April 25th

Christopher Patch and I visited Merrit Island, which is a bird watching hot spot. This information proved to be on the money. As we walked up the sandy road we could see to the left the ocean and the shore birds, and to the right was a lagoon bordered by mangroves anchored in black mud. The water was shallow and dark and bordered by snowy egrets and white ibis. We also saw the reddish egret and rosette spoonbill frantically feeding, moving their heads from side to side. We stayed for some hours and each of us bolstered our last trip. On the shore embedded in the eelgrass I found two horseshoe crab carcasses. These were smallish, which is best for my purposes.

We returned to ACA and after a quick taco lunch hastily packed for our mysterious camping trip and to drop Raven off at the airport. This unfortunately meant that we would miss David Lang's presentation at the university in Deland.

Last night before dinner I set up eight pitfall traps with the assistance of Ike, Thea and Juda. We dug holes around cabins one and two and placed the traps filled with alcohol. In a couple of days we will check the traps.

After taking Raven to the little immaculate airport of Jacksonville we headed south on a very traffic packed route 17 until we reached 308 and then headed for the town of Welaka which is near the Bartram site of Mount Royal visited by John and William in 1866 and by William alone later. It is described in Bartram's Travels. We drove through the sleepy little town on the St. John's river with its gas station, bar and Shrimp 'R Us restaurant. We found the campsite at the 2,288-acre forest beyond the equestrian facilities. Here we passed a large family of extremely overweight Americans who had brought their unfortunate horses. When we first drove up to the trail's entrance we spied sand hill cranes, a great egret, a snowy egret, great blue heron and a hawk fighting a snake with its talons! As the light faded we pitched our tent on the sandy ground and gathered pinewood for a fire later. We had some seclusion, but our neighbors were loud and active. So too were the coyote troop who howled loudly.

We had dinner in town at the Shrimps 'R Us restaurant. I had a dish called "shrimp and two sides" and Dana had boiled shrimp. It was great. By the light of the campfire we drained a good bottle of Australian red wine and waited until Christy arrived. She arrived and we pitched our tent and soon retired for a cozy sleep. We returned to the Shrimp 'R Us restaurant where we were treated to delicious, if oddly proportioned breakfasts. I ordered a massive plate of cream-colored biscuits and sausage gravy. It was as impressive for its monotone color as it was for its inhuman scale.

Next we drove to Royal Mount to observe the Indian mount which John and William visited in 1766. Bartram describes the mount in "Travels". We first drove down a dirt road into a well groomed and lovely sited trailer park. We asked an elderly man in blue overalls and a straw hat, thinking he would be a fountain of local lore, however he was utterly ignorant of the mound and his teen grandson in a black tee shirt gave us the proper directions.

We returned our way to the junction where a large sign announced the housing development of Mount Royal Airfield, a golf course looking airfield with two fountains shooting thirty feet high donned the entrance. We charted our course through the suburban grid past homes so perfectly groomed they appeared to be out of a film set. We came to the corner of William Bartram Street and Indian Mound and saw amidst the American dream homes groups of sand hill cranes prowling the perfect lawns. There had to be at least eight of these gorgeous gray birds wandering about. They appeared as out of place as Hollywood zombies.

Behind a low, chain link fence was the sandy mound covered with healthy vegetation. A small, amateur, but ambitious visitors center detailed the social history and archeological significance of the mound. There were hand made drawings and paintings behind cracked Plexiglas under a spacious kiosk. Unlike the large official sign outside the mount site this information correctly made reference to Bartram and an "American" not "British" naturalist. Behind the kiosk was a temporary workers house, which had obviously just been moved onto the location. It was long and thin and empty. It's paint and clapboard spoke its age. I really like the proportions and style of these simple two room buildings. We climbed the mound and wondered how they got the permits to build so close to the mound. They must have done quite a lot of destruction to the archeological site. All around the mound were bluebirds, and we easily saw from the top a dozen sand hill cranes strolling over the yards. We left Mount Royal Airfield development somewhat astonished at the checkerboard nature of the Central Florida landscape and its haphazard organization of tiny towns, parklands, affluent housing developments and trailer parks.

From there we motored west across the vast Ocala National Forest to the site of Silver Springs. We had intended to canoe the aqua waters of the springs and see the crazy monkey troop which inhabits Silver Springs State Park. Sadly, they were out of canoes for the day and we were out of luck. We reserved a canoe for the next day and quickly made plans to visit Payne's Prairie Preserve State Park just south of Gainesville. We had the idea to pass by Cross Creek and visit the home of Florida's most outstanding regional writer, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. The author of "The Yearling" and "Cross Creek" moved to Florida in 1928. Her modest but beautiful home, a modified cracker farmhouse, remain well kept and furnished in the 1930's period. It is an historic state park. The high ceiling and joined wooden structures are simple yet smart. From here we lunched at an elaborate knotty pine with heavy shellac restaurant, called The Yearling, situated right on cross-creek. We enjoyed okra and soft-shell crab sandwiches.

We then continued north to Payne's Prairie Preserve State Park, which consists of a vast basin formed when the underground limestone dissolved and caved in. At times it is a vast shallow lake, at other times a boggy wet prairie and acrid grassland. Bartram wrote a vivid description of the prairie and seemed to enjoy it above all other places he visited. Today the area is a 22,000-acre wilderness preserve comprised of 23 distinct natural communities, which include sizeable populations of alligators, sand hill cranes, bison, wild horses and 271 species of birds. Bartram called the area the "Great Alachua Savannah." We were fortunate enough to get the last and seemingly largest and best campsite in the park. We pitched tents between a couple Christy named "the Wal-Mart lesbians" and an overweight white haired guy who stared at us from his white plastic chair while talking on his cell phone.

We then left for the visitor's center, which closed ten minutes before we arrived. We then walked the Wacahoota trail and climbed a sublime observation tower. From our nest in the trees high amongst the Spanish moss we could peek out across the vast dry prairie. It appeared scorching out there. We walked the dark trail afterward where I saw an ovenbird. After that we walked the boardwalk over lake Wauberg and then the very different Bolen Bluff trail. Here I spied two owls in playful chatter. They did not spy me so I could watch them for quite some time. Then, out of the woods a wild bay stallion tore right through the brush running right at me. As I raised my arms to my side to be certain he saw me, he veered left down the path, passing Dana and Christy two hundred yards ahead. He came to a stop further up the path. Dana and Christy slowly approached him while I took pictures. I dreaded the outcome, but Dana got quite close without ever touching him.

Our car had some problems. The nuts on the wheel hubs had somehow become loose and one was shorn off. We had to stop by an auto parts place and pep boys to get some confirmation that we were not in danger, and that we could fix it later.

When we arrived in Gainesville we arranged to meet my old friend Nitin and Christy's friend John at a hip restaurant, Satchel's Pizza. Here we found a baroquely kitsch decorated restaurant with a gift shop of clever and cheap oddities. I purchased a few alligator things. After some pizza and some catching up we drove back to the Payne's Prairie campsite and slept.

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