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St. Augustine 2024 Day 1

Wednesday 3 July 2024

Morning

The shells on the beach just at the edge of the surf were visible for only a few moments before the white bubbles and turbulence hid them again.

In the brief time I could clearly see them in the shallow water, it was obvious most of the shells were only fragments, often smaller than the smallest coins, slivers well on their way to becoming grains of sand. Every now and then, a shard would catch my eye, and I would think, “I might try to grab that one” just before incoming wave hid them once again.

By then it was too late: once the water cleared up, the tide would have tkane the shard so far away from its original position that finding it was all but impossible. Another might catch my eye, but then the process would simply repeat itself.

To get a shell required calm and patience followed by a paradoxical ability to move quickly when needed. Hesitation meant the loss of the moment. In some ways, that’s a metaphor for live in general for many people. Everything is about getting the right moment, and when that fails, increased stress is the outcome.

Yet the older I get, the more I realize the error in living like that and the unnecessary stress it causes. Yes, I might not get that exact shell that I wanted, but there were plenty of other shells that were just as lovely, often more so.

Evening

In the evening, after we’d spent a few hours back at the Airbnb, after we’d spent some time downtown and had dinner, we headed back to the beach.

I took a few pictures:

and the Boy took a few pictures:

A short walk to end a lovely day.

And we got home, and I saw the fantastic news from the Tour de France: Mark Cavendish got his record-breaking 35th stage win, assuring him the historic title “The Greatest Sprinter of All Time!”

Almost as enjoyable as watching the win itself was seeing the other riders’ reaction to the amazing win.

Previous First Day

St. Augustine, Day 1

Tampa to St. Augustine via Gainesville

Tuesday 2 July 2024

We left our lovely hotel room with an incredible view to head to St. Augustine for the second half of our Florida vacation. It’s the second time we’ve been to St. Augustine as a family, the third time for the kids and me. That is to say, we really like St. Augustine.

Along the way, we made perhaps the most important stop of the whole week: a few hours in Gainesville. What’s so special about Gainesville? Well, it has a fantastic Korean restaurant, as we discovered for lunch. And rocker Tom Petty is a Gainesville native. But neither of those was the real reason we went to Gainesville. Our primary motivation has to do with our daughter, who is going to college in about a year. Going to college in about a year. Her number one choice of colleges: University of Florida, which is located in — guess — Gainesville. She wants to study bio-engineering, and Florida University has one of the best programs in the nation for that.

So we stopped by for a tour of the university. I tried not to talk too much or take too many pictures. The Girl remained relatively quiet during the tour. But we came away with a positive impression: the parents are happy with some of the safety programs the university implements; the Girl is happy with the college as a whole, especially one of the enormous chemistry labs we got to take a peek at.

Afterward, we headed to St. Augustine and our lovely Airbnb spot: a bungalow in an absolutely beautiful part of town. Walk to the end of the street, and this is the street we see:

Yes, that’s a peacock taking a stroll down a Live-Oak-lined street. It’s positively bajkowy.

Lovely houses as well. And the peacock? They’re from Ponce de Leon’s Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park, an ethnographic museum literally at the end of our street.

We weren’t planning on visiting any real attractions while in St. Augustine, but since it’s just down the road, we’re thinking we might. We’ll definitely visit the Cuban coffee cafe down the street.

A games night rounded out our evening: our Airbnb has several entertainment options, including a ping pong table. Poor K gets knocked around in board games, card games, and our front-yard badminton games, but she really knows how to play ping pong.

“Don’t worry,” she assured us, “I’ll take it easy on you.” And proceeded to trounce us all one after another, beer in hand.

Myrtle Beach 4

Monday 28 June 2021

Back at home, I finally got a chance to download images from the X100. I used my phone for most pictures (even though I always insisted I would never do that), but a few times I pulled out the little digital rangefinder.

Myrtle Beach 2

Saturday 26 June 2021

When we woke up this morning, it was raining. It’s bad enough that it’s raining when you’re at the beach; it’s even worse when you’re at the beach saying in what the children have come to call a “crusty hotel.”I suppose that’s What you get when you try to save a little money. Because even if you save money one way you’re going to pay for another. Still there is a right side to staying in this crusty hotel: it makes us stay away from it.

So in the morning we head to an aquarium.

In the afternoon when it clears up, we go to the beach. And in the evening, the SkyWheel.

Myrtle Beach 1

Friday 25 June 2021

WiFi not working at the hotel; cell service not allowing image upload very willingly. At not for want of trying.

In the end, I guess the streak still technically continues.

Lake Jocassee 2019

Thursday 8 August 2019

Just a little over a year ago, we went camping for the first time at Lake Jocassee — not our first visit, but our first time camping there — and we knew that we would have to go back. Again. And again. This year, we returned, taking our same camp site — our beloved Site 20 — and going to the same places, doing the same things. With one difference: K, finishing up a course, stayed home.

“I can study better for the final without you all anyway,” she rationalized, but of course we all wanted her to go with us as much as she wanted to be there.

Still, it created a new dynamic as I explored an adventure with the Boy and the Girl. There’s a difference in fun in threes that makes us rely on each other a little more and realize — for the millionth time — just how much K brings to our family.

For one thing, we’re much more relaxed about getting started in the morning. If it were not for K, I don’t think we’d get half the things done we usually get done. K is the early riser in the family, and even when we’re on vacation, she makes sure we’re up and eating at a decent out, out for our first adventure, ready for our second well before lunch. Without her, we managed breakfast by 9:00, usually making it to the water an hour later as we went to get ice for the cooler, to drop off the trash, and to accomplish various meaningless tasks.

Part of that might have been the inability to split tasks due to having only one adult present, but honestly, we just got up a lot later than we would have earlier.

It’s tempting to say that everything else was the same, but how could it be? Everyone’s a year older, a year wiser. The Boy made a friend and spend a good bit of time on his own with his friend J, in sight but most decidedly independent. The Girl floated out to an isolated area and lived in her own world at times. The Dog wanted — actually begged — to get in the water.

The next day was more of the same, but with a major change: the rock we discovered last year that was simply a lovely spot to go and watch the sunrise and do some fishing, became a jumping platform. The Girl, seeing me and others do it, leapt into the water without much hesitation at all. The Boy? Well, J his new friend was there, jumping off with abandon. The Boy didn’t wait: off he went after a quick check to make sure I was in the water to help him if needed.

Lake Jocassee, Day 3

Thursday 9 August 2018

I don’t remember how the idea came about, but somehow we got into our heads to get up in time to watch the sun rise over the lake. We knew that either the small beach or the rock (or both) would provide an excellent view, so we got up just as the sky was brightening and headed to the beach. L, deep asleep and unresponsive to most everything, stayed behind.

We first went to the beach, but that was a mistake: a small rise on the other side of the lake blocked the view of the sun breaking over the horizon so that by the time it was visible over the rise, it was relatively high in the sky. It took some work in Lightroom to make the shot look like a sunrise when in fact, it looked like this.

We decided that we should check out the rock outcropping with the idea that we might try again the next day. It was clearly the better location of the two.

The Boy was with us, but he wasn’t really interested in the sunrise. He wanted to fish. I’d mentioned the previous day that early morning efforts lead to greater fishing success, so when he heard us talking about going out to watch the sunrise, he was eager to take his fishing pole with him.

I talked him into heading out onto the rock outcropping and he cast his line. I positioned myself so the sun was just out of the frame and clicked off a picture. I didn’t really think anything of it, didn’t really think it would be an image of much more significance than all the other pictures I took, but when I got it home and in Lightroom, I had one of those rare experiences as an amateur photographer: I thought, “I took that picture?!”

Definitely, it’s in my top five all-time best pictures.

Morning we spent on the small beach. We weren’t the only ones with that idea, though.

That could have been a bad thing, but camping brings out a certain type of family, generally speaking, and we all were getting along famously soon enough. One of the families had small, child-size kayaks, and we asked if E could try it out.

He was instantly hooked. “We have to get one of these.”

He enjoyed kayaking with adults as well, but not nearly as much. That independence, once he got a taste of it, was incomparable.

Finally, as we were getting dinner ready, the Boy noticed a young man in a neighboring tent site.

“Mommy, can I go play with him? He looks bored.” We went over what he should say, had a little practice session with him (“Hi, my name is E. Would you like to play?”), and sent him on his way.

Lake Jocassee, Day 2

Wednesday 8 August 2018

The Boy and I began the second day with a walk while the girls took the kayak out for a spin. We followed various paths and made a couple of discoveries. First, there was a playground nearby. We never used it again. Second, there was an amazingly small beach just down the shore from the tent camping sites that promised a much lovelier swimming experience than the large public beach.

After lunch, we all headed to the beach, hoping to get the dog further into the water. K had the brilliant idea of simply holding Clover and walking her out to a deeper part of the lake. She stood there with the dog, constantly reassuring her that everything was okay, and then let her swim back to the shore. That seemed to be all it took because she was generally fine with the water after that. Generally.

In the afternoon, the Boy and I headed out in the canoe, where we made a second discovery: a large rock protruding from the shore was just on the other side of the campground.

In the evening we checked out the two discoveries with the girls. Everyone declared that we must never go back to the public beach again, and the Boy declared that the large rock would be a perfect spot for fishing. The large crowd of teenagers determined it was the perfect spot for tomfoolery, but that’s what teens do.

Lake Jocassee, Day 1

Tuesday 7 August 2018

There’s a part of me that really doesn’t like camping. I don’t know if it’s the looming inconveniences (what if I can’t sleep? what if we get a huge rainstorm that floods everything?) or the drudgery of setting up camp and then breaking it back down — I just don’t like it in a way. If I truly felt that way, I guess I’d still go camping with my family because they all enjoy it so much, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t feel that way. Well, at times I’m a little frustrated with the whole process of breaking down a campsite, especially after it’s rained. It’s even worse if things are still wet and we have to pack them nonetheless.

But even that is only a mild convenience, and it doesn’t even figure into the joy of the start of a camping trip when the equipment is all set up and clean.

This weekend, we camped at Lake Jocassee for the first time. We’ve been there a time or two — probably only once, now that I think about it — just on day trips, but this was a four-day, three-night camping trip to end the summer. It was supposed to be to begin the summer: our reservation was originally for Memorial Day, but the weather didn’t cooperate. This timing was much better, though: a last hurrah before the start of the school year.

This trip introduced a novel element, though, an element that both K and I were worried about: we brought the dog. She’s not a calm dog; when she gets excited, she’s still not an obedient dog; when she’s around new people and places, she gets very hyper — together, these three facts made us wonder whether we might end up regretting it.

“The dog will be on-leash the whole time,” we told the kids. “Make sure the dog does not get off leash ever,” we repeated. I had visions Clover running around the campground, jumping on people, knocking down unsuspecting children, lawsuits piling up if she got off-leash.

In short, I was a pessimist about the whole thing. “If push comes to shove, we’re only an hour and change away from home. I’ll just take her home if she’s crazy,” I told K. We agreed that it was a sound plan.

We’d planned on renting a tandem kayak for the weekend, and we thought we’d always be split up: one person with one child, the other with the other child (who would be cranky about not being on the kayak) and the dog, which in truth I feared would be more burdensome than then cranky child. It turned out that no one was cranky about being left behind and the dog was — well, more on that later.

And so we arrived on Saturday morning, set up the tent, and went swimming in the cool water of Lake Jocassee. We took the dog with us, and she was predictably terrified of water. It’s what’s made bathing her such a chore that we rarely do it. Things were different this time. L spent last week at K9 Cadet camp with Clover, and one of the things she learned was that you can’t give into a dog’s initial fear of water.

“Just correct her and tell her to come to you,” L explained. And it worked: the dog came out to the belly-deep water where we were standing and awaited further instruction.

“Sometimes that dog’s obedience shocks me,” I thought.

Deciding that was enough for an initial exposure, I stayed with the dog for most of the remaining swim time, alternating between sitting with her and having her walk along the shore in shallow water.

We went back to the tent, fixed dinner, and went to bed early, finishing up the evening with a bit of in-tent gaming.

The kids played Super Farmer with K. The game is odd: a Polish game (at least we got it in Poland and K remembered playing it most of her life) that involves building a farm by rolling dice and getting farm animals. You trade up: x bunnies can trade for y sheep and so on. Until you roll a fox or a wolf, which wipes you out partially or entirely.

The Boy was getting frustrated with losing all his hard-earned gains to wild predators, so they all agreed to play without the dangerous animals.

If only we could play life like that. Of course, we could — it’s not that difficult. All we have to do is agree to play by the same rules and we’d have no foxes or wolves to worry about. K and I talked about that that first evening, looking out at Lake Jocasssee, a man-made lake that is the same age as I. “We can make lakes and send people to the moon, but we can’t get along.”

And while there are some down sides to camping, one of the great up-sides is this: it attracts like-minded people. You don’t find many wolves in campgrounds; you don’t find many overly-materialistic people setting up tents; you don’t find superficial outlooks among the campers. So perhaps that’s some progress.

Everglades, Day 1

Friday 13 July 2018

We arrived at the Everglades at a little past one, stopping for a lunch of alligator at a roadside cafe that had four and a half stars on Trip Advisor. One bite and we realized why. Much to my surprise, though the Girl ordered shrimp, she was quite eager to try the gator.

“Tasty, but too hard to chew,” she said.

The plan for the day: hit the national park as hard as possible for the last half of the day. The ranger had told us in the visitor center to leave the first walking path for last as that was where we would most likely find gators. We made it through several paths, including one that wound through the last few pines in the Everglades and one that highlighted an enormous mahogany tree. We saw gars and egrets, giant grasshoppers and snakes, but we still hadn’t managed to see what we were all hoping to see: an alligator in the wild.

We made it to the very last stop on the road, Flamingo Visitor Center and marina at the Florida Bay. The center had been ravaged by Hurricane Irma to the point that the national park service has decided to tear down the old center, dating likely from the late fifties or early sixties, and build entirely new facilities. We wandered around, saw a couple of manatees in the bay that were none too eager to do more than peek their head above the water for just moment.

By the time we made it back to Royal Palms visitor center to head up the Anhinga Trail, it was late in the afternoon, probably close to six. Early evening, I guess. We started up the trail, hoping to find some gators resting in the grasses that were along the trail when we discovered karma: a six-foot gator resting just by the trail, not moving, seemingly daring anyone to approach.

A French-speaking family stood and watched for a while until one of the daughters, seeing the size of the grasshoppers that were mating on the walkway railing and realizing just how close she was to the gator, broke down in tears and walked away, the rest of the family comforting her. She was probably around sixteen.

On the other side of the gator, a couple waited, presumably wondering whether or not to chance it. They would have approached from the tail end of the gator, so I would have thought they had the best chance of making it by without arousing the gator’s interest.

In all likelihood, any of us could have walked calmly by the animal without much danger at all. A quick glance at images Google shows from the trail indicates that it’s a common occurrence and that there are often many alligators sunbathing by the walkway. Still, with little kids in hand, there was no sense in doing anything more than admiring from a distance. After all, it’s not often one gets to see an animal that has been on the Earth for about 37 million years…