Where We've Been - Part 2
Having been kicked out of Ft. Pickens, we found our way east to St. Andrews State Park for the three days we had before our next reservation. I don't have much to say about it. It rained one day, so we didn't get to do much. We did some shopping and ran some errands in Panama City but we didn't really get to experience much of this campground. Our site wasn't directly on the water, but we could actually see the water this time. Waterfront sites weren't on a beach, though. Still! Wow! Here we had tall pine trees and shade, which was nice for the privacy and for keeping us cool. The beach was a short drive away and just as in Ft. Pickens, the sand was soft and sugary white. It was windy and cold so we really didn't even get to take a walk on the beach. I'd like to go back and spend more time next year. I'll definitely have more to say about it.
I do have to say that I love the soft, clean white sand that the Florida panhandle has to offer. The temperatures in November and December are temperate though the water is too cold to swim in, that is, unless you are a a border collie.
We are now at Carrabelle, FL., a little farther east on the panhandle at the Carrabelle Beach RV Park. This area is known as "The Forgotten Coast." Here we can see the water from across the campground and a highway. I don't like there being a highway between the campground and the beach, but the sites are professionally landscaped, albeit more narrow. We have the pleasure of having full hookups including sewer, which we now realize makes things substantially more convenient. This area allows the puppies to come onto the beach!
The campground is in Carrabelle Beach, Florida but the village of Carrabelle, adjacent to it, is a quaint little fishing village, virtually undiscovered by tourism. The natives are typical of small towns, scowling upon newcomers as if they are a part of an evil coup with the sole purpose of extinguishing the old town and replacing it with acres and acres of beach-eating condos, hotels, bicycle shops, boardwalks, and touristy shops. I get it. I would feel the same were it my own town. Here, I do believe that time will make their fear a reality.
Carrabelle and Carrabelle beach are rich with history. The beach was used as a training station for WWII and D-day drills back in the 1940s. Here is a link for some of that history:
There is a historical light house which is a short walk from the campground. Today Michael and I climbed it. Most lighthouses have narrow, winding stairways to the top but the Crooked River Lighthouse was like climbing stairs inside a large pipe with a few tiny windows. I was intimidated a little, perhaps it was a touch of claustrophobia, but I found that if I kept hold of the railing I was able to beat back the discomfort. I thought of my beloved father, who has claustrophobia. He would never have been able to climb this. It was incredibly beautiful from the top, just above the level of the 80' - 100' piney woods on one side and looking out over the ocean on the other. Now we can say that we have been there, done that, and gotten the button. I didn't have my camera, though, so I'm JUST going to HAVE to make another climb up for pictures!
Christmas on the beach is special here. The town comes together as a fishing village and they have a winter boat parade of lights. It's a very special gathering of natives, visitors, and neighbors. It is boats unbelievably well decorated with lights, dancing Santas, and Christmas trees. It is fireworks, live music, artisans, smells of roasting peanuts, laughing children and fun. Michael and I took the three dogs and enjoyed the attention they all got, especially Iris with her cute little pink dog diaper. It was cold but that didn't deter the turnout. Excitement was in the air when the sun went down and there was an expectant silence as the police boat came by blowing its siren and the boat floats began to slip by one by one. There were boats of all sizes and shapes. No boat was too small. There was even a kayak with a lit Christmas tree on it and a Zodiac inflatable boat! I tried so hard to get good photos of the parade but unfortunately, an iPhone is as suitable for taking photos of moving boats at night lit with Christmas lights as my dog is for changing the oil in MARIS. Sorry, Roxy! You're a smart dog but...
Anyway, the parade was magical. We watched from a little gazebo that was right on the water, smiling as the children and adults watched and shouted "Merry Christmas!" Topping off the mood and the best part of all, was standing there in the cold with Michael's arms around me, snuggling together to stay warm. "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!" OK, no snow please. Finally, the cold drove us back to the Jeep. Even the dogs were anxious to get warm. As we drove back toward MARIS, we pulled over to watch the fireworks display that followed the parade. It was pretty impressive for such a small town and it was well worth braving the cold. Here is a link for the Carrabelle.org description of the parade. I don't know how long this will be an active link so don't be surprised if it doesn't pull the page up.
We have now been at this campground for almost three weeks. It is hard to believe how fast time slips by. We have gotten the opportunity to make some wonderful new friends, including a couple in the neighboring coach. Bob and Shirley travel with two standard poodles who have made friends with Roxy, Iris, and Skye and who also enjoy long trots on the beach. It was so nice to get to know them (the people as well as their dogs), to share a meal, and to compare our stories of coach issues, travel destinations, and dog considerations. They left this morning to return to their home in Canada but plan to return soon. Sadly, we will be gone by the time they return. It is entirely possible that our paths will cross here next fall and Michael and I really look forward to seeing them again. There were others we met who also plan to return next year.
The idea of seeing familiar faces year after year appeals to me. It's like becoming a part of a special society of roving gypsies. Before long, we'll be making special hand gestures as we pass coaches we recognize on the highway. It'll be like the Hell's Angels of the roving RV gypsy world.
Last night, December 17th, felt like a scene out of The Hound and the Baskervilles. After dark, fog rolled in off the bay and embraced the area in a muffled silence. It felt like we were under a blanket fort sharing secrets like little kids. The bear crossing signs left us listening for the little dumpster divers and the sound of the breakers periodically cut through the blankets, added to The Hound mood. I could almost hear the howl of wolves.
Driving home from dinner in the next town over, cutting through the fog, we passed the Crooked River lighthouse. My heart stopped as we drove by. It was ON!!! I don't believe that I have ever seen a lighthouse actually functioning. My mind was swept back in time and I was on the top of the tall tower, watching for ship lights through the fog and mist, wearing heavy, wet, yellow rain slicks. I visualized rocky cliffs below me being whipped by angry breakers into foamy black late-night sea latté.
The mood stuck with me all night and the memory of that lighthouse, beam sweeping by as it revolved, was a second in time that will be frozen in my mind for the rest of my life. Small little things sometimes make deep impressions and this is unmistakably one of them.
It's definitely time to end this rather long blog entry. I had hoped to take more pictures to include but on second thought, it's time to end this and move on to the next.
I'd love to hear from you all in the comments section underneath. That way I know you're out there! ;-)