It is finished

We hit the road early Thursday morning, driving from Florida to Missouri on the first day. We had trouble finding a motel room because they were all occupied by utility workers who were repairing damage from the ice storm we narrowly avoided on our way south two weeks earlier.

The next day we drove all the way to the farm in Marshalltown, where we were greeted by a driving snowstorm.

It was lovely the next morning but without the balmy temperatures we'd grown accustomed to.

Now we are back in Minneapolis.

Black birds in the rigging of an Apalachicola shrimp boat

We spotted them plucking morsels from the nets. The sign on the boat said No Insurance, enter at your own risk.

Patriotic spectacle outside the Piggly Wiggly in Port St. Joe

U.S. Highway 98, on the way to Port St. Joe

Sea trout

Jen and I rented a canoe at Cape San Blas and spent the afternoon paddling around St. Joseph's Bay. I caught this sea trout in about two feet of water on a shallow running Rapala.

Harassing the fishes of the Gulf of Mexico

In the last two days, I caught a mess of these fish--whiting--in front of the Barnacle.

It is a pretty simple thing, kind of like going after channel cats on the Mississippi. You just throw out a a hunk of shrimp on a three way rig (with a two ounce weight) and sit back until the rod tip moves.

I also discovered that whiting are delicious, with sweet and mild fillets. I attribute this to the fact that shrimp are the whiting's favorite food. Of course, by that logic, my flesh should be tasty as well, as I am also a glutton for shrimp.

Eastpoint

On the way back from the forest, we poked around in Eastpoint, an oyster town across the bay from the city of Apalachicola. It was a busted out place, with a lot of hurricane damage and a store that specialized in the sale of furniture from foreclosed homes. Needless to say, I liked it.

That's an oyster boat below and behind it smoke from a big controlled burn that got a little out of control.

The Barnacle

Our temporary abode on the Forgotten Coast.

Apalachicola National Forest

We hit the road for a day trip in the Apalachicola National Forest. As you can see, parts were piney enough that they could pass for northern Minnesota if you didn't look closely. The mangrove swamps were impressive, albeit not Minnesotan.

Sadly, our quest to find a gator in the backwaters was unsuccessful.

Indian Pass campground general store

It's located just down the road from the Barnacle, the little house on stilts that we have rented.

Just the two of us

We are alien conquistadors, hiking at the wilderness preserve at the end of St. Joseph's Peninsula.

On St Joseph's Peninsula the sand is like snow

A spectacular and unspoiled stretch of Florida coastline.

Birds are most abundant here on the Forgotten Coast

Apalachicola

An excellent relic of old Florida, where the people make their living from the sea and the driveways are paved with oyster shells. (Also, where the use of quotation marks is much favored).

At last, we settle down at Indian Pass

As you can see, the beach here is lovely, with sand as soft and fine as talcum powder.

Fort Walton Beach was appalling but we still managed to enjoy ourselves

We took the long, slow route from Natchez to the Florida panhandle, virtually all of it on U.S. Highway 98. The drive through Mississippi and Alabama was engaging but by the time we hit the Florida border, things got ugly in a hurry.

We got lost in a odious tourist town called Fort Walton Beach, which is home to every chain restaurant known to the American consumer.

After driving in circles through the dark for about an hour, we found a decent and inexpensive motel and very tasty fish sandwiches at the Hightide Restaurant and Oyster bar, a place whose excellent ambiance nearly atoned for Fort Walton Beach's defects.

Jen, bouyed by the sandwich, straddled a shark as we walked back to the motel.

Alabama

Jen always likes a fruit stand. She picked up some blood oranges and divinity bar in this handsome operation outside Mobile.

Natchez is a city with personality, fine vistas

When it comes to the cities of Mississippi, everyone raves about Oxford. I was more impressed with Natchez, with its mix of grandeur and decay and tremendous views of the Mississippi River.