Arrive Pensacola

We pulled out of Wilmington on a cold morning, knowing we'd be cold for a few more days while a cold front moved on through. The plan was to head to Charleston, SC, then through central GA, staying away from the interstate highways. To say I was disappointed to learn that having dinner in Charleston Saturday night was not an option is an understatement. One of the finest dining cities in the south, and Stuart didn't want to go out. His focus was on getting to Pensacola, and even planning to go out to dinner was straying from his plan! The next night we pulled into Laura Walter State Park, just north of the Okefenokee National Park and just outside of Waycross, GA. We discovered the Laura Walter a couple of years ago, and fell in love with that pretty place. But, it's cold and now it's raining, so we enjoyed the view from our window, at dusk. Monday morning, we had the chance to recieve help from Waycross's Finest, when the emergency trailer brake pulled out during a sharp turn, STOPping us while we blocked two lanes of traffic at a busy intersection! It's raining and cold, but our police hero guided traffic around our blockade while we found the connection and re-engaged our brakes. Our next small adventure appeared in Mariana, FL, just across the line from GA: a construction barricade scraped the side our the trailer when one of us made a very short turn. He will not be named. I'm pleased, however, to report that the warm front has moved in, the sun is shining, and the temperature has improved.

We've set up house-keeping in northern Pensacola, FL, in a small campground. There are about 20 sites here, almost all long-term tenants. One of our neighbors has invited us to the 'hood Christmas party this weekend, where we'll have the chance to meet everyone. Our first afternoon in town, after setting up and setting out the pots of lettuce I brought with us, we found the public library and applied for privileges. There are several supermarkets and a produce stand close by, and the city bus system stops one block away.

 

Kayaks on the roof, our goal is to paddle twice a week. There is a lot of Big Water here, but there is plenty of quiet water, too. Looking at the map, we found a boat ramp north of town. To our delight, the paved road turned into dirt, which got narrower when we found the small hand-painted sign nailed to a fence post directing us to Beck's Fish Camp. Turkey oaks, red cedars, pines and myrtles grew in the sand, and we came to a small encampment that made me hear banjo music in my head. We followed the instructions on more hand-painted signs, depositing $10 for launching our kayaks in Beck's Lake. Not really a lake, but a bayou. Not a human in sight, plenty of wood-peckers in the cypress trees along the creek. The sky is gray, and it's warm. The black water creek twists and turns through the cypress swamp, and we feel as if we're on the Northeast Cape Fear River at home...the only plant missing is wild grapevines! Stuart found a photocopy of an antique map of the bayou, printed in 1947, and we learn there really was a lake here in the late 1800's. The Beck brothers built a sawmill here, damming the Escambia River when northwest Florida began shipping virgin pine lumber all over the world. The dam washed out sometime in the early 1900's. Legend has it that General Andy Jackson may have camped his 15,000 troops right where we launched. We paddled down the bayou to the High Bluffs, and turned back. A pretty paddle on quiet black water.
We drove down some other back roads, looking for more access to the bayous feeding into the Escambia River and its bayous, but found the access totally blocked by big industry such as Exxon and other chemical plants. We'll continue looking...