Central And North Gulf Coast

It’s time to go – time to move farther north, up the Gulf Coast to the tiny crossroads town of Inglis.   We were dreading dragging the “train” thru the hectic traffic of Brandon’s fast growing city sprawl and then fighting more heavy Tampa traffic on I 75.  So we didn’t!   Backtracking a few miles on St Rt 460 to NB St Rt 39 was a much quieter MUCH more peaceful way to bypass all the stress.  Breakfast was at the Roosters Café in Brooksville and then on to Village Pines Campground, RV Park and Mobile Home Village.  Spacious sites and friendly folks made up for all the sand and the very old bathhouse.  It was a good spot for a couple of nights stay – close enough to Ocala and a good place to get the laundry done!

The Withalacoochee River flows 141 miles north and northwest

from central Florida and then opens up to the Gulf a few miles west of the Inglis intersection of St Rt 40 and St Rt 19/98.  Rt 40 passes thru the also tiny but interesting fishing village of Yankeetown and dead ends at a rough and rugged boat launch.  Yankeetown was settled by a gentleman from Indiana and the local mail deliveryman started calling the settlement “that Yankee town” – and it stuck!  Looking west, out over the salt marshes and islands that border the bay, the sky was various shades of threatening gray.  Looking back inland, the sky was blue and boats were navigating the river with ease!  

Manatee Springs State Park just west of Chiefland was our home

for two more nights of our hop-skip and jump week of moving.  Site 67 was open and easy to back into but was surrounded on 2 sides by fallen trees, and scrub, covered in fresh, green, spring growth.   Each evening a group of beautiful young does strolled thru the back yard, munching as they went.  When they heard the whine or bark from a distant dog, their tiny black noses would raise up and their long white tails would do the same!  When the supposed possible danger passed, down their noses went – back to the business of grazing!

With all the rain this area has had this winter, the springs were full and up over their banks.   The boardwalk that meandered along the

spring run that led to the Suwannee River was now surrounded by dark water and covered with reflections mimicking the tall Cypress trees growing in their depths.  The abundance of rings in shades of yellow, white and brown marked the different levels of where the invasive tannic water had risen to and then receded.   The railings that enclose the actual spring were slung with a mossy mess of slime.  Workers were busy power washing the railings and walkways  -

throwing a mist of water out across the deep turquoise depths.

Newport Campground is good place for an overnight stop that is out and around the curve of the Big Bend of the Gulf of Mexico on the scenic Gulf Coast Highway – Rt 98.   The only thing exciting about this old wayside park was the wild azaleas that were in full bloom!  While there we revisited the St Marks National Wildlife Reserve and finally saw a bear!  We had been “hunting” and searching all winter long and there he was –

stuffed and in the Nature Museum at the Visitor Center!  And he looked so life like too!  

At the end of the 11-mile long road, stood the tall and proud St Marks Lighthouse.  The original one was built in the early 1800’s.  This time the lighthouse was open and we paid our $2 each and stepped inside.  Outside, several uniformed re-enactors were learning marching maneuvers.

Following the scenic Gulf Road we quickly passed thru the pretty little town of Carrabelle and Apalachicola the touristy fishing town.  Apprehension grew as we drove farther west and approached the destroyed town of Mexico Beach where Hurricane Michael ravaged the coastline just 6 months ago.  The roadway became dotted with orange barrels and splotches of gravely blacktop where the washed out roadbed had once been.  Our mood was as dark as the sky and the downpour of rain we drove thru. Where once a happy bright coastal town once sat was now a desert filled with just

skeletons of pylons where homes used to be.  Rows of pastel townhouses and cottages were now rags of their once fun loving spirit.  Empty lots that once held rentals and small mom and pop businesses were now parking lots for tired looking RV’s and motorhomes.  If a building did survive – most were still covered in bright blue shrouds.   Everywhere you looked were mountains of broken cement, shattered wood and shredded trees.   The beautiful white sand on the shore was now in plain site from the road, but

was dotted with earthmoving equipment trying to remove the remains of the houses that had once called the beach home.  Tyndall Air Force Base to the west also suffered loss.  The huge tract of pine trees that camouflaged the airstrip was now

gone.  Roofs were missing off of mammoth quonset huts and other buildings.   On one side of the road, all the snapped off trees were lying towards the west looking like a cemetery of toppled grave markers.  Across the road, they were lying to the east.  We had to keep moving.

We finally arrived at our next destination – Rocky Bayou State Park – our home for the next 6 nights.  New places to explore and old places to re-visit once more!