable was this seafood store with several massive pools of live lobsters.

Back at the site, we had tuna salad sandwiches for lunch, took a quick rest, visited the pool for a time, then had dinner at the resort’s restaurant.

Although we’ve only been here one full day, we are so very happy to have made it. We feel entirely fulfilled. If we were forced to turn around and start home now, we would do so contented with the experience of having visited the Keys. But I’m hoping we are not forced to turn around, because I have work tomorrow, and I expect working from the Keys will be delightful.

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……..

The “planning” was accidental. Six months ago, Mick started the process of booking the various stays along our big journey, most of which were one-night stays during the process of travelling down to the Florida Keys. When she called the campground in New Orleans, they wouldn’t let her book a one-night stay, requiring a 3-night minimum. When she asked why, the voice on the phone guffawed slightly, and “reminded” her that the date she wanted was during the Carnival leading up to Mardi Gras, which apparently begins shortly after the new year and builds steam leading up to the actual Fat Tuesday. Our planned stay was only one week before the big day, so of course we immediately agreed to the three-nights minimum, and this became a new highlight of the trip.

We arrived Saturday afternoon after a 9-hour trip from Columbus, Texas. The trip should not have taken that long, but we made a few stops along the way, including a trip to West Marine in Lafayette to buy a new terminal block fuse (oh yes, again ….. we bought two this time), a stop at another Buc-ees, and some unscheduled time in a traffic jam. So after we arrived and got set up, the first thing we did was to relax for a few. We decided not to go crazy our first night in New Orleans – the rain and wind made that decision easier – but we nonetheless wanted to dive into some local cuisine for dinner.

A friend passed along some good recommendations, including thenadvice to eat where the locals eat: Frankie and Johnny’s.

This place was amazing. The food felt authentic and uncompromised, and the people were exceptionally hospitable. We decided to focus on things we hadn’t eaten, because when in New Orleans, do as the New Orleanians do.

Starting with crawfish. Micki had them as a kid, but I hadn’t. Our server was gracious enough to walk us through the tableside dissection process, which is part of the fun. First, separate the head from the tail and discard the head portion (optional: suck out the juice first). Next, pull the tip off the tail, then shell the remainder of the tail. What remains will be a small chunk of meat reminiscent of a tiny lobster tail. It’s a fun appetizer, but we were just getting warmed up.

next was this fried oyster Po Boy, which was by far the best thing we ate that dinner. It’s a type of sandwich typically made with sausage or seafood on a toasted hoagie roll, and it was delicious at Frankie and Johnny’s. We’ve since learned that not all Po Boys are created equal, so it depends on where you get it, but this one was amazing.

We also got the onion rings. These were different from other onion rings we’d had; they seemed baked instead of fried. They were very flavorful, but the texture didn’t have that fried crispiness I tend to prefer.

Another Louisiana standard is seafood gumbo, which was also very good. Not as spicy as we’ve had in other places, but definitely a shade spicier than what Micki makes at home.

We slept well that night, and Sophie stayed in bed a bit longer the next morning.

For breakfast Sunday morning, we headed down to the French Quarter for the classic NOLA beignet. This had been on our bucket list for a long time, and it was incredible. We arrived early enough the line was short, and the atmosphere light, and the traffic was almost nonexistent, although piloting the truck through narrow streets of the French Quarter was tight.

The Cafe Beignet had these special Valentine’s Day beignets on special, and we could not resist. They were every bit as good as I hoped, and then some. The dough and the preparation are akin to the Elephant Ears I enjoyed as a kid, but shaped and cooked as a ball of dough rather than being stretched flat. We will remember these for a long time. They are very good.

Micki sagely advised that we add a bit of protein to the morning, so we also ordered a bacon egg croissant. As expected, this was also delicious, with the bacon chopped up into an omelet/scramble mix inserted into the croissant with cheese. Not the healthiest breakfast we’ve ever eaten, but we were so grateful for the opportunity and the experience.

The Cafe Beignet has a courtyard seating area just outside, which was pleasant albeit a tad chilly on this early February morning. I had Cafe au Lait, and Micki had the classic southern sweet tea.

We then set off to see some of the sights in the French Quarter so close to Mardi Gras. On a Sunday Morning you won’t find stereotypical Mardi Gras drunken crowds of people throwing beads, but it turns out this was the ideal time to peruse the art and architecture of the French Quarter.

The architecture of the French Quarter is remarkable. It started in the early 1700s as a French settlement on the shore of the Mississippi, and these buildings were originally houses. Only after the passage of a couple hundred years of restless history did this area become more commercial and touristy. The buildings are packed tightly against one another, each with a slightly unique facade, and almost all with a gallery/balcony of its own from which occupants may observe the street below.

Some were decorated specifically for Mardi Gras, but many were just charming in their natural state, without seasonal adornment.

We intended to visit this museum, but they were closed on Sundays. 😦

The Jackson Square cathedral was imposing as you look up to take it all in.

The statute of Andrew Jackson astride a horse was also breathtaking, whit the sun and the American flag paying tribute in the background.

The view to the Mississippi River from Washington Artillery Park was also worth taking a moment to appreciate.

But it’s Mardi Gras, and even on a Sunday Morning the buskers were out. The purity of the rhythm and the simplicity of this group’s cohesiveness was inspiring. You can hear a very casual give-and-take in the form and a lazy, almost dismissive, call and response between the trumpet and trombone. You can hear that these guys have done this a very long time. It was magnificent. We definitely threw some cash in the bucket.

We would have stayed longer, but the street parking ends at 11:00am sharp, and we saw the army of tow trucks that awaited the heedless. So we started walking back the way we came, found the truck, and headed toward a couple other stops we had in mind.

This art installation across the street from the convention center caught my eye. I can’t tell if it’s a playful take on the treehouse or an optimistic take on the aftermath of a storm. Either way it’s hard to walk by this without stopping for a movement of appreciation.

Also based upon a recommendation, we visited a gift store called Dirty Coast, and I’m glad we did. They create and produce many of their own NOLA-centric designs on t-shirts, hats, sweatshirts, and more. They also carry items from authentic local artisans and other kitschy local items.

This one caught my eye as a bit of playful satire. We were feeling the truth behind this after driving New Orleans streets for a while. And this pothole lesson really set over the hour that followed our visit to the Dirty Coast.

We planned simply to drive back to the Mouse House and grab lunch nearer to our base, but NOLA had other plans. Mardi Gras means lots of parades – two at this particular time – and to this we add a departing cruise ship and some construction very near the French Quarter. The result was a mess of traffic and closed street, none of which were accurately reflected in any of the various navigation apps were ha

We rested up for the afternoon with a decision to make. On the one hand, we really wanted to head back down to the French Quarter in the evening for dinner and some of the Carnival nightlife. On the other hand, we couldn’t find any reservations available at the recommended places, and we were a bit gun shy after being traffic-trapped earlier. We decided against going out. Instead, we sat inside the Mouse House and watched the Super Bowl.

The doggies enjoyed having us home and on the couch for their comfort.

For dinner, we got take-out from a local shop called Smiley’s. We got another round of fried oyster Po Boys, and although they good, this round was not as good as those from Frankie and Johnny’s. Still a treat.

Monday morning, we woke early and continued our gastrointestinal self-destruction. We tried yet another recommended place called Cafe du Monde. Like Cafe Beignet, they also specialize in coffee and beignets for breakfast, and we were excited to try another version.

These beignets were slightly smaller than those from Cafe Beignet, although also less expensive. The texture was not quite as doughy as those from Cafe Beignet either. All things considered, these were delicious but we preferred those from Cafe Beignet.

We ate them on the way back to the Mouse House, enjoying a welcoming sunrise along the way. Upon arrival, we realized that eating beignets while driving was a mistake. It’s probably the type of stereotypical rookie mistake that makes locals chuckle at newbies like ourselves. Deservedly so.

Monday being a work day, we did nothing touristy, but we did decide to have lunch as a final recommended restaurant – Cochon – and we’re glad we did. We managed to cross off several amazing local delicacies from our list.

Cajun oysters.

Fried alligator.

Grits.

Fried boudin balls.

And finally cracklin’, which is akin to hand-made chicharrónes.

As we wrap up our time in New Orleans, we’ll need some time to recover our diet. we’ll be back to Micki’s home cooking, which is always delicious. Monday night’s dinner was shrimp fajitas. Before New Orleans, we hadn’t eaten out on this trip hardly at all, because the Mouse House has the best food around.

But we’ve decided we really love New Orleans, and not just because of the food. We want to come back, but this time we’ll be more experienced visitors. Spontaneity requires planning. That may sound oxymoronic, but bear with me. A visit to New Orleans during the Carnival before Mardi Gras should be granted the flexibility of wandering shops, restaurants, and parades at will, and spending time absorbing local architecture and music without a predetermined schedule.

But all that spontaneity requires advance planning around logistics and contingencies. Have Transporation or parking. Have lodging close if possible. Know which parades are happening while you’re there, so you can attend the ones you want, and avoid the ones you don’t. Plan to be in the French Quarter all day if possible, so that you don’t risk traffic issues causing stress to dilute the experience.

We’ll know better next time. We’ll be more experienced tourists. But we’re fairly certain there will be a next time. This place is special.

Gotta work for a living still. The entirety of this trip is planned to allow me to continue working each day along the way, with the exception of spring break. The first few days were difficult because of the half-days and the need to get ahead of the weather, but after that we settled into a groove.

We get up very early in the morning, travel for three to four hours, then find a parking lot suitable for parking awhile. Mostly Wal-Marts, but also truck stops and rest areas. At lunch time, we hop in the truck and finish the day’s drive to wherever our next overnight is, work the remainder of the afternoon, have dinner and turn in for the night. The next morning early, we repeat the process.

The above photo is from the Tejon Pass rest area just west of the California/Arizona border, where we worked Monday morning. We woke up that morning in Menifee, California and drove a few hours, then chose this beautiful spot to stop for the morning’s work. After about two and a half hours, the wind started blowing, gently at first then more furiously. Micki checked the weather and learned that a high wind warning was in effect for the Tejon Pass area covering the next six hours or so. We hopped in the truck and headed for Arizona quickly.

We stayed that night in Salome, Arizona at a nice little park called the Desert Vista RV Park. The sites were nice, the park clean, and the sun was shining although not terribly warm.

Micki even picked this orange off an actual orange tree! The dogs started noticing that there will be no grass in the area. They disapprove. I finished the work day, Micki made dinner, and we settled in for another early morning.

We got up early and started driving at about 5:30am. Unfortunately, thousands of residents of the greater Phoenix metro area also got up and started driving that morning. We spent about an hour in traffic, which was not fun while pulling the Mouse House.

We set up in a Wal-Mart parking lot on the east end of Phoenix for a few hours of work until lunch time.

For lunch – Micki’s birthday lunch – Micki wanted to stop and get Culver’s burgers to go. This was our parking spot, where we ate our burgers and then got back on the road. Unfortunately we didn’t make it all the way to our next overnight during the lunch hour, so we needed to take another break to work the afternoon, this time at a truck stop.

Our stop that night was at a Harvest Host site called the Cattle Rest Bar in Wilcox, Arizona. The site was great, although our host in the bar – “Ms. Personality” – was memorable for other reasons.

The moon when we woke was so bright it seemed almost like daylight. We got on the road at just after 5:00am.

The sunrises were continually amazing through the high dessert. We passed through New Mexico that morning and into Texas.

Our morning work stop was another Wal-Mart parking lot, this time in El Paso, Texas.

To our great luck, the view on the other side of the trailer was pretty decent.

Over lunch we finished our last little bit of travel to our next overnight in Van Horn, Texas at a park called Wild West RV Park. These folks were very nice, and the park was very well kept. The dogs saw a patch of grass – finally – but it turned to be a trap for the unwary, as the “grass” left a bunch of little burs in the dogs’ paws that required tweezers to remove. Good times.

Starlink made working remotely very easy, although we also have a Verizon hot spot and our AT&T phone hot spots as backup.

Bella has taken to standing on the dinette table to supervise the day’s activities.

Micki made a delicious southwest chicken dish with beans and rice.

The next morning, back on the road very early, this time hoping again to cover most of the travel before the workday started, which was possible due to the time change. The sunrises continued to amaze.

Getting gas is always an experience with the Mouse House, and we don’t have the luxury of disconnecting first.

We made it! For the first time, we covered our entire day’s travel to the next overnight before the workday started. 10:30am local time (8:30am pacific). The stop was at Buckhorn Lake RV Resort, which was by far the nicest place we’ve stayed yet. Lots of beautiful busses and fancy fifth wheels. Every site was immaculate, and they have a lot of amenities we will skip due to the short stay with an early morning departure. But it was great to spend the entire workday in a single spot.

The dogs appreciated the break too.

Buckhorn Lake RV Resort had a hot tub as well, which was a wonderful 15 minutes during lunch (west coast time).

For dinner, Micki made meatloaf with turkey burger, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

Tomorrow, we’ll wake up early and do it again. Fortunately, we’re almost done with these one-day hops. Tomorrow we’ll head to Houston for our last one-night stand, then Saturday we’ll head to New Orleans for three nights, then to the Florida panhandle for two nights, then to central Florida for three nights. We’re looking forward to this mild relaxation in the travel schedule.

Five nights on the road – soon to be six – and it feels like more. We get up in the darkest hours of the morning when the Earth’s rotation is slowed. We pack ourselves and the dogs and begin driving in the direction of today’s tomorrow.

This process has helped me appreciate the moon even more. The moon has always been there, steady and magical in her way. My mom first taught me to appreciate the moon when I was young. As an artist, she made a point of including the moon as an artifact in nearly all her pieces. She elevated the moon to a place of deserved reverence, and that simple act cast my mom in her own magical light, also deserved.

When I was grown and we had kids of our own, we read books to them at night. One book stands out to me now: “Goodnight Moon.” If you haven’t read it, do so. Read it slowly, as you would when reading it aloud to a small child at bedtime. It is a deliberate appreciation of simple objects in our lives that we rely upon without thought or care. The book is brilliantly simple poetry, wishing “goodnight” to the light, the chairs, the clocks, the mouse, the comb, the red balloon, the stairs, and the air itself. The meditative pace of the book forces a moment of appreciation of all those things. For me, mostly the moon.

Rising early for travel, the moon greets us, and these past few days the moon has been particularly bright and eager to help. Turning in for the evening, the moon is there again steady as ever. The moon has phases, but she always comes back around full. The moon is reliable and forgiving.

Not the sun. The sun is fickle and fleeting and will hurt you if you let it. The sun is sometimes warm and playful and fun, but ultimately is unreliable and does not truly care about you. No matter how attractive, the sun will eventually let you down, guaranteed.

The stars are no better. They are too far away to know you exist, all huddled together in their little constellations. The stars cannot see you and wouldn’t give you the time of day (night) even if they did see you. They are cold and aloof. Don’t bother with the stars.

But oh how the moon shines. The moon looks upon me lovingly and follows me home to ensure I am unhurt. The moon is solid and trustworthy and glows even when she shows only a sliver of herself. The moon is enigmatic and intriguing yet full of grace for my imperfections. She has been with me a very long time. Even when I took her for granted, she remained unrelenting in her devotion.

These travels have reminded me to appreciate her all over again. Goodnight Moon. I love you forever.