Amelia Island to Miami

Ella and I drove straight to Amelia Island, a 9-hour drive, and as darkness was rapidly approaching I realized pretty quickly that free camping isn’t really a thing in Florida. I started this adventure on Dec 20^th, 2021, and the northeast coast of Florida was my first stop. I found a campsite at Fort Clinch, a beautiful state park lined with tall live oaks with twisted branches, dripping with Spanish moss.

The campsite was a tent site, but in this particular park, they wouldn’t let me use my roof top tent (RTT). No big deal, I thought, I’ll pitch my ground tent and be just as happy. Unfortunately, the evening was super windy, and it was getting darker, both challenges to setting up a tent. I was exhausted from a long drive so opted not to pitch my tent, which meant sleeping in my car. This is a real bummer. Sleeping in my car is not like sleeping in a van or RV. All the space in my Subie is taken up by storage: food and cooking equipment, clothes for all seasons and weather conditions, mechanical and recovery tools for my car, and my camping gear. Ella sits on the back seat on the passenger side, and every other square inch of space is spoken for. Sleeping in the car means sitting upright in front of the steering wheel, hoping I can find a tolerable position for a few hours at a time.

So, I wasn’t thrilled, but I was exhausted. In my fatigue it seemed like the best option. Well, turns out there was a huge storm that blew through, and the rain and the wind were crazy strong. I was SO glad I was in my car and not in a ground tent. And I was so tired, I ended up getting a pretty good night’s sleep, all told. It was, however, really cold, and I wasn’t dressed for it, nor had I pulled out my sleeping bag.

The next morning first thing, Ella and I went for a long walk in the residual rain. There was a beautiful trail in the park that took us through a hammock – a forest made up of both tropical shrubs and hardwood trees. The lushness and variety of plant life in and of itself was amazing, but just beyond the vegetation were giant sand dunes. It wasn’t like anything I had seen before, a mixture of Southern pine and oak forest, jungle palmettos and ferns, and beach grass. Really gorgeous. Breathtaking, in fact.

I was struck by the incredible beauty of these maritime forests, full of oak trees, pine trees, and vines, but also palms, shrubs, and succulents – even cactus. Hammocks are wildly populated with ferns, fungus, and verdant life, all set against white, sandy dunes covered in sea oats and beach flowers. All the things you would find on the beach and in a forest together. The sea grape shrubs with their beautiful broad, round waxy leaves – just so gorgeous. I read that the settlers used those leaves as dinner plates because they’re so big and sturdy; I can totally see it. This jungly, tropical area is just teeming with so many birds: egrets and cranes, birds generally the size of cats, but some as large as dogs, with very long legs and long bills. Some bills are long and hooked and pointed while some are round and flatten out into a spoonbill. Some birds have plumage that is all white, some all black, some pink and rosy, and some really fluffy and feathery like the tricolored heron.

I couldn’t wait to get out and see the Island. Ella and I went to Fernandina Beach, and it was such a cute little town. It seemed to be a leisure town with its resorts, but at the same time historical, so it had a distinctly unique feel. There was a sweet little shopping district with storefronts, coffee houses, and all kinds of boutique-y shops just across the street from a marina. It was quite picturesque. The quaint, old-timey feel was very welcoming, and we walked around for several hours. Watch shops, shoe shops, toy shops, and boutiques were all decorated for Christmas, and the vibe was really chill. It was still raining and chilly, but only a light rain. After walking through the brick-lined walkways with Dickens-like streetlamps and locals greeting each other warmly, we stopped at a coffee shop where Ella and I shared a bagel sitting outside at a café table in front. We were greeted by everyone who passed us. It was really, very charming.

From there we drove around the island a bit, in awe of the giant live oaks cascading with Spanish moss. The streets were endlessly shaded by a canopy of branches from the stately, giant trees on opposite sides of the street, intertwining with each other overhead. The rain made the streets glisten, and it gave everything a majestic air. It was a magnificent, sensory feast.

From Amelia Island, we went to St. Augustine Beach. The Atlantic Ocean is much rougher than the Gulf I’m used to in the panhandle of Florida. The surf was surging into white-capped waves that crashed over themselves loudly and relentlessly. The sand was no less dramatic. The wind blew whisps of dry, white sand over the dark, wet beach like a constant and swiftly flowing river. Being at the confluence of these two forces, the waves crashing in one direction and the wind blowing the sand in a perpendicular direction, created a constant, clashing energy. The effect was mesmerizing. Ella and I soaked in that scene for a good while before heading to find a campsite for the evening. We stayed in Anastasia State Park that evening, chosen for its wild beauty. It would offer the perfect hike in the morning before we set off toward the south to the Everglades.

On our way south, we stopped at the lighthouse at Ponce Inlet, at the Canaveral National Seashore, and at the Manatee Overlook, and took several hikes along the way. Although we didn’t see any manatees, we did see a river otter run right in front of us and dive into the water, as well as several jumping fish, and of course the ubiquitous alligator. We had spent a lot of time out in the wild, and I was in need of a rest from watching Ella with the utmost vigilance to keep her safe from the wildlife, so we stopped at a hotel in Titusville where the Kennedy Space Station is. And here comes the irony. While we were having our respite in civilization at a hotel with a pool, hot shower, and washer and dryer, Ella almost provoked a gator attack.

There was a catchment pond behind the hotel with a sign posted that said Beware of Alligator. You don’t have to tell me twice. I was sure not to go near that pond and to steer Ella’s walks in the opposite direction. One morning as we were wrapping up our morning walk, I was switching hands with her leash to navigate the door key. She broke loose and ran, top speed, to the pond where the alligator purportedly hangs out. I called her, but she was hell-bent on finding out what made her spidey-senses go off whenever we walked past the pond. She got about halfway around the pond when she heard – we heard – a roar. An animalistic, deep throaty roar, like a lion. She stopped in her tracks, and the bellowing sounded again. Then again. I turned toward the sound, and sure enough, there was an alligator in the water with its head and tail both out, about 20-30 feet from Ella, warning her not to come any closer. With each bellow it forced, its body contracted, and the water around it rippled. I was hollering for Ella the whole time, and she finally decided that coming back to me was her most prudent course of action. She steered clear of the pond for the remainder of our stay there.

While there we visited Coco Beach, Kennedy Space Center, and several more nature preserve trails. Since I have Ella, we didn’t do any attractions, but we spent our time walking and taking in the sights and sounds of the eastern coast of Florida. On our way south, we traveled the scenic A1A or Hwy 1 the whole way, opting for the slow, picturesque route, rather than the Interstate. I took in the military vibe of Patrick Space Force Base (I didn’t even know we had Space Force Bases!), the posh beach houses of Hobe Sound, and the endless, gorgeous Atlantic beach views. This was Christmas Day, and I was bound for Miami’s South Beach. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a holiday.

We arrived at Miami Beach with light to spare and walked on the boardwalk until well past dark. It was fun to feel the energy of Miami and watch folks enjoy their nightlife and family time. It was especially fun to hear the multiplicity of languages and see the diversity of people, both local and visiting. I had made a plan to be in Miami for two nights because I was going to take a walking tour of Little Havana, as well as take in some other sights, such as the Art Deco district, the Wynwood Walls, and the like.

The truth is, though, the longer I stayed in Miami, the worse I started to feel. The parking was atrocious, and the overcrowding and commercialism were sucking the life straight out of my body. I tried my luck parking in a paid lot, but the transactions with the unmanned, parking-ticket machine made for a very slow process for the long line of people of diverse languages. People were everywhere; concrete was everywhere; traffic never stopped; restaurants and shops had long lines; and money was constantly changing hands. It was 85 F, and the sun was beating down strong. The whole scene was killing my soul. I changed my mind right there and decided to forego my Airbnb and head on down to the Everglades.

I felt relief immediately. It was an affirmation that my purpose for this trip is not about travel but connecting with our country’s vast wilderness resources.

I never did the Little Havana tour, nor did I participate in any holiday revelry. I was so content with experiencing south Florida my own, special, quiet way. One thing I loved about Miami – the trees are fire!