From a30c790edea652494e7481f6798047a3bc1fd4ea Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: luxagraf Date: Fri, 28 Jul 2023 13:43:36 -0500 Subject: added a backup of old pages that are no longer live --- bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.html | 570 ++++++++++++++++++++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.txt | 61 +++ .../jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.html | 552 +++++++++++++++++++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.txt | 52 ++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.html | 467 ++++++++++++++++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.txt | 44 ++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.html | 596 +++++++++++++++++++++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.txt | 42 ++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.html | 546 +++++++++++++++++++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.txt | 53 ++ 10 files changed, 2983 insertions(+) create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.txt create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.txt create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.txt create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.txt create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.txt (limited to 'bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03') diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..04d14e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.html @@ -0,0 +1,570 @@ + + + + + In The Forest - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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In the Forest

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Camel Lake, Apalachicola National Forest, Florida, U.S.

+ – Map +
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I went for a walk in the woods one afternoon during our time at Camel Lake. It was a mixed slash pine and palmetto forest, probably not more than ten years old in most of places, heavily logged and replanted. After you walk in enough woods it’s not hard to tell the re-planted areas, they’re a little too orderly, a little too deliberate, not quite as chaotic and wild as an untouched area, of which there are, at this point, very few. Especially around here.

+ + +

Not that I was complaining, they’re still beautiful woods. I went out to try to take some pictures of the bright greenish yellow butterflies we’d been watching drift through camp for the past few days. They look like someone colored them in with a highlighter and then brought them to life. I don’t know their name, but they look like green Cabbage Whites, except bright yellow, so I call them Cabbage Yellows.

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Even in the woods though they never stopped long enough to get a good look so I thought I’d go into the woods and see if I could find one to photograph. It turned out though, that they just don’t stop. Wherever they are headed they’re in a hurry to get there. In the week we were in this place I never saw one land.

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At some point on my walk I slipped off my flip flops and walked barefoot down the trail, feeling the soft sand and pine needles of the forest floor. This is something I’ve been doing for several weeks now. It all started when we were back at Fort Pickens. I was sitting round one day and happened to see some kids running barefoot down the road and one wince and stopped and wiped something off her foot. I smiled because I had a distinct memory of that, those early summer days when you’re free, but your feet are still tender from being cooped up all winter in shoes. I got to thinking though about how by the end of the summer you’d run across the same burning hot blacktop without ever feeling the heat or stopping to get the thorns out because your feet had grown so tough you know longer felt those things. I got to thinking about and decided there was really no reason I couldn’t make my feet tough like that again, it would just take some practice. And so ever since I’ve been going barefoot as much as I could.

+

That afternoon in the woods my feet were still on the tender side. Twice I had to stop to pick pine needs out of the arch of my foot. And it limited my ability to go crashing through the undergrowth chasing butterflies, but you have to have patience about these things.

+

I never did get a picture of my Cabbage Yellows, though I discovered that swallowtails do in fact land. Not very often and only atop the big, thorny, purple flowers of Purple Thistles. The thistles are thorny enough to have been named Cirsium horridulum, but the Swallowtails don’t seem to mind. They balance atop the thorns and dig into the flower, which they proceed to work over in a very orderly fashion, probing for nectar from one side to the other, millimeter by millimeter, until, I presume, they’ve either had their fill or exhausted the nectar from that flower, at which point they alight again in their grand looping flight that seems to have a kind of rhythm to it, though any actual pattern to their floating bouncing flutters remains just beyond my brain’s ability to recognize it.

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What you don’t want to do is walk barefoot into a bunch of Cirsium horridulum. Not until the end of summer anyway. And perhaps not even then, there are limits everything you know.

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The interesting thing about being barefoot that I do not remember from my youth is the sense of energy you get from it. It’s not exactly a discovery on my part, there are lots of very old names out there for this, martial arts tend to call it qi or chi, yoga calls it prana, druids have the best name in my opinion, the telluric current, one of the two great currents of nwyfre (life energy). Whatever you want to call it, you can feel it. Take off your shoes and put your feet on the dirt or grass or what have you and sit or stand with your eyes closed for about five minutes everyday for a few weeks and pay attention to sensations you notice. It’s interesting.

+

Unless you come here for stories of travel, in which case this may not be interesting. But I spent a lot of time here at Camel Lake thinking about it. There wasn’t a lot else to do. There was a small beach, a few fish in the lake, fish so small I don’t even have a hook small enough to get it in their mouths. I had fun trying to convince them to open a little wider though, dangling worm after worm and watching them snatch it away without ever getting on the hook. So if you go to Camel Lake one day and land a fat lazy bass that seems like it must have been hand fed, you’re welcome.

+ + + + +

There’s nothing to really draw you here, save a desire for peace and quiet. We ended up here partly because our luck with cancellations in the crowded beaches of the Panhandle finally ran out, or at least partly ran out. There were a few campgrounds at various places around St. Andrew Bay, just north a Grayton and Topsail that we could have stayed. And a few more down in the mess of Panama City, but we wanted to come inland for a bit. I’ve nothing against Panama City. It seems quite fashionable to look down on it these days, the white trash riviera as some call it. I’ve always rather liked the place, it has a unique charm. I’ve eaten the hell out of some oysters at Shuck’ums. I have the cup to prove it. Panama City Beach was the first place I came to in the Panhandle. I thought it was great then and I still like it now.

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What I don’t like is the new development west of it, all the gated communities and faux mixed development. Places with names like Royal Palms of Laguna Beach Shores or Laguna Beach Estates. Places that are all planned and new and clean and brightly lit and lifeless. A vast oasis devoid of magic. I’m glad everyone else goes there though, that way I can enjoy the redneck beaches full of biting midges, dilapidated bait shacks, abandoned buildings and people who are there to fish and sit and think and enjoy the silence, not serve up iced frappes and air conditioned smiles.

+

But that wasn’t what drove us inland really. We just wanted something different for a while. A forest rather than a beach. Too much of one thing — even when that one thing is some of the most perfect beaches in the U.S. — gets repetitive after a while. Sometime you need a change for no other reason than you just feel like it.

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When I got back from my walk the kids came running up wanting to go for a walk too. So I set out again, this time with them, though only Lilah stayed with me for more than a few minutes.

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We ended up across the road, following a trail that seemed to head into the darker, denser, older parts of the forest, but it turned out to be a river bottom, we soon crossed over and came up the other side into another logged area. She pointed out flowers and the curled, curved fern fronds just starting to stretch themselves out for the spring. She wanted to know why the ferns were lighter at the tip and much darker green toward the stalk.

+ + +

When a cell divides each new cell has only half the number of chloroplasts in it compared to the parent cell. It takes time for the chloroplasts themselves to divide so the cells as the tip of the new frond don’t have as many chloroplasts and aren’t therefore as dark green as those back at the base. For the record, my explanation to her at the time was not quite that coherent, but she seemed to be satisfied with it anyway. We got distracted shortly after by a pink and red and purple moth that was quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

+

Later that night the sunset turned a deep rich red that seemed to rise right up out of the forest and then faded into a gradient of purple that turned progressively darker shades of blue until it faded up into the blue-black clouds. A cardinal chirped through the woods just beyond the fire, grabbing a last seed or two before settling down the roost for the night. I watched it through the trees, standing next to the fire, hands cupped over it for warmth, wondering if this winter would ever end. At least the cold kept the Yellow Flies at bay, otherwise this little lake in the woods, tucked somewhere in the Apalachicola river basin, might be miserable.

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The next morning we packed up and headed on south again, tracing the river on down to the sea.

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5 Comments

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+ DREW ELDRIDGE + April 16, 2018 at 8:15 a.m. +
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Did you get a new lens or lighting? Your DOF on macro is getting really good! Also, barefoot is FL is great- but they have that little clump of cooka burrow grass down there that will cripple a man. No clue what its called- but it sucks.

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+ Scott + April 16, 2018 at 10:05 a.m. +
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@Drew-

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I hate those burr things.

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And for the life of me I can’t find out what they’re called, it’s like Google has no idea what I’m talking about. But yes, they really hurt. At this point though I have enough callouses that they only get me in the arch of my foot. Which hurts like hell, but luckily hasn’t happened much lately.

+

As for the lens, nothing new, just my 2 100mms. The busier bokeh is a Minolta and the smoother is an Olympus. Neither is technically a macro. I usually use the Minolta for portraits because it’s a little softer, but it happened to be on my camera when I went for a walk and I sorta liked the results. In a couple cases I went back with the Olympus and a tripod. I keep thinking about getting a proper macro lens, but my lens collection is in danger of surpassing the wife’s shoe collection, which is not allowed.

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+ DREW ELDRIDGE + April 18, 2018 at 8:36 a.m. +
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That busy bokeh like on the photo where the childs hand is reaching for the fern is intense. Its almost like a oil painting- It seems very random.

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You dont need another new expensive lens. Just get some decent extension tubes that maintain your auto focus. You can find them from $40 to $150 depending. I have found the cheaper ones work just fine though.

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+ Scott + April 18, 2018 at 10:08 a.m. +
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@Drew- That’s the minolta 100 f/2.5 I think. Maybe f/2.8. And yeah, it goes a little crazy sometimes. It does better with a long distance between fore and background, like a portrait with a distance background.

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I need to check out extension tubes, I just picked up a teleconverter to turn my 200 into a 400, so next I’ll have to go the other way with an extention tube.

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No autofocus though, I don’t currently own a single autofocus lens.

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+ DREW ELDRIDGE + April 18, 2018 at 1:00 p.m. +
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Even better- you just need a ring that will get the lens off the camera. Manual focus is fine and at that level I usually use auto to get me close and manual to dial it in.

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You should be able to get a manual focus tube for very cheap. Get a set of 3 that you can stack for different ranges of macro.

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You’ll just need a lot of natural light- or you can build a snoot which is what I ended up doing later on.

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I have no clue what mount your camera needs, but you can find something like this for $15- and if it sucks you’re only out $15 eBay extension tubes

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Thoughts?

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Please leave a reply:

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All comments are moderated, so you won’t see it right away. And please remember Kurt Vonnegut's rule: “god damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” You can use Markdown or HTML to format your comments. The allowed tags are <b>, <i>, <em>, <strong>, <a>. To create a new paragraph hit return twice.

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+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fca331a --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/forest.txt @@ -0,0 +1,61 @@ +In the Forest +============= + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Wednesday, 28 March 2018 + +I went for a walk in the woods one afternoon during our time at Camel Lake. It was a mixed slash pine and palmetto forest, probably not more than ten years old in most of places, heavily logged and replanted. After you walk in enough woods it's not hard to tell the re-planted areas, they're a little too orderly, a little too deliberate, not quite as chaotic and wild as an untouched area, of which there are, at this point, very few. Especially around here. + + + +Not that I was complaining, they're still beautiful woods. I went out to try to take some pictures of the bright greenish yellow butterflies we'd been watching drift through camp for the past few days. They look like someone colored them in with a highlighter and then brought them to life. I don't know their name, but they look like green Cabbage Whites, except bright yellow, so I call them Cabbage Yellows. + +Even in the woods though they never stopped long enough to get a good look so I thought I'd go into the woods and see if I could find one to photograph. It turned out though, that they just don't stop. Wherever they are headed they're in a hurry to get there. In the week we were in this place I never saw one land. + + + + + + +At some point on my walk I slipped off my flip flops and walked barefoot down the trail, feeling the soft sand and pine needles of the forest floor. This is something I've been doing for several weeks now. It all started when we were back at Fort Pickens. I was sitting round one day and happened to see some kids running barefoot down the road and one wince and stopped and wiped something off her foot. I smiled because I had a distinct memory of that, those early summer days when you're free, but your feet are still tender from being cooped up all winter in shoes. I got to thinking though about how by the end of the summer you'd run across the same burning hot blacktop without ever feeling the heat or stopping to get the thorns out because your feet had grown so tough you know longer felt those things. I got to thinking about and decided there was really no reason I couldn't make my feet tough like that again, it would just take some practice. And so ever since I've been going barefoot as much as I could. + +That afternoon in the woods my feet were still on the tender side. Twice I had to stop to pick pine needs out of the arch of my foot. And it limited my ability to go crashing through the undergrowth chasing butterflies, but you have to have patience about these things. + +I never did get a picture of my Cabbage Yellows, though I discovered that swallowtails do in fact land. Not very often and only atop the big, thorny, purple flowers of Purple Thistles. The thistles are thorny enough to have been named *Cirsium horridulum*, but the Swallowtails don't seem to mind. They balance atop the thorns and dig into the flower, which they proceed to work over in a very orderly fashion, probing for nectar from one side to the other, millimeter by millimeter, until, I presume, they've either had their fill or exhausted the nectar from that flower, at which point they alight again in their grand looping flight that seems to have a kind of rhythm to it, though any actual pattern to their floating bouncing flutters remains just beyond my brain's ability to recognize it. + + + +What you don't want to do is walk barefoot into a bunch of Cirsium horridulum. Not until the end of summer anyway. And perhaps not even then, there are limits everything you know. + +The interesting thing about being barefoot that I do not remember from my youth is the sense of energy you get from it. It's not exactly a discovery on my part, there are lots of very old names out there for this, martial arts tend to call it qi or chi, yoga calls it prana, druids have the best name in my opinion, the telluric current, one of the two great currents of nwyfre (life energy). Whatever you want to call it, you can feel it. Take off your shoes and put your feet on the dirt or grass or what have you and sit or stand with your eyes closed for about five minutes everyday for a few weeks and pay attention to sensations you notice. It's interesting. + +Unless you come here for stories of travel, in which case this may not be interesting. But I spent a lot of time here at Camel Lake thinking about it. There wasn't a lot else to do. There was a small beach, a few fish in the lake, fish so small I don't even have a hook small enough to get it in their mouths. I had fun trying to convince them to open a little wider though, dangling worm after worm and watching them snatch it away without ever getting on the hook. So if you go to Camel Lake one day and land a fat lazy bass that seems like it must have been hand fed, you're welcome. + + + + +There's nothing to really draw you here, save a desire for peace and quiet. We ended up here partly because our luck with cancellations in the crowded beaches of the Panhandle finally ran out, or at least partly ran out. There were a few campgrounds at various places around St. Andrew Bay, just north a Grayton and Topsail that we could have stayed. And a few more down in the mess of Panama City, but we wanted to come inland for a bit. I've nothing against Panama City. It seems quite fashionable to look down on it these days, the white trash riviera as some call it. I've always rather liked the place, it has a unique charm. I've eaten the hell out of some oysters at Shuck'ums. I have the cup to prove it. Panama City Beach was the first place I came to in the Panhandle. I thought it was great then and I still like it now. + +What I don't like is the new development west of it, all the gated communities and faux mixed development. Places with names like Royal Palms of Laguna Beach Shores or Laguna Beach Estates. Places that are all planned and new and clean and brightly lit and lifeless. A vast oasis devoid of magic. I'm glad everyone else goes there though, that way I can enjoy the redneck beaches full of biting midges, dilapidated bait shacks, abandoned buildings and people who are there to fish and sit and think and enjoy the silence, not serve up iced frappes and air conditioned smiles. + +But that wasn't what drove us inland really. We just wanted something different for a while. A forest rather than a beach. Too much of one thing -- even when that one thing is some of the most perfect beaches in the U.S. -- gets repetitive after a while. Sometime you need a change for no other reason than you just feel like it. + +When I got back from my walk the kids came running up wanting to go for a walk too. So I set out again, this time with them, though only Lilah stayed with me for more than a few minutes. + + + + + + +We ended up across the road, following a trail that seemed to head into the darker, denser, older parts of the forest, but it turned out to be a river bottom, we soon crossed over and came up the other side into another logged area. She pointed out flowers and the curled, curved fern fronds just starting to stretch themselves out for the spring. She wanted to know why the ferns were lighter at the tip and much darker green toward the stalk. + + + +When a cell divides each new cell has only half the number of chloroplasts in it compared to the parent cell. It takes time for the chloroplasts themselves to divide so the cells as the tip of the new frond don't have as many chloroplasts and aren't therefore as dark green as those back at the base. For the record, my explanation to her at the time was not quite that coherent, but she seemed to be satisfied with it anyway. We got distracted shortly after by a pink and red and purple moth that was quite unlike anything I've ever seen before. + +Later that night the sunset turned a deep rich red that seemed to rise right up out of the forest and then faded into a gradient of purple that turned progressively darker shades of blue until it faded up into the blue-black clouds. A cardinal chirped through the woods just beyond the fire, grabbing a last seed or two before settling down the roost for the night. I watched it through the trees, standing next to the fire, hands cupped over it for warmth, wondering if this winter would ever end. At least the cold kept the [Yellow Flies][1] at bay, otherwise this little lake in the woods, tucked somewhere in the Apalachicola river basin, might be miserable. + +The next morning we packed up and headed on south again, tracing the river on down to the sea. + +[1]: /jrnl/2015/05/tates-hell diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..400f2df --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.html @@ -0,0 +1,552 @@ + + + + + Green Sea Days - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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Green Sea Days

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East Bay, Pensacola, Florida, U.S.

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When we planned out this trip back through the Gulf we made reservations at a bunch of places we knew we wanted to go but wouldn’t be able to just show up and find anywhere to camp. In between those places though we left a month to wander around and see what we found. The first stop in our wander was a free campground on East Bay, which is part of Pensacola Bay.

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I’ve seen more than a few full time RVers complaining on the internet that there’s no free camping in Florida or the Gulf Coast in general. I can’t decide if I should correct this ignorance or not. I’m going to take the middle ground and say there’s plenty of free camping all along the Gulf Coast you, but you do have to know where to look. We’ve found great free camping in Texas, Louisiana, Alabama and Florida. It’s harder to find, that’s true, but it’s definitely there. And while I’m on the subject, the whole free camping thing is not, at least for us, really about being free. That is nice, but what free camping almost always means is fewer people and wilder places, which is the main appeal for us.

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The place we stayed on the shore of East Bay is a small campground at the end of a dusty dirt road made of dried Florida red clay. The rains turned it to mud, but not so bad we couldn’t get in and out. Follow the road long enough through the pine flats, bayous and marshes and you’ll find a little campground on the bay. There’s only 12 sites and a crazy online reservation system that ensure most of them will be unoccupied at any given time (despite being “full” if you look online)1. We stayed a total of 10 nights there in two separate trips and never saw the place full. .

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So there is free camping in Florida, plenty of it in fact, you just have to find it. That said, this place is probably somewhat unique. It’s a little slice of wild Florida that doesn’t seem like it’s changed much since the Choctaw were living here a few hundred years ago.

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+ + Window Marker art photographed by luxagraf + +
These days there are ways to do the things we used to get yelled at for doing, without getting yelled at.
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It was nice to get back to something a little wilder. I love the south, and it does have some very wild spots, but they’re fewer and further between than the west. East Bay felt wilder than any place we’d been in a long time, probably since Rutherford Beach.

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We first visited the area a week earlier on our way to Fort Pickens. The day we arrived they were doing a controlled burn in the pine flats (our neighbor told me there’s a pine around here that only germinates with fire, which could be the reason). The air was filled with smoke and ash rained down on us all afternoon which made the place feel even wilder. That night we had a campfire, but real fire was beyond our camp in the woods. For the most part it was a steady red glow through the trees, but occasionally a dead palm would suddenly bursting into flame with a great crashing roar.

+

When we came back there were no nearby fires. The first couple days we were there it rained off and on most of the day. The cloud cover never broke. Then one afternoon the sun finally came out and the whole campground turned out. I heard the squeak of Vanagon doors and the zipper of tents being thrown open and pretty soon folding chairs were pulled out to the shoreline, shirts came off and we all sort of sat in silence and enjoyed the sunshine. We do this sort of thing all the time — just sit and do nothing — so I think nothing of it until we get to a campground where people are always off seeing the sights, fishing, doing stuff and all the sudden I feel conspicuous in my doing nothingness. I knew I had found my people when I noticed that everyone here was just sitting, doing nothing, staring out at the sea. There was something about the place that seemed to inspire you to just sit and think. Perhaps it was the droop of the Spanish Moss, or the glaring Florida sun, or the dead oaks along the shore, limbs reaching out like gnarled fingers clawing at the sky. Whatever the case, it was an excellent place to simply sit and feel the warmth of the sun. Or have a water fight.

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You had to snatch that sun though. The rain was off and on all week. Mornings started off looking like rain, but by 10 it’d be sunny, which would last until around 2PM, at which point clouds would roll in, the wind would kick up and it would feel like a squall was coming, but then nothing ever made it all the way across the bay and by sundown it was clear enough to watch the sunset.

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A couple of mornings a strange warm fog covered the bay, just before dawn the world looked flat and blurred, sea and sky become one and suffused with a blue glow.

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The gloom burned off quickly once the sun was up and the last few days we were there the weather was perfect, even if the fish weren’t biting.

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    While we were there the online system was changed a bit and now you’re supposed to call when you arrive or you forfeit your reservations and the site is available to walk ups. This seemed to be only about half implemented and unevenly enforced, but they’re trying anyway. 

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2 Comments

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+ classical_liberal + April 01, 2018 at 3:15 a.m. +
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Someday your kids, probably in a couple of decades once they realize how different their childhood was from others, are going to sincerely thank you for these experiences.

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Free campsites.net has clued me into a few places I wouldn’t have thought to look, but appears very weak overall (in that is misses a ass-ton of good possibilities I’ve found accidently). How do you guys find the good freebies?

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+ Scott + April 02, 2018 at 11:32 a.m. +
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@classic_liberal-

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I sent you an email with a more detailed answer, but here’s the short version:

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Freecampsites.net is okay, but doesn’t seem to get much use anymore +(info is often very out of date). I also use wikicamp a good bit, but +it’s phone-only for some reason, which irritates me.

+

https://www.usa.wikicamps.co/

+

Still, it was great out west, less so lately.

+

A good bit of our research is just looking for green spots on the map and using DuckDuckGo to search for “free camping”.

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Honestly though, our best finds have been happy accidents and blind luck (one of my top five favorite spots we found because we didn’t feel like driving through a storm and just turned off the main road to look around).

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Thoughts?

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+ + +
+ +
+ + + + +
+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c774f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/green-sea-days.txt @@ -0,0 +1,52 @@ +Green Sea Days +============== + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Wednesday, 14 March 2018 + +When we planned out this trip back through the Gulf we made reservations at a bunch of places we knew we wanted to go but wouldn't be able to just show up and find anywhere to camp. In between those places though we left a month to wander around and see what we found. The first stop in our wander was a free campground on East Bay, which is part of Pensacola Bay. + + + +I've seen more than a few full time RVers complaining on the internet that there's no free camping in Florida or the Gulf Coast in general. I can't decide if I should correct this ignorance or not. I'm going to take the middle ground and say there's plenty of free camping all along the Gulf Coast you, but you do have to know where to look. We've found great free camping in Texas, Louisiana, Alabama and Florida. It's harder to find, that's true, but it's definitely there. And while I'm on the subject, the whole free camping thing is not, at least for us, really about being free. That is nice, but what free camping almost always means is fewer people and wilder places, which is the main appeal for us. + + + + + + +The place we stayed on the shore of East Bay is a small campground at the end of a dusty dirt road made of dried Florida red clay. The rains turned it to mud, but not so bad we couldn't get in and out. Follow the road long enough through the pine flats, bayous and marshes and you'll find a little campground on the bay. There's only 12 sites and a crazy online reservation system that ensure most of them will be unoccupied at any given time (despite being "full" if you look online)[^1]. We stayed a total of 10 nights there in two separate trips and never saw the place full. . + +So there is free camping in Florida, plenty of it in fact, you just have to find it. That said, this place is probably somewhat unique. It's a little slice of wild Florida that doesn't seem like it's changed much since the Choctaw were living here a few hundred years ago. + + + + + +It was nice to get back to something a little wilder. I love the south, and it does have some very wild spots, but they're fewer and further between than the west. East Bay felt wilder than any place we'd been in a long time, probably since Rutherford Beach. + +We first visited the area a week earlier on our way to Fort Pickens. The day we arrived they were doing a controlled burn in the pine flats (our neighbor told me there's a pine around here that only germinates with fire, which could be the reason). The air was filled with smoke and ash rained down on us all afternoon which made the place feel even wilder. That night we had a campfire, but real fire was beyond our camp in the woods. For the most part it was a steady red glow through the trees, but occasionally a dead palm would suddenly bursting into flame with a great crashing roar. + +When we came back there were no nearby fires. The first couple days we were there it rained off and on most of the day. The cloud cover never broke. Then one afternoon the sun finally came out and the whole campground turned out. I heard the squeak of Vanagon doors and the zipper of tents being thrown open and pretty soon folding chairs were pulled out to the shoreline, shirts came off and we all sort of sat in silence and enjoyed the sunshine. We do this sort of thing all the time -- just sit and do nothing -- so I think nothing of it until we get to a campground where people are always off seeing the sights, fishing, doing stuff and all the sudden I feel conspicuous in my doing nothingness. I knew I had found my people when I noticed that everyone here was just sitting, doing nothing, staring out at the sea. There was something about the place that seemed to inspire you to just sit and think. Perhaps it was the droop of the Spanish Moss, or the glaring Florida sun, or the dead oaks along the shore, limbs reaching out like gnarled fingers clawing at the sky. Whatever the case, it was an excellent place to simply sit and feel the warmth of the sun. Or have a water fight. + + + + + + + + +You had to snatch that sun though. The rain was off and on all week. Mornings started off looking like rain, but by 10 it'd be sunny, which would last until around 2PM, at which point clouds would roll in, the wind would kick up and it would feel like a squall was coming, but then nothing ever made it all the way across the bay and by sundown it was clear enough to watch the sunset. + +A couple of mornings a strange warm fog covered the bay, just before dawn the world looked flat and blurred, sea and sky become one and suffused with a blue glow. + + + + +The gloom burned off quickly once the sun was up and the last few days we were there the weather was perfect, even if the fish weren't biting. + + + + +[^1]: While we were there the online system was changed a bit and now you're supposed to call when you arrive or you forfeit your reservations and the site is available to walk ups. This seemed to be only about half implemented and unevenly enforced, but they're trying anyway. diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eadd104 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.html @@ -0,0 +1,467 @@ + + + + + Island In The Sun - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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+
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+
+ + + +
+
+
+

Island in the Sun

+ +
+
+

Gulf Islands National Seashore, Florida, U.S.

+ – Map +
+ + +
+
+
+

When we were sitting in the bus, sick, in Victorville, where the temperatures were in the twenties at night, nothing sounded quite so good to us as the perfect, sugary, white sand beaches of Gulf Islands National Seashore.

+ + +

The danger with reminiscing from a long way away is you tend to forget the negative things, but in this case the only downside is the campground, which is little more than a parking lot. I can live with that when the beach looks like this.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

This time around there were no Blue Angels flying overhead, but we did make a trip across the bay one day to check out the naval aviation museum.

+ + + + +
+ + Navy recruitment sign, 1920s photographed by luxagraf + +
Navy recruitment sign, 1920s
+
+ +

The kids were into the various Blue Angel planes, but otherwise seemed bored with the place. I thought it was moderately interesting until Corrinne pointed out that all the planes had been sanitized, not a single pin-up, or any nose art at all to be found in the whole place.

+

I asked one of the docents about it and he told me it was done to make the place more family-friendly. Because building a monument to the various ways to kill people from the air is totally family-friendly, but anything hinting at sex, the way, if you recall, you actually get families, is not1. One of the things I hope foreign guidebooks to our strange land prepare visitors for is that sometimes American logic will make your head explode.

+

We beat a haste retreat back across the bay to the beach.

+

I took a break from the brake problem, but of course that didn’t mean there was nothing to do on the bus. The awning ratchet broke one afternoon, which I mention mostly because in my quest to find a replacement part I had to visit the worst store ever: Camping World. What a racket. If you can, avoid it. I did manage to get the awning fixed though. Just in time for the wind and rain.

+

The last day we were on the island it suddenly turned quite cold and rained most of the day, but we still managed to get some time in the sand.

+ + + + + + +
+ + Pensacola beach sign, FL photographed by luxagraf + +
Still the best sign in Florida.
+
+ +
+
+
    +
  1. +

    Officially the Navy banned nose art in 1944, which wasn’t widely enforced until after the war, but better than half of the planes in the building were pre-1944. 

    +
  2. +
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Thoughts?

+

Please leave a reply:

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+ + + +
+ + +
+ + + +
+ + +
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+

All comments are moderated, so you won’t see it right away. And please remember Kurt Vonnegut's rule: “god damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” You can use Markdown or HTML to format your comments. The allowed tags are <b>, <i>, <em>, <strong>, <a>. To create a new paragraph hit return twice.

+ + +
+ +
+ + + + +
+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b3d4d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/island-sun.txt @@ -0,0 +1,44 @@ +Island in the Sun +================= + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Wednesday, 07 March 2018 + +When we were sitting in the bus, sick, in Victorville, where the temperatures were in the twenties at night, nothing sounded quite so good to us as the perfect, sugary, white sand beaches of Gulf Islands National Seashore. + + + +The danger with reminiscing from a long way away is you tend to forget the negative things, but in this case the only downside is the campground, which is little more than a parking lot. I can live with that when the beach looks like this. + + + + + + + + + +This time around there were no Blue Angels flying overhead, but we did make a trip across the bay one day to check out the naval aviation museum. + + + + + +The kids were into the various Blue Angel planes, but otherwise seemed bored with the place. I thought it was moderately interesting until Corrinne pointed out that all the planes had been sanitized, not a single pin-up, or any nose art at all to be found in the whole place. + +I asked one of the docents about it and he told me it was done to make the place more family-friendly. Because building a monument to the various ways to kill people from the air is totally family-friendly, but anything hinting at sex, the way, if you recall, you actually get families, is not[^1]. One of the things I hope foreign guidebooks to our strange land prepare visitors for is that sometimes American logic will make your head explode. + +We beat a haste retreat back across the bay to the beach. + +I took a break from the brake problem, but of course that didn't mean there was nothing to do on the bus. The awning ratchet broke one afternoon, which I mention mostly because in my quest to find a replacement part I had to visit the worst store ever: Camping World. What a racket. If you can, avoid it. I did manage to get the awning fixed though. Just in time for the wind and rain. + +The last day we were on the island it suddenly turned quite cold and rained most of the day, but we still managed to get some time in the sand. + + + + + + + +[^1]: Officially the Navy banned nose art in 1944, which wasn't widely enforced until after the war, but better than half of the planes in the building were pre-1944. diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c727de --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.html @@ -0,0 +1,596 @@ + + + + + Old School - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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+ + +
+
+ + + +
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+

Old School

+ +
+
+

Grayton State Park, Florida, U.S.

+ – Map +
+ + +
+
+
+

There are a handful of places on the planet where the earth has created what are known as coastal dune lakes, fresh water lakes located within two miles of the ocean. They occur in Australia, Madagascar, New Zealand, South Carolina and here in Florida, more specifically, in Walton County. There were a handful of dune lakes at Topsail and a couple more at our next destination, Grayton State Park.

+ + +

These lakes are more than 10,000 years old, and play an important role in making this coastline look the way it looks. Unlike most dunes, these areas have pretty good soil. When it rains hard the lakes fill and the water escapes through what’s known as an outfall, which is where the lake overwhelms the berm that separates it from the sea. When that happens fresh water floods out over the dunes, delivering nutrients, along with plants and animals that would otherwise not be on dunes.

+

The lakes are also individually disinct, with varying levels of salinity and different specifies of life in each one. Probably the most popular of the lakes, from what I could tell, is here in Grayton, known as Western Lake.

+ + +

We were again, somehow, able to get in on some cancellations and spent four days wandering the lakeside and seashore of Grayton State Park. This time there was no RV Park, no pool and the people were mostly like us. One morning some kids from another site wandered over and started playing with our kids. Eventually the parents came by to check on their children and we got to talking. The mom told me about how she let her son, who was seven, wander wherever he wanted. He’d walked to the beach (about a mile) the day before.

+

I was impressed because I often feel like we’re the only people who let our kids do that sort of thing. But then the woman expressed my one great fear, that some meddling adult would end up calling the cops or otherwise harrassing our kids about doing their own thing. It’s never actually happened, but I’m constantly worried about it given the average American’s inability to mind their own damn business. Neither of us had any solution, but it was at least comforting to know that other parents have the same concerns.

+

Eventually the other family had to go (our kids have an unfortunate knack for making friends with kids that are leaving that day).

+

Not ten minutes later some woman came up to Corrinne talking about some kids she had seen “just walking down by the water” and how “someone should be watching them.” Luckily for that woman she talked to Corrinne who shrugged and politely turned away. I’m not nearly as polite.

+

Another blog I read regularly writes quite a bit about this meddling phenomena in other contexts and has suggested reviving the Anti-Poke-Nose society in response to people who can’t seem to stop from poking their noses in other people’s business. I’d love join. And seriously world, if no one’s bleeding, just stay the hell out of my kids’ business.

+

Free ranging children wasn’t the only old school thing we did at Grayton. One day we even managed to go super old school and spend all day in the sun, like I did growing up, a good six hours of sunshine, back when we weren’t scared of the sun. We still aren’t.

+ + +

There were plenty of sandcastles built, water fights had, and games of freeze tag played. And yes, we all got a little bit of a sunburn, but I’m pretty sure we’ll live. And that night, everyone, even me, was asleep before the sky had even gone dark.

+ + + + + + + + + + +
+ + stingrays, grayton beach state park, florida photographed by luxagraf + +
If you look closely you can see a couple of the stingrays that cruised up and down the beach all day long.
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+ + + + + + + + + +

8 Comments

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+ DREW ELDRIDGE + April 09, 2018 at 3:04 p.m. +
+ +
+ +

Title your book “Free Ranging Children”

+

Love it.

+ +
+
+ +
+ +
+ Scott + April 09, 2018 at 3:40 p.m. +
+ +
+ +

@Drew-

+

I like that, but it already has a title I like a little bit more.

+ +
+
+ +
+ +
+ Rick McQuiston + April 14, 2018 at 1:56 p.m. +
+ +
+ +

I am a resident on Alligator Lake, suburb of Grayton State park. Here is a reply to Athenian Arva Weinstein who sent me the link to Luxagraf:

+

Interesting is an understatement. Particularly Old School, right here at home.

+

What a guy! Scott Gilbertson is very much the Renaissance man — photographer, bird watcher, wood-working craftsman, courageous nomad who would travel deserts and mountains in an antique motor home, a father who is not raising PC snowflake snotnoses (free range children). Not to mention, having a fine way with words.

+

I’ve read much of Luxagraf and intend to read more. Their travels have taken them to many places near and dear to us.

+

Arva, I’ll bet you have many stories to tell about this guy and his family.

+

Thanks, bigtime. I will share with many, beginning with friends here on the Emerald Coast, no longer the pristine Redneck Riviera you recall.

+ +
+
+ +
+ +
+ Scott + April 18, 2018 at 10:23 a.m. +
+ +
+ +

@Rick-

+

Thanks, that’s a nice thing to say. I’m glad you like the site and any friend of Arva’s in a friend of ours.

+ +
+
+ +
+ +
+ Gwen + August 10, 2018 at 3:14 p.m. +
+ +
+ +

We just spent a few days in Panama City Beach. We’d never been to that part of Florida before and wouldn’t stay in Panama City again. I was looking back and reading your posts from that area of Florida. On our last day we drove by Grayton State Park. Looks like a nice area. That’s where we would go if we came back again. We did love seeing the sea life in the Gulf. Your picture here of the stingrays turned out much better than the one I took last week!

+ +
+
+ +
+ +
+ Scott + August 10, 2018 at 5:25 p.m. +
+ +
+ +

Gwen-

+

Panama City Beach is the first place I ever went down here, and I went for spring break no less. I think everyone should do it at least once, but yes there are much nicer places. Grayton is nice, but if you come back go to St. George Island over by Apalachicola. That’s the best place on the entire Gulf side of Florida in my experience.

+ +
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+ Gwen + August 11, 2018 at 6:43 a.m. +
+ +
+ +

Why do you like St. George the best? How does it compare to Grayton area?

+ +
+
+ +
+ +
+ Scott + August 11, 2018 at 3:00 p.m. +
+ +
+ +

Gwen-

+

I like it because it’s less developed. St George has very few hotels, half the island is a state park, and there’s just not much out there. I also really like Apalachicola, which is just across the bay.

+

The whole coastline down there is pretty similar though, there’s not a huge difference between Grayton and anywhere else within 50 miles east and west, at least in terms of the beaches. It’s all about the towns around them, I happen to like Apalachicola a lot more than the rest. There’s also St. Joseph Peninsula, which is just west of Apalachicola and really nice as well.

+ +
+
+ +
+ + +
+ +
+

Thoughts?

+

Please leave a reply:

+
+
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
+ + +
+ + + +
+ + +
+ + + +
+ + +
+ + + +
+ +
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+ + + +
+ + +
+ + +
+ + +
+
+

All comments are moderated, so you won’t see it right away. And please remember Kurt Vonnegut's rule: “god damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” You can use Markdown or HTML to format your comments. The allowed tags are <b>, <i>, <em>, <strong>, <a>. To create a new paragraph hit return twice.

+ + +
+ +
+ + + + +
+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4286cd9 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/old-school.txt @@ -0,0 +1,42 @@ +Old School +========== + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Saturday, 24 March 2018 + +There are a handful of places on the planet where the earth has created what are known as coastal dune lakes, fresh water lakes located within two miles of the ocean. They occur in Australia, Madagascar, New Zealand, South Carolina and here in Florida, more specifically, in Walton County. There were a handful of dune lakes at [Topsail][1] and a couple more at our next destination, Grayton State Park. + + + +These lakes are more than 10,000 years old, and play an important role in making this coastline look the way it looks. Unlike most dunes, these areas have pretty good soil. When it rains hard the lakes fill and the water escapes through what's known as an outfall, which is where the lake overwhelms the berm that separates it from the sea. When that happens fresh water floods out over the dunes, delivering nutrients, along with plants and animals that would otherwise not be on dunes. + +The lakes are also individually disinct, with varying levels of salinity and different specifies of life in each one. Probably the most popular of the lakes, from what I could tell, is here in Grayton, known as Western Lake. + + + +We were again, somehow, able to get in on some cancellations and spent four days wandering the lakeside and seashore of Grayton State Park. This time there was no RV Park, no pool and the people were mostly like us. One morning some kids from another site wandered over and started playing with our kids. Eventually the parents came by to check on their children and we got to talking. The mom told me about how she let her son, who was seven, wander wherever he wanted. He'd walked to the beach (about a mile) the day before. + +I was impressed because I often feel like we're the only people who let our kids do that sort of thing. But then the woman expressed my one great fear, that some meddling adult would end up calling the cops or otherwise harrassing our kids about doing their own thing. It's never actually happened, but I'm constantly worried about it given the average American's inability to mind their own damn business. Neither of us had any solution, but it was at least comforting to know that other parents have the same concerns. + +Eventually the other family had to go (our kids have an unfortunate knack for making friends with kids that are leaving that day). + +Not ten minutes later some woman came up to Corrinne talking about some kids she had seen "just walking down by the water" and how "someone should be watching them." Luckily for that woman she talked to Corrinne who shrugged and politely turned away. I'm not nearly as polite. + +Another blog I read regularly writes quite a bit about this meddling phenomena in other contexts and has suggested reviving the [Anti-Poke-Nose society][2] in response to people who can't seem to stop from poking their noses in other people's business. I'd love join. And seriously world, if no one's bleeding, just stay the hell out of my kids' business. + +Free ranging children wasn't the only old school thing we did at Grayton. One day we even managed to go super old school and spend all day in the sun, like I did growing up, a good six hours of sunshine, back when we weren't scared of the sun. We still aren't. + + + +There were plenty of sandcastles built, water fights had, and games of freeze tag played. And yes, we all got a little bit of a sunburn, but I'm pretty sure we'll live. And that night, everyone, even me, was asleep before the sky had even gone dark. + + + + + + + + +[1]: /jrnl/2018/03/stone-crabs +[2]: https://www.flickr.com/photos/aemays/5547187616/ diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6511273 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.html @@ -0,0 +1,546 @@ + + + + + Stone Crabs - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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+

Stone Crabs

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+

Topsail State Park, Florida, U.S.

+ – Map +
+ + +
+
+
+

After enjoying such a nice slice of wilderness, we were bound to be a little disappointed returning to the crowds.

+

As we headed back to the coastline we found ourselves among two peculiar breeds of American tourist, spring break partygoers in rented convertibles and snow birds in massive RVs.

+

To provide maximum contrast between wild and crowded, we headed first to a place called Topsail State Park and RV Resort. And yes, it really was an RV Resort — full hookups, pool, the whole bit, but inside a state park. It was the strangest campground we’ve been in and not really our scene you could say. When my wife asked if there was a trail to the beach the woman at the counter looked at her like she was crazy and apparently the first person here to contemplate walking a whole mile. There was naturally a road, complete with shuttle, that could take you to beach.

+

The minute Corrinne said there was a pool I knew I’d never see the beach anyway. For the kids, at this point, white sand beaches happen pretty much all the time, but pools? Pools are exotic and enticing, even when they’re the coldest pool any of us had ever set foot in.

+ + + + +
+ + Pool, Topsail State Beach, Florida photographed by luxagraf + +
It was cold, take-your-breath-away cold.
+
+ +

Topsail certainly isn’t a destination for Spring Breakers, though we drove through plenty of that crowd on our way, especially in Destin. Topsail drew in the snow birds. I lost count of midwestern license plates, Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, Minnesota, and South Dakota, but those are fulltime people1. And there were some truly massive rigs, with square footage well over the average Parisian apartment. I’ve nothing against big rigs really, it seems very limiting to me, but hey, to each their own, still, it was odd to be around such mammoth vehicles.

+

I’m not really sure how we ended up with a spot here in the first place. Corrinne had been refreshing the reservation page the whole time we were at East Bay and finally found something, a cancellation we were able to snatch up for a couple of days.

+

The pool entertained the kids, and we did make it out the beach one afternoon. We walked. It was a nice beach, though pretty crowded with people and high-rise hotels just down the shore in either direction. But if you stared out at the sea and squinted a bit, it looked more or less like Gulf Islands National Seashore.

+ + + + + + + + + + +

The influx of Northerners and Midwesterns brought a return of what I call the stone-faced walk-by, which I thought we’d left behind in California.

+

Imagine you’re walking down a trail, or a path, a nice sun-bleached wood plank boardwalk over some dunes say, and someone else is approaching you. Now nearly everywhere I’ve been on this planet, in dozens of cultures, with dozens of language barriers, in nearly every case, everyone at least smiles and maybe attempts to exchange pleasantries, even if the latter are not maybe completely understood.

+

In parts of America though there’s another approach: the stone-faced walk-by.

+

In this scenario you not only don’t smile or exchange pleasantries. Instead you don’t acknowledge the other person at all. You completely avoid making eye contact because you’re very concerned about something over… there, anywhere really, except the direction of the approaching person. You find this spot to stare at, like it’s the guiding light that will get you through, past the terror of interacting with other people, without actually interacting, like a child who closes her eyes and momentarily pretends that nothing around her exists. And then you slide on by the other person without acknowledging their existence in any way.

+

It’s fascinating to watch, bizarre and a little disconcerting to experience. It helps to narrate the whole thing in your head using the voice of David Attenborough. Sometimes I swear you can almost hear the approaching person’s subvocalization: please don’t talk to please don’t talk to me please don’t talk to me.

+

It’s strange, very strange. But then maybe it’s the place, not the people. I didn’t notice it the time, but I ended up with pictures of the kids looking hilariously (and unintentionally) angsty while playing on the beach.

+ + + + +

Different places bring out different things in you. I have a post about that, but that’s for another day. For now I’ll just say that Topsail was an oddball place; we didn’t dislike it exactly, but I think we were all ready to move on when our three nights were up.

+
+ + Alban Eilir eggs, Topsail State Beach, Florida photographed by luxagraf + +
Equinox eggs
+
+ +
+
+
    +
  1. +

    A lot of full time people make South Dakota their state of residence. Just as Delaware attracts corporations with tax breaks and easy incorporation processes, South Dakota has (purposefully or not, I’m not sure) made it easy to be a resident, and even get mail, without needing to actually be in the state more than once every few years. So when you see an RV with South Dakota plates, chances are, that’s a full timer. 

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4 Comments

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+ Lou + April 02, 2018 at 1:29 p.m. +
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+ +

I have missed seeing y’all’s cute camper when I drive down Holman, but really enjoyed reading about your adventures. If you have a slideshow party (I guess it’d be more of a PowerPoint party?) when you get back, please invite me :) ~Lou

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+ classical_liberal + April 04, 2018 at 8:45 a.m. +
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I’ve spent some time is South Dakota. In the West around Rapid City it’s dominated with Libertarian types. Preppers, tattooed bikers, the modern hippy. On the East near Sioux Falls are the more socially “proper” Red Staters. In between you have Indian Reservations and ranchers. None of these folks like government being in their business, so it makes for a very deregulated state. Nice for RVer’s… could also be a good state of “residence” (as defined by SD law in a very deregulated manner) for travel nurses who like a place which allows for a multi-state RN license without continuing education requirements and no income taxes. If one were so inclined :)

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+ Scott + April 04, 2018 at 9:51 a.m. +
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@lou-

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We’ll be in Athens next month, we’d love to meet up with you at some point. We thought about having some sort of party, I don’t know about a slideshow :-), but a party at least.

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So far though we haven’t gone beyond just thinking, oh, hey, that’d be good idea. But if we do get our act together I’ll let you know.

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+ Scott + April 04, 2018 at 9:53 a.m. +
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@classic_liberal-

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As much as I will be sorry to no longer officially be a Georgian, it just doesn’t make financial sense for us to have residency anywhere but South Dakota. We’ll probably change it this summer, we’re headed that way anyway.

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Thoughts?

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+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8398f36 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2018/03/stone-crabs.txt @@ -0,0 +1,53 @@ +Stone Crabs +=========== + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Tuesday, 20 March 2018 + +After enjoying such a [nice slice of wilderness][1], we were bound to be a little disappointed returning to the crowds. + +As we headed back to the coastline we found ourselves among two peculiar breeds of American tourist, spring break partygoers in rented convertibles and snow birds in massive RVs. + +To provide maximum contrast between wild and crowded, we headed first to a place called Topsail State Park and RV Resort. And yes, it really was an RV Resort -- full hookups, pool, the whole bit, but inside a state park. It was the strangest campground we've been in and not really our scene you could say. When my wife asked if there was a trail to the beach the woman at the counter looked at her like she was crazy and apparently the first person here to contemplate walking a whole mile. There was naturally a road, complete with shuttle, that could take you to beach. + +The minute Corrinne said there was a pool I knew I'd never see the beach anyway. For the kids, at this point, white sand beaches happen pretty much all the time, but pools? Pools are exotic and enticing, even when they're the coldest pool any of us had ever set foot in. + + + + + +Topsail certainly isn't a destination for Spring Breakers, though we drove through plenty of that crowd on our way, especially in Destin. Topsail drew in the snow birds. I lost count of midwestern license plates, Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, Minnesota, and South Dakota, but those are fulltime people[^1]. And there were some truly massive rigs, with square footage well over the average Parisian apartment. I've nothing against big rigs really, it seems very limiting to me, but hey, to each their own, still, it was odd to be around such mammoth vehicles. + +I'm not really sure how we ended up with a spot here in the first place. Corrinne had been refreshing the reservation page the whole time we were at East Bay and finally found something, a cancellation we were able to snatch up for a couple of days. + +The pool entertained the kids, and we did make it out the beach one afternoon. We walked. It was a nice beach, though pretty crowded with people and high-rise hotels just down the shore in either direction. But if you stared out at the sea and squinted a bit, it looked more or less like Gulf Islands National Seashore. + + + + + + + + +The influx of Northerners and Midwesterns brought a return of what I call the stone-faced walk-by, which I thought we'd left behind in California. + +Imagine you're walking down a trail, or a path, a nice sun-bleached wood plank boardwalk over some dunes say, and someone else is approaching you. Now nearly everywhere I've been on this planet, in dozens of cultures, with dozens of language barriers, in nearly every case, everyone at least smiles and maybe attempts to exchange pleasantries, even if the latter are not maybe completely understood. + +In parts of America though there's another approach: the stone-faced walk-by. + +In this scenario you not only don't smile or exchange pleasantries. Instead you don't acknowledge the other person at all. You completely avoid making eye contact because you're very concerned about something over... there, anywhere really, except the direction of the approaching person. You find this spot to stare at, like it's the guiding light that will get you through, past the terror of interacting with other people, without actually interacting, like a child who closes her eyes and momentarily pretends that nothing around her exists. And then you slide on by the other person without acknowledging their existence in any way. + +It's fascinating to watch, bizarre and a little disconcerting to experience. It helps to narrate the whole thing in your head using the voice of David Attenborough. Sometimes I swear you can almost hear the approaching person's subvocalization: please don't talk to please don't talk to me please don't talk to me. + +It's strange, very strange. But then maybe it's the place, not the people. I didn't notice it the time, but I ended up with pictures of the kids looking hilariously (and unintentionally) angsty while playing on the beach. + + + + +Different places bring out different things in you. I have a post about that, but that's for another day. For now I'll just say that Topsail was an oddball place; we didn't dislike it exactly, but I think we were all ready to move on when our three nights were up. + + + +[1]: /jrnl/2018/03/green-sea-days +[^1]: A lot of full time people make South Dakota their state of residence. Just as Delaware attracts corporations with tax breaks and easy incorporation processes, South Dakota has (purposefully or not, I'm not sure) made it easy to be a resident, and even get mail, without needing to actually be in the state more than once every few years. So when you see an RV with South Dakota plates, chances are, that's a full timer. -- cgit v1.2.3-70-g09d2