Florida Hiking Vignettes

Our recent Florida canoeing trip was heavily photographed, unlike many others in the past.  While the total hours paddling was a modest 35.5, the photos taken ran to many hundreds, taken with 5 different cameras.  An equal (or greater) number of hours were hiked and birded.  This post attempts to condense five separate days of hiking shots, and contains, amoung other things, a nearly-thousand-year-old tree, a rare White Dove, a beautiful blue spring with freedivers, six trails and two model horses!  Thirty-four pix!  vignettes my foot,...  Any paddling posts are going to have to wait.  

Blogging is a good way to commemorate, if not completely recall, these family trips.  Come with me on what may have been our last journey South with the canoe --- and enjoy it as much as we did! 

Colavita stealing the show

We started, Feb 20th, at Fort Island Beach, on the Gulf, and walked some local trails there.  One is called Redfish Hole trail, a name made nicer by my recent addiction to Swedish Fish.  :)  While some of these pix of course have horses in them, surprise, more do not.  I refuse to completely abandon this lifelong habit but often it's just handier not having to set them up.  Below:  beautiful palm forest with cabbage palm (sabal palmetto), Florida's most common wild palm tree.

 Most of Redfish Hole trail is more like this, with pines, scrub oaks and grasses on sand.

While we were based in Homosassa, Chassahowitzka WMA [Wildlife Management Area] was next.  On Feb 21st we went to a small but very interesting trail, Big Cypress Boardwalk.  We'd never been there before.  This was a one-trick-pony place and I unfortunately did not shoot the forest along the sides of the nice boardwalk.  But I did run and hike back and forth along it at least 3 times, pent up for exercise. 

Photo by George Young

The trouble with 900-year-old trees is you can't really appreciate them unless you're right up next to them.  Unless you've seen other Cypresses and know how big they can get, they look ho-hum.  On the rivers we've seen trees larger than this.  Cypresses are tremendously individualistic and the older they are the freakier they get.  (This post has some cypress pix in the middle:  Forest Primevals.)

 The signs claimed this tree was hollow and thus spared from the turn-of-the-20th-century loggers.  I have to say it's unusual for a cypress this old not to be 'topped' or have its top snapped off.  Topping usually doesn't stop them at all;  they keep growing in the most amazing ways.

By bending sidewise and using creative zoom I got the whole thing in one frame.  Let the distortion of the railings give you a clue as to true size.

 On the 23rd we had an exciting multi-trail day.  Deep in Chassahowitzka WMA we made our way first to Cypress Circle trail.

This trail encircled a large cypress stand or 'dome' as they are called.  The domes typically are flanked by palmettos and then oak forest.  A mere foot of elevation in the soil makes all the difference;  cypress domes sit on poorly-drained places while the oaks and pines like the well-drained sandy ground.

This was a long, open, peaceful and yes hot walk.  The transition between the flora zones was as abrupt as the above shot shows.  In no way is Florida consistent with her forests!  The below view shows the tops of the dome appearing beyond the palmettos.  At this time of year [Feb], the cypress leaves are just barely beginning to show.

Our second trail was right across the dirt parking lot from the first.  Alas, no turkeys.

Though this trail was shorter, it seemed as long since we were tireder.  The scruffy oak forests showed uncovered sand in places.  Occasional pricky pear appeared.  Open parts revealed dramatic, statuesque pine trees:  Sand Pine and Slash Pine mostly.

This trail also gave us a view of baby Turkey Oaks.  Would you believe those little burning-red sprouts are actually oak trees?

After a typical in-car lunch, we left the dirt parking lot and headed out for our third goal of the day, Buford Springs.  The road there gave me this post's frontispiece -- I thought the S-shaped curl was a great calendar shot.  I saw it in the rearview and asked to stop and shoot it.  This view probably captures the essence of driving in Florida with George:  We are miles from anywhere.

 Buford Springs is a diving place, a natural spring hole in the Florida limestone.

 It is reached by a half-mile trail wide enough for scuba-diving-equipment carts but closed to cars.

This time I shot some side views.  It may not be Tarzan's jungle but it is reminiscent of Fakahatchee Preserve State Park, which I have been to and which really is as wildly tropical as Florida gets.

Buford Springs trail boasted some fine Epiphyte clusters.  So far we'd seen only 2 kinds, of which this grass-like one is the most common.  The plant does not harm the host tree in any way;  it just uses its structure as a convenient place to hang out.

We were on the trail for birds, and not involved with diving in any way.  This made our contact with divers rather, umm, socially shy.  Birding is a solitary sport;  diving, not at all -- they always go in pairs or threes.  As canoers who have paddled FL springs, we could appreciate this incredible body of beautiful blue water deep in the forest;  but as onlookers, we did not even dip our toes (though I did fish out some trash when no one was looking).  

It is so fascinating to see a water sport of which we know so little, so close up.  Those plumes of bubbles are from scuba divers already beneath the lip of the cave.  Below:  the water emerges from the springs and flows away into the forest in a river.  As I've told on my FB, this was my first time seeing freedivers.  They could stay under for up to 45 seconds (we timed them) by holding their breath. 

It was so beautiful and peaceful to sit there and watch them. 

 After we left and were safely alone again on the trail back, I indulged myself with a horse pic.  I'd brought one foal.  (Cozmic One to the hobby.)  My original intention was to name him in FL but a week before departure he came up with one on his own:  Cahuenga [p. kah-wenga].  Those who know me will not be surprised to learn that Cahuenga was the street upon which Edward Bohlin's saddle shop was located.

Didn't I say I'd bitten off more than I could chew with this post?!?  We'll finish off with 2 more places, either of which could've been a whole post in themselves, and the second will feature Colavita (Breyer's Miss Independence) seen in the beginning.

On Feb  27, after we'd changed bases to Apalachicola, Salinas Park on St Joe's Peninsula gave me my closest insight yet into the mindset of a trophy hunter.    

 I really can't describe it other than to say I went temporarily crazy.  The desire to secure [a pic of] a fabulous rare animal swept over me and all else fell before it.  I'm afraid a family squabble happened because of this bird.  Such passion -- as though it were a unicorn or a white stag!  In fact, it was merely a leucistic Mourning Dove.

 It's not like I'd never seen leucistic or partial-albino animals or even birds before, although the Mourning Dove was a first.  It was clear from the start what it was.  I scrambled with my cell, but in the end the best pix were taken with my digital Fuji.

 The Fuji allowed better close ups and finer focus.  The flock was moving around on the grass and I could easily get them in view.  

 It was an amazingly pretty bird.  I snapped and snapped.  I chased it across the road.  I think my total came to 18 pictures, clear evidence of besottedness.  I even took a movie.  Let's see if Blogger will let me upload it:

 The lesson of the White Dove, if there is one, would be to pay more attention to the efforts of your birding partner when he is trying to help you, and not cling so hard to your own frame of reference,...

 On Feb 27 we went to St George's Island and the East Slough Overlook trail of the Dr Julian G Bruce SGI State Park.  There are some very nice boardwalks along this trail.  The day was seriously foggy.  I'm not going to brighten these photos.  Here's the long boardwalk without Colavita/Miss Independence,

 and with her.

If you're curious, I have whitened her mane.  That's Dry the Sea's Orange Hackamore, which should be familiar to readers.  Dry's Orange  Here's the other side:  of the horse?  of the trail!

Although it's not captured in the above, there was a Bald Eagle nesting tree in that rank of pines.  Alas, although signs were up to prevent hikers from coming near it, it was abandoned by the birds.

Alone, out here in the wild, on trips, yes I do sometimes ride them, at least pictorially.

 

This shot was taken at our turnaround point, a bridge across the marsh.  It shows a little of the fog racing past.  This day really was rather unusual with its moving fog.  I liked the path of the lighter reeds showing the water channel.

 Something I haven't covered much in these FL posts is the flowers.  My dear travel partner is extremely devoted to shooting flowers, sometimes taking a dozen shots of the same bloom.  But here I was interested myself.  These lovely yellow trumpets were only found in a few places along the mile-and-a-half trail.

 I was unable to resist touching.  Don't ask what flowers these are;  alas, for all our knowledge, we did not know their name, although we've encountered (and shot) them before.

 My last photo for St George's Island is this one, from a pullover on E Beach Gulf drive, on the way back home.  It captures the faraway tropical feel of my Florida experiences:  straggly palm trees, salt grass meadows, and endless distances over the water.  

 We had some good times, and we'll be back.

 

A Minor Miracle

 Since my blogging efforts have been bogged down by biting off more than I could chew (three weeks of Florida, hundreds of photos from 5 cameras, hiking birding canoeing), I am trying a much smaller subject.  I've just completed a week of dusting my entire herd -- deep cleaning, rearranging, sorting out sales pieces, cleaning and repairing shelves, documenting lost entries -- and in the process, a minor miracle happened.  I found Rigel's lost horn.

We last saw him on December 13, when I posted this forlorn portrait to my FaceBook:

 At that time this little Rigel unicorn did not have a personal herd name.  Since then, he's acquired not only a name but parents.  Uffington pretty much had to be the sire, in my herd named Albedo;  the dam's choice came to rest on the satin cremello 'Girls Rule the World' Winx/Emerson, in my herd named Kiss Away.  They all three have those Breyer cremello blue eyes.  His name comes from a 9-book science fiction series by James S. A. Corey, the Expanse:  "Zehatan"  from Expanse #8, Tiamat's Wrath.  It's a country in a new galaxy (one of 1373 such, though not all are named).  I refer you to exhaustive science fiction series for a ton of names -- !

So I came home from Florida and dragged myself into dusting the whole herd, something that hadn't happened in at least 8 years and probably more.  The glitter in their dust, PearlEx accumulating from 5 NaMoPaiMos, had been bothering me more and more.  The stuff is toxic.  I put on a mask and ran the air filter.  Shelf by shelf, I took off the scarves and ribbons lining them, shook my head at the damage (one shelf had rusted and took some sanding) and went at it.  These 3 photos show how I moved through the job, starting at the uppermost left and going top to bottom.

 Above and below taken March 21. 

This last shot, near the end, was taken March 25.  There are 2 shelves hidden from view at the bottoms.  For all my trying, only a little shelf space was gained.  :(  You can spot the Rigel foal, fourth in from the lowest right corner, beyond Vail, Winter Wonderland and the Stone Irish Draft.  He is next to the cremello Winx.  When he fell, he hit the electric register below (see next pic).

 So much for biting off more than I could chew!!  I guess I needed some deep spring cleaning;  and the horses have always been the first and best recipients of my intentions.  I had forgotten about Zehatan's missing horn tip, and was completely astounded when I spotted it lying on the carpet, next to the air conditioner I keep down there.

(What?! You don't keep spare air conditioners on the floor of the tack room?) 

 I can only guess that his original accident ricocheted the tip onto a higher shelf, and when I pulled the scarf off, I flipped it onto the floor.  Maybe I just dislodged it from where it had been hiding;  air conditioners (never mind all the other junk!) have lots of hiding places.  Miracle indeed.

I laid out the tools and supplies needed for repairing one unicorn horn on March 27.  The tip is in the faience bowl, the spool stainless steel wire is for the pin, the blue case holds drill bits, the orange tube is my old Ambroid glue (at least 30 years old by now but still good) and the pin vise has its own braided leather handle.

 In the process, I changed my mind.  The gauge of the pin went from 28 to 25 and it got a lot shorter.  I couldn't drill very deep and had to content myself with ramming it into place by hand, before gluing.

 This final portrait is brought to you by my magnifying glass.  I love how his ears appear.  A unicorn should have shaggy ears, or perhaps we could say fluffy?  This is truly my herd's only unicorn, so we have just the one data point.  Yes, the lines show where I glued on his chip, but I'm so happy to have him whole again and I truly don't mind.

 Good luck to all who are trying to mend broken things, cleaning what needs cleaning and sanding off the rust.

Kotinga Layer 11: Finished

 

Quietly, but with brimming delight, I made the decision Wednesday afternoon the 11th to declare victory.  The eleventh layer, the pure PearlEx one, was the last before the peeling of the tapes.  I was satisfied.  I was also out of time;  a 3-week family trip loomed in mere days (packing) and other demands (taxes) were fast approaching.  Normally I hate deadlines but in this case it was a blessing.

Layer 11 after

 The tapes, put on more than a month ago, could now come off.   The process took  more time and care than I'd thought needful.  A few little spots had turned coppery with the pastel filtering through, but they were easily wiped clean -- that's glossy OF plastic under there.  For contrast, here's a view of Kotinga when they first went on, January 9th:

 Here's the only picture taken 'mid-peel:' 

  

This shot (below) is the one I posted to the FB group.  To quote: "I hadn't originally intended for this to be the first completed glimpse, but it is the first time I saw him finished myself, and in the end I couldn't resist.  The official photo is in the album but this is the one that tells a story."   Official = bridled, album = NaMoPaiMo completion.

 In case you're wondering whether I'm PhotoShopping the color:  Of course I am -- reducing the saturation, amoung other things --!!  My lamps and camera just don't take his real color into account,...

 Here's my traditional shoot spot, out on the back deck railing, Feb. 12th.  This is honestly the first time anyone could go out on deck;  it was snowbound during all 11 of Kotinga's days.

Now at last we can start seeing close ups and faces.  I'd put a swatch of white where I wanted a forelock.  However there was no 3D material there and right now it looks like part of his blaze, a curious but not unknown tobiano effect.  I'd forgotten the tiny 'kissy spot' on his upper lip;  that is genuine Original Finish.

 Switching to indoor photography (a foregone conclusion, it was on-and-off snowing that day), I first documented the end results of his various 'adventures.'  Here's the Amazon scratch.

Offside hip scratch

 This is the final shoulder pit:

Near shoulder

 And this is how the chest area turned out.  I was particularly pleased with the PearlEx here.  The whole area nearly disappeared under that gold and I decided that was beautiful.

 Since this is NaMoPaiMo I want to drop in a word about signing one's model.  (I haven't done Kotinga yet.)  I unfortunately don't know the painter of the original Stone Jingleheimer Schmidt.  I will try to squeeze abbreviations onto his hoof bottoms or somewhere to indicate that that was what he started as;  I can't take all the credit.  Fret not they would wear off;  I tattoo my NaMos with drafting ink.  Signing

Now, of course, I turned to tack.  Oh baby.  Trigger lives.  I care not how corny it must be to hold to an ideal set so long ago, the palomino in a silver saddle chosen because he looked the best on black-&-white TV.  I simply love this horse.  I have tried so hard for him, and here he is.

As it happened there were only 2 silver Parade saddle sets on hand that were good enough for the job.  And one of them wasn't by me--!!   Cary Nelson's so-called Russian set will be seen here, a treat for you patient readers.  (I will get around to blogging about it,... some day...)  The first bridle on him had to be my own TSII #400, built in 1997.  This is the one in the official NMPM finish photo.  Here we can catch just a suggestion of the prism tape colors.

Number 400's browband was too large, and I turned to the Russian.  This portrait came out well:

 The pose I'd had in mind all along, Kotinga wearing only a silver bridle, was a challenge with this piece of tack.  One reason I didn't use this shot for the official one was because I didn't want to be forever explaining about the tail.  The reins are so long that winding the romal through the tail was the only way to keep them positioned.

 Here's a nice close up.  The bridle is more delicate than TSII #400's, and takes more care to put on; but those throatlatch conchos (along with the rest) really pop.

 Finally, I went ahead and fitted the entire saddle to him.  The puffiness of the corona blanket is quite obvious.  Cary stuffed it thickly on purpose, because real ones are like that.  It's a way to help distribute the weight.  The cinch, hiding behind the fender here, has a little black tassel.

 We will end this stretch of palomino indulgence with a classic view.   (Then I think he should go off on his honeymoon with Sassy...)

My thank you list, in addition to all the usual suspects listed in my previous NaMos, includes Kathy Bogucki who sculpted this fantastic horse.  I have really come to know this model intimately!  Cary Nelson is to be commended for an amazing piece of tack (as well as Christie Partee who let me have it).  Fellow bloggers old and new deserve mention:  Lynn Isenbarger, Anne Field, Melissa Grant, Bobbie Coulter, Kirsten Wellman, Teresa Rogers, 'fabala' and Lesli Kathman.  Ryan Morrisey is an unknowing accessory to the crime:  She sold me this horse without any idea I was going to destroy him,.. and then resurrect him.  Erin Michelle of Stone Horses should be on this list, as she was instrumental, though indirectly, in my decisions to attempt him.

Finally, an unending round of applause for the original instigator of NaMoPaiMo, Jennifer Buxton, and those who support it;  and for George my husband.  You have helped my dream come true.