Price Creek at Possum Trot Trail

This meandering creek originates a few miles from my house before emptying into the Alligator Lake near this point. In Alligator Lake Park the stream mostly consists of straight cut dikes, built years ago by the Hill family to levy up part of the lake for farming. When the county purchased the property from the Hills, the dikes were left, but cut through in several areas, allowing once again, the waters to return to the pastures. The dikes, though never intended for recreation, now provide an excellent built up trail system about the lake for hiking and mountain biking. The deeper waters next to the dike system ensure water is always in the lake, which often completely drains due to lack of rainfall.

Friday Night Mike's

This evening Melanie and I broke from the routine and journeyed to Mikes Cafe and Grille located in the Westfield Plaza behind Cracker Barrel. At six pm we were the only partrons, and were seated in a booth in the front part of the restaurant. In years past, this area was a gift shop, but has been renovated into additional seating.
Owned by the Meade Ministries, the decor and construction is top notch, like their church. I was especially attracted to the finely double framed and matted watercolors of flowers on the wall where we sat. It is not necessary to overwhelm with huge works of art when framed in such an elegant manner. The watercolors were not larger than five by five inches.
Melanie and I both ordered the special of the night, beef tips smothered in spinach and pasta. Melanie did not like hers as it had blue cheese. I like everything so I had no complaints. Melanie had a caesar salad, me the house salad with oil and vinegar. Both of us had tea. No dessert, but afterwards, Mike the owner came over and gave us four complimentary cookies to take home, along with a lunch menu, advertising 6.99 early bird specials from 4 to 6 Wednesday through Sunday.
We have always enjoyed eating at Mikes, which does a good lunch business for the area professionals and you guessed, Meade Ministry members. Despite the quirky beliefs of this group, you certainly cannot fault the work ethic, the attention to detail, the elegance and top notch food. Nine thumbs up. One thumb down for Melanie not liking blue cheese, not Mike's fault.

Take me back

Sands of Fun TImes

Landon and Jordon wade into the Suwannee River from the base of the sandbar.

Into the Tannic

Jordon in the Suwannee River at the Sandbar with Landon looking on from the shore.

Lost in Florida

The Sandbar on the upper Suwannee River. Looking downstream.

The Sandbar

Today we take a journey upon the Suwannee River. To arrive at this special location, you first need to make it to the Cone Bridge Landing off US441 past Deep Creek. From Lake City, that is approximately twenty-five miles. Turning onto Cone Bridge Road, you travel about two miles to the steep,paved boat ramp. You can still see the pilons of the metal bridge that once spanned the river at this point, named after the former Governor of Florida, who lived in Lake City, Fred Cone.
The location of this sandbar is about a thirty to forty five minute paddle trip upstream through scenic tupelo and cypress trees that overhang the banks of the tea colored river.
Depending on the level of the river flowing from the Okeefenokee Swamp, this paddle trip can be easy or quite arduous.
The sandbar was created years ago during floods when the river would cut through this peninsula, creating a short cut stream. The Suwannee River Water Management District has made this area into a designated camping spot along the river, due to the high banks and easy access to unload. A set of metal stairs have been put in place at the top of the sandbar to allow an easier climb to the campsite off the river in an open field. What next, an escalator?
For years my family has spent many a happy day swinging and rolling into the river from this spot.
When Landon and Jordon were but toddlers, to the recent trip we made, we always took away fond memories. Before long, Landon shall soon bring his newborn child to this spot and thus the sands of fun times shall continue to entwine.

Judy's Tree

As you ride along what is now called McColsky Avenue in the Osceola National Forest, perhaps you have seen a wooden sign hanging from a crooked slash pine tree off the side of what was once called Still Road. The routed sign says "Judy's Tree".
The location of this site is roughly a half mile north of NFR278 on the right hand side of the road. The person this tree belongs to is the late Judy Hancock, 11/26/1939-6/28/2004 who died of melanoma cancer.
Judy will long be remembered as a tireless champion of the Osceola National Forest and a vast number of other conservation causes during her lifetime, too numerous to document.
If not for the efforts of Judy, this road could well have been the entrance to a vast phosphate mining operation, ruining the beauty of the forest. One of Judy's last projects was establishing a wildlife corridor from the Osceola National Forest to the Okeefenokee Swamp in Georgia.
The sign was placed on this tree by my friend Steve Williams of White Springs and I about two years ago. Steve and Judy spent many hours in meetings and hearing over the years representing things wild through the Sierra, Audubon and Florida Panther Society. Bill Sepko, a friend of mine at work, routed the nice wooden sign for us. During Judy's last days, it was my wife Melanie's honor to be her cancer care nurse. She got to know Judy and was drawn to her sweet, gentle spirit and love of God's wonderful creation. Like Steve, Judy and I were friends from back in the 1980's.
This particular tree was chosen because when Judy was alive, whenever she would be heading into the Osceola in her old beat up pick up truck, Dick Couch and other Foresty workers riding along would point to the crooked tree and say, that is Judy's tree over there.
So next time you are traveling down the old Still Road, on your way into the deeper recesses of the Osceola, slow down and thank Judy Hancock for spending tireless hours protecting the wild and scenic lands we are now able to enjoy.

NFR278

And during the months when we were training for a marathon, we would cross Still Road and continue on, often running as far as US90 for nearly a twenty mile run through the Osceola National Forest.

Miles Away

The intersection of Osceola National Forest Road 278 and Still Road. For many, just another straight limerock road leading to the Rifle Range. For a few, the scene of many days spent training for upcoming road races.
From the late seventies, eighties and into the nineties, some weeks daily we would meet at the Moose Lodge at Watertown Lake and run to this intersection three miles out and return, for a fast six mile training run.
In the day, before the road was limerocked and hardpacked, the road was a two rut sand pit. As we ran along, we could point out who had ran before us by the familiar tracks.
Joe Blewett we recognized by the one track that showed his shuffle and his Sheltie collies tracks beside the Nike waffle pattern.
Russell Plummers tracks were close together and had the Saucony pattern.
Buddy Rhodes were upon the heels of his patent Adidas Marathon trainers.
Forest Wrights Nikes were steady and precise. We knew when a stranger had entered our training grounds and wondered when we would meet.
When we were not decipering the tracks, we were usually pulling impromtu switches from the bushes and using them as makeshift fly swatters. In the summer months, the deer and yellow fly population ensured we ran at a rapid pace through the swampy section through the first mile. The weekends were usually returned to the deer and insects as we journeyed to an area road race to put our training to the test. Years pass and most of the ones who ran the path regularly have retired from running. Some of us have taken up bicycling and continue to ride NFR278 on our Mountain bikes.
Each time I ride this road, the fond memories return. I think of Bob Jones, Mark Philpot, Rick Bringger, Hambone Wilson, Steve Plymale, Roger Sessler, Bob Rossiter,Russell,Joe,Buddy, Forest, the Osceola 5K run held on this path, the hollering like one possessed with the spirit of Halpatter upon finding an arrowhead, of coming upon the man who had just committed suicide along this path. So many memories, many now so many miles away in memory.

A hand for Elia Ann

Lulu Love