Parking: Bungalow Lake Retreat
In Florida state parks, it is nearly impossible to find a camping spot that wasn’t already booked a year earlier, so were were looking at some private parks. They were nearly all crowed with no green-space/trees between sites, so we decided to rent a house for a month instead. The place we found was just outside Carrabelle (walking/biking distance) bordering the State Forest and on a pretty little lake. The house was small, but to us (after living in an RV), it felt enormous.
My mother-in-law visited us at the house, so we could have some nice one-on-one time with her, but unfortunately we had some mishaps that marred her visit.
The first was right when she arrived. We had just put the boat in the water as she was arriving, and when pulling into the driveway, we hit a sand trap in the driveway. The sand was about 18″ deep with a sprinkling of gravel on the top making it look solid, and we sank like a rock. Needless to say, we were pretty upset after the initial attempt to free ourselves just dug deeper. Eventually, we did dig it out, and nothing was hurt, but now I hate loose sand even more. Even just cycling on the sand-covered dirt road from the driveway to the highway was horrible especially in a recumbent.
Since we were going to be at this place for a while, we had the kick-up rudder and the Porta-bote that we ordered shipped to the rental agency. We had taken my mother-in-law out sailing in the ICW when we got a call that the boat had arrived 5 days earlier than excepted, and the agency was just going to leave it outside because they were going home. So much for sailing – we had to rush back, get the RV, and go pick it up.
We also had a problem with the bears. They really liked our garbage and made a mess several times. Even after hauling it up a tree, they still got it, so we had to rig a higher mount with tow straps. They’re cute, but after the fourth or fifth time picking up garbage everywhere, the cuteness wears off.
My mother-in-law was a very good sport about all the mishaps, but I felt pretty terrible for spoiling her vacation with the chaos.
After she left, we settled into a routine. We kept the sailboat in the water at a marina (note: that’s too long to go without hauling the boat out of the salt water and washing it off), and we’d cycle over there, sail in perfect conditions, attempt to fish, and then cycle back. Sometimes we’d stop at a really good country buffet on the way home. It was a pretty idyllic life, but the open road still beckons.