Black Hills. Monuments and More! Westward Ho Part 4

Time to hit the Black Hills tourist trail.
Number one on the list, Mt Rushmore.

I had preconceived notions of what Mt Rushmore looked like. I knew the Presidents were carved upon a tall stone wall, and they were, but what I never imagined was that Mt Rushmore was a real mountain. Seeing the monument from a distance on top of that mountain was a revelation and as we walked up to monument, even though we knew what we were going to see, the size and clarity of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt carved in stone was incredible. This sum was more than the image. The power of the mountain transformed into visionary leaders on an incredible scale was inspiring. Being at Mt Rushmore was more than seeing Mt Rushmore. It was like standing at an alter to the United States. As Rome fell, so one day might the US, but Mt Rushmore will stand forever.



There's a great visitor center there. There's a film on the making of the monument, the sculptor's studio is open to the public and a terrific trail takes you down into the debris field under the monument. From here you get unique and inspiring views of each President.

























When you leave loop around to the left of the monument and you'll get this great profile of Washington from the road.

Mt Rushmore must be one of the most widely visited American monuments. We had toyed with the idea of starting the "license plate game", the game where you simply try to spy license plates form all 50 states as you travel the highways and byways. Pulling into the parking garage at Mt Rushmore blew that notion up. We literally saw all 50 states as we looked for a parking spot, including Alaska and Hawaii!

Saying goodbye to the Presidents we head towards another national monument. This time it's the Sioux Nation who is creating a monument to native peoples and their leaders by carving a likeness of the legendary Crazy Horse. Crazy Horse's head is so large all four President's on Mt Rushmore would fit in it! The final monument will not just be Crazy Horse's head however. He will sit astride his surging mount, hair blowing free, pointing towards the future. It'll probably take another 100 years to finish carving. I recommend a visit.

































Here's a model of the finished sculpture in front of the mountain being carved.






















There was a huge visitor center here too filled with information about the sculptor and a center for Native American arts. In front of the monument we watched a dance performance where the air was broken with the rhythmic beat of one drum accompanied by a high pitched native chant. Graceful dancers went trance like entering the personae of their totem animal in the eagle dance or buffalo dance.

Even though the monuments have been inspiring and thrilling we have a 12 year old with us who has other activities in mind. In the town of Keystone we tour the Big Thunder Gold mine. Founded by two German immigrants they dug this mine part time for over 30 years ... and never struck it rich. We panned for gold in Battle Creek filling two viles with souvenir gold flakes and we took a ride up the Rushmore Tramway so we could ride the Alpine Slide luge! The old mining towns turned tourist towns reminded us of towns we know in the Adirondack's like Saranac Lake, Lake Placid and Old Forge.



Heading back to our room at the State Game Lodge in Custer State Park we are once again immersed in a surreal and thrilling wildlife spectacle. Safe in our 2000 pound vehicle we get the extraordinary experience of being inside a Buffalo herd. Check it out.

Wildlife Loop Road, Custer State Park. Westward Ho Part 3

Excited by our Buffalo & antelope sightings the night before Molly & I are up at 5:30 AM to drive the Wildlife Loop Road in Custer State Park.


















Driving the loop to Rt 87 and back is at least a 30 mile round trip. The landscape is gorgeous rolling prairie grass hills and scattered forests. We had the road to ourselves. The rising sun was our constant companion, ever changing the color of the sky and landscape like a painter trying to entice us deeper and deeper into their fantasy. The sun threw out star bursts as it tried to climb above the earth while the opposing hills took on a radiance reflecting the golden grasses.



































The beauty of the dawn was enough to please but the Wildlife Loop did not disappoint. We saw Buffalo, Pronghorns, Mule Deer and Turkeys.









We stopped for breakfast at the Blue Bell Lodge. They say the Blue Bell Lodge is as comfortable as an old pair of blue jeans ...and it was. It's a beautiful log lodge, western style with field stone fireplaces, smooth logs and finished woods, well taken care of and polished. The interior shone in the morning light. We're up so early Molly & I have the place to ourselves. The food is good. Sausage, eggs and coffee. I can't resist sitting at the bar before we leave because the bar stools are horse saddles. :) Giddy up.

As we round the last bend in Rt 16A to get back to the State Game Lodge we encounter a huge surprise. The Buffalo herd has migrated into the State Game Lodge area and they are everywhere!



Back at the lodge it's time to get the boys out of bed. Today we tour the Black Hills!

Custer State Park, South Dakota. Westward Ho Part 2

We started to see hills in the distance as we crossed the border from Nebraska to South Dakota. The lodge pole pine covered hills look black from a distance, thus, the name Black Hills. General George Custer, a Lieutenant at the time, lead an expedition here that found gold in 1874. The gold rush that followed attracted prospectors and miners into what was Sioux Indian land. It spawned the legendary town of Deadwood where famed outlaws like Wild Bill Hickcock and Calamity Jane lived and now lie buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery. The gold rush was the beginning of the end for the nomadic Sioux as whites moved in and the government reneged on their treaties and took the Black Hills from them. Little did Custer know his discovery of gold was also the beginning of his end.

We didn't know what to expect here. I thought the area was going to be poor, rural, backward, desolate and dirty. I was wrong. It was absolutely gorgeous. For me it turned out to be the surprise of the trip.

As we made our way off the prairie and into the Black Hills the diversions started to multiply. We drove through the enticing town of Hot Springs where natural hot springs and fossilized mammoth bones beckoned. We didn't stop however. We'd been in the car about 9 hours so with blinders on I drive straight through Wind Cave National Park and a Wild Mustang Refuge focused on getting to the Custer State Park Game Lodge before dark.

As soon as we got on Rt87 the magic started. Buffalo. A solitary Buffalo. Wow, what a majestic creature....and huge! Solid, broad shouldered, head down, horns curling outward, black inky eyes following us as we pass. I hoped we see Buffalo. Little did I know, we'd see a lot. Over the course of the next two weeks we'd see a couple thousand but we never, and I mean all four of us, never lost the thrill of seeing or being in a herd of Buffalo.


Here we are on Rt87 entering Custer State Park. This is literally where the Buffalo roam and the deer and antelope play.









When we finally got to the State Game Lodge it was dark. The lodge was woodsy. It had a great porch and field stone fireplaces. Presidents Coolidge and Eisenhower used it as summer White House's. We squeaked in just under the wire for dinner service and dined on Buffalo, Elk, Venison and local trout. What'd you expect at the Game Lodge? They had a wonderful wine list too that Molly & I partook of after which we all went gently into the night and slumber.

NE Colorado & Western Nebraska - Westward Ho Part 1

We're in virgin territory. We're traveling the northern plains and the Rocky Mountains in the U.S. This is home to the fabled Wild West and the great Indian tribes of the Sioux, Pawnee and Cheyenne. It's also home to the legends of Wild Bill Hickcock, Calamity Jane, General George Custer and Buffalo Bill. And, it's the landscape of the tuneful "Give me a home where the Buffalo roam, where the deer and the antelope play". I'll become my own Buffalo Bill as I explore one of the great landscapes of the world.




On the east coast our world is framed by the environment. The urban and suburban developments, the trees and forests. We have to look up to see the sky. That framing is flipped on it's head out west. The Great Plains are framed by the sky. Everything else is subservient.


Traveling on the plains our existence shrinks to ant-like proportions. We revel in the solitude. We're captured in euphoric gaze at the stratospheric billowing clouds painting the heavens. We're in awe of the pioneers and the travelers of the Oregon Trail. On every ridge I expect to see a line of Sioux sitting majestic on their painted ponies surveying us as friend or foe. I think of two of my favorite movies, Dances With Wolves and Pow Wow Highway and love that I have entered their landscapes.























Cutting through the plains are gully's, gulches washouts and mini-canyons. Striations of sediment stripe the exposed earth and give color to the golden grasslands. Occasionally in western Nebraska buttes & bluffs rise from nowhere. These were significant landmarks for the great western migrations of the Oregon and Mormon Trails. I think of Bonanza and every cowboy movie I've ever seen as grass, sage and prickly pear cactus roll away from a gulch back towards a distant towering butte.







At desperately empty crossroads on the oceans of prairie we find abandoned cars patina'd to desirable finishes and ghosted homesteads standing as monuments to a past generations life's work.










It's not void of life out here though. There are a few homesteads, huge cultivated farms and even larger grazing lands with Texas Longhorns and Black Angus. Freight trains too cut across the landscape, their orange engines cutting a striking figure against the deep blue sky.



































We flew into Denver from Boston and spent our first night in Boulder Colorado. In the morning we headed east, the Rockies receding and diminishing in our review mirror. Our goal was to get out on the plains. We head north through the Pawnee National Grasslands ...on a dirt road. Very cool and adventurous. We collected bugs on our windshield and streamed a billowing plume of dust as we broke the silence of the nothingness.





Somewhere in the middle of nowhere we find our road washed out. What do we do? We go for it!






Further on we inconspicuously entered western Nebraska. We had no idea where we were but as long as I kept the sun on my left I knew we were heading north and we'd eventually run into Rt 80. We did, and continued to head north to the Oregon Trail landmark of Scott's Bluff where we took a slight detour east. We passed Courthouse Rock and Chimney Rock on our way to the town of Alliance to see the infamous Carhenge, a recreation of Stonehenge made out of cars!





With the sun arcing downward on the western horizon and satisfied with our first day's explorations we make haste for South Dakota. We know we're getting close when we hear the strains of Lakota tribal chanting on a radio station broadcasting from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Welcome to South Dakota.

Changes in Lattitude Changes in Attitude - Key West

Night 1

I'm sitting in the outdoor cabana bar at the Sheraton Key West. I just drove 3 1/2 hours from Ft Lauderdale so the ice cold Margarita feels good. Molly & I visited Key West eight years ago for a day. We liked it enough to always talk about going back, and here we are. This time we're staying in the city of Key West so we can soak it all in, experience the vibe, walk the streets, patronize the restaurants, bars and shops.

My boys are amusing me as they flirt with the teenage girls in the pool. We laugh as the boys disappear behind the waterfall with the girls. Ah, to be teenagers again.

I always think of Key West as a Carribean destination but it's not really. It's bounded by the Atlantic on one side and the Gulf of Mexico on the other. It's not dominated by African descendants, Reggae, Salsa or Junkanoo music even though the original inhabitants were Cubans and Bahamians. It's definitely Floridian, American. It's rock-n-roll, country, honky tonk and Jimmy Buffet nautical. The self proclaimed Conch Republic lives by it's own rules. It's beautiful with lovingly preserved Victorian architecture, blue skies, aqua waters and upscale boutique hotels.

The pool below me is an ameba shaped affair underlit by aqua lights with a waterfall at the far end. Behind the waterfall's faux rocks is the hot tub. White chaise lounge chairs line the pool in two rows and palm trees create an open canopy over it all. It's a fine tropical scene. The pace of life decreases with each tropical breeze that sways the palms and tussles the hair. "Bartender, how about a Pina Colada this time ...and float the rum please".

Day 2

The next morning we walk into town. It's quite a hike, about two miles. We walk along Smathers Beach on the sea level coastal roads. It's a little unsettling to see the sea, with no waves, lapping onto the street. The island is literally at sea level with the highest point being the northwest part of the island in Old Town at 18 feet. A cabbie told us that during a hurricane these lowlands can be under 6 feet of water! As we get closer to the old town/downtown we enter beautiful neighborhood’s of Flordian Victorian gingerbread homes and inns all under the canopy of Banyan and Palm trees.

Very idyllic. We enter the southern end of Duval St and walk it from the Atlantic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico. Along the way we stop for breakfast at La Francaise's café. We sit on the outdoor porch of the converted Victorian home turned cafe'. There's a nice hard body sunning across the street for Molly to look at as we enjoy the food and French Roast. I order the fruit plate. Amazingly fresh and tropical.

Duval Street is the main drag in Key West. It's full of shops and restaurants of all kind.The southern end feels like a neighborhood, it's low key and friendly with art galleries, coffee shops, bakery's and wine bars in single story buildings and converted homes. By the time you get up to the north end it's a full-on tourist destination. This is where you'll find the Hard Rock Café, Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, Sloppy Joe's and Hog's Breath Saloon.

As we try to find the shuttle bus location back to the Sheraton I see a bone white sandy beach and aqua green seascape. We make for it like moths to a flame. It's a beautiful in-town beach next to the Hyatt Pier House. There are four people here including two hobo types waking up from sleeping somewhere. We exchange "good mornings" and smiles. Another guy lays sprawled on the sand soaking up the morning sun and his girlfriend is swimming in the aqua clear water. Molly and I walk out the small pier gawking at the beauty, amazed at our fortune to be in this beautiful place ..... then, as the girlfriend comes out of the water her top falls off. Hello!. Tit for tat really as earlier when we were walking down Duval Street some guy mooned the street from his hotel balcony. It was a morning of southern exposure for Molly and I.

Later we all go to Mel Fishers's Treasure Museum. Very cool. Mel spent a lifetime looking for sunken Spanish treasure. He lost a son and daughter-in-law in the quest but finally found a 400 million dollar motherlode of sunken treasure when they found the Spanish galleon Atocha. His company is still actively finding treasure. In 2007 they brought up 500 rare pearls! The museum is full of treasure from the deep. Cannons, swords, jewelry, pieces of eight and gold ingots. I lifted a 2 1/2" by 8” ingot. It must have weighed 40 lbs! ...Heavy!

Parched from Mel's we take a food and drink respite at the famous Hog's Breadth Saloon and listen to a couple local musicians. We get a double order of conch fritters, Jamacian jerk chicken wings and mango shrimp washed down with Pina Colada's and Corona's. I could have lingered another hour but I get pulled to Ripley's Believe It or Not, believe it or not. If you ever find your self at Hog's Breath call family and friends and wave to 'em on the live web cam.

As evening approaches we head down to Mallory Square for the sunset celebration. We park ourselves at a cafe on Westin Pier next to the cat man. This guy is hysterical. He does a trained cat show. Who among us can get a cat to do anything? Nobody I know. This guy has house cats trained like lions in the circus. They jump on stands, they jump over each other and through rings of fire! It'd be impossible to describe him accurately. He is more amusing than the cats. Watch this video.

Eventually the sun sets below the horizon in a perfect disappearing act. Applause erupts at its complete disappearance and the curtain openes on night-time in Key West where things don't stop until 4:00AM. Inspired, Molly and I stay in town after we put the rest of the family in a cab back to the hotel. We discover a place called Nine One Five on Duval St and take a seat at the outdoor cafe. The gingerbread Victorian house turned restaurant is framed on either side by under-lit elephant palms. We each have a glass of New Zealand Sauvignion Blanc and enjoy the cacophony of Duval St. Next we head off to Loius' Backyard. Louis is halfway back to our hotel on the southern end of the island in a wonderfully quaint neighborhood. As we walk there the moonlight presses palm shadows down on the road and street lights flicker like stars through the palm and banyan. The sea smell fills the air as we walk toward a palm covered sandy white beach that is the side entrance to the Backyard. The ocean bellows it's hello with frothy whitecaps and a steady breeze. Entering at the back deck, the restaurant is to our left three deck levels up. The bar is straight ahead. Off to the right is the Atlantic, actively kissing the deck. We order a couple glasses of wine and find a secluded spot to enjoy a night cap and then head home.

Day 3

Like the Spanish, pirates, treasure hunters and assorted outlaws who came before us we head to sea the next morning It's Saturday and we're going an all day nautical excursion 70

miles west of Key West to Ft. Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas. After cruising a blue on blue landscape for 90 minutes where sky meets water, the Fort appears like a mirage out of the horizon. We circle the island and pull up to the dock where we're greeted by two manatees who slowly move to make way for the ship looming over them. The fort itself is a huge 19th century structure encompassing the entire island of Garden Key.

Inside you can see the barrel vaulted architecture used to build this gigantic structure. The group of islands (keys) here get their name Dry because none of the islands have fresh water and Tortugas because sailors use to stop at the islands to harvest sea turtles for fresh meat. The fort has an interesting history of protecting the Florida Straights from pirates and of being a Union jail during the Civil War. History later though, were here to snorkel! We start by swimming on the west side of the key along the fort moat wall and see the occasional fish but when I move over to the old coal dock piers I become Jacques Cousteau! There are fish everywhere! Parrot fish, trumpet fish, angel fish, yellowtail snapper and box fish. As I float languidly in the azur waters however, I'm shocked out of my bliss by a 5 foot nurse shark that swims under me. My heart leaps and I swim towards shore continuously turning my body in circles to look around me...is he coming back, any other sharks? After 15 feet or so I calm down and stop. Nurse sharks are bottom feeders, they eat spiny lobsters, crabs, shrimps, sea urchins, octopuses, squid, and marine snails off the ocean floor, not humans. What a wimp. I head back to the piers to enjoy the fish and look for the two manatee's we saw when we pulled into the dock earlier. After a tasty prepared lunch on the boat Dylan and I head over to a different set of old coal piers on the east side of the key. The water here was incredibly clear and the fish population was even denser. This last dive really made my day. Check out the water in this video.

Happy, waterlogged and sunsplashed Molly & I befriend the bartender on the trip back and get rewarded with terrific Pina Coladas with the rum floated on top, including an extra shot!

A day at sea deserves a good dinner. We head to Mangos for dinner. We have crusted red snapper with garlic mash, Chicken Picatta, raw in the middle ahai tuna and an iceburg lettuce wedge with blue cheese and bacon, flash fried. The food is complimented with an amazing olive bread with honey butter and another terrific New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. When we finish eating the back of my suburned calves hurt so bad I have to call Uncle and crash for the night.

Day 4

We got up early this AM (Sunday) to tour Key West on bikes. I totally recommend bikes. You can cover a lot of ground.

Breeze on our faces we wheel through the beautiful Victorians in closely settled neighborhoods. Most of the Victorians have two story porches and mature tropical plantings. Once on each block we peek through a gate or planted entry to see an Inn or Boutique Resort with beautifully landscaped grounds and a pool - or multiple pools. Cafe tables are full with guests having coffee and reading the morning papers. On the southwest side of the island we explore Bahamatown and make our way out to Fort Zachary Taylor beach. This is in my opinion the best beach in Key West. There are the ruins of the old fort, a sculpture park , a wooded picnic area and a nice sandy beach with concessions, beach chairs and umbrellas for rent. The water is crystal clear and there is a parade of boats exiting Key West into the turquoise waters for the day. This is our plan too, more snorkeling but this time out over the coral reef.

Later in the morning we board the cataraman Fury http://www.furycat.com/key-west/snorkeling.htm with 50 other people and head out to the coral reef a few miles south of Key West. The excursion provides all the masks, fins and life jackets. All we have to do is jump in the water. The ocean floor varies from 4’ to 40’ depths as we swim. My son Drew dives down pretending he's a scuba diver. Being out over the reef in endless water in all directions is amazing. It must be what it feels like to float in space, ... if there were tropical fish in space. We spend the afternoon snorkeling, swimming alone or holding hands to stick together. Too soon we hear the call to re-board the boat. As we swim up to the boat to climb the back stairs we have a final treat as a 4 foot Barracuda eyeballs us from the shadows under the boat.

It’s free beer on the way back, and after an explanation of Key West’s liberal open container law we get full glasses of beer as we disembark too!

Tonight we head back to Bahamatown for dinner and to check out Earnest Hemingway's house. The house is a handsome two story stone Spanish Colonial built in 1851. He lived there with about 50 cats, whose descendants, including famed six-toed cats, still roam the premises. It was here he wrote some of his most famous works, including For Whom the Bell Tolls and A Farewell to Arms. Great tour. I recommend it. I love his books. I re-read the Old Man and the Sea before this trip and next on my list is his novella set in Key West called "To Have And Have Not".

Adios to the cats, we're off to a restaurant called Blue Heaven. Through the years the property has hosted a bordello, cock fighting, gambling and Friday night boxing matches refereed by Ernest Hemingway. We’re just here for dinner. J The “dining room” is outdoors under a leafy canopy of trees. You have to keep an eye out for falling almonds, Spanish limes, coconuts, and roosters. Yes roosters. Roosters are free roaming inhabitants of Key West. They are everywhere and their crowing is a constant reminder. There are cats here too, lounging on railings and the tin roofs of the restaurant and bar cabana. We order latitudinal cuisine of Carribean BBQ Shrimp with Jamaican jerk seasonings, Jamaican Jerk Chicken, Goombay Gumbo Soup, and Sauteed Yellowtail Snapper with Citrus Beurre Blanc Sauce. I wash it all down with an ice cold favorite we discovered in the Bahamas, Kalik Beer. Here's short peek at the restaurant.

This being our last night in town we head to Duval street again and take a shortcut through Trumen Annex which is a beautifully restored and redeveloped naval base. President Truman's summer White House is here. The Clinton’s have stayed here. A lot of Presidents and Royalty have stayed here. When we get to the opposite end of the Annex to exit we find we’re locked in! Turns out George Bush Sr is here fishing. He must have a file on Molly and has her trapped! But before George can swoop in and ship her down to Guantanamo an employee of one of the local inns comes buy with a key and we escape to Duval St. Whew!

Duval St. is full of musicians in the back of bars throwing their music out to the sidewalk through open windows and doors. Inside IS outside here. Everything is wide open. Outdoor living is what you do. Every other building has live music. Mostly singer songwriter types, guitar in hand perched atop a stool with their mouths wrapped around a mic. As day turns to night solo and duo acts give way to bigger groups and bigger crowds. The town draws it's share of talent. Kenny Chesney just played at Sloppy Joe’s. Looking through an open window into a bar on Duval street Dylan & I are frozen by a guitar master. He's attacking a medley of Led Zeppelin songs, rocking hard. He pulls out a bow for the middle section of Whole Lotta Love and draws it across his electric lady love. I knew Jimmy Page did this but I've never seen it done, Dylan's never heard of such a thing in his life. When the music stops Dylan and I find ourselves alone and quickly beat feet to find the rest of the family and we all head towards the throngs of sunsetters in Mallory Square again. This time we find ourselves in front of an entertaining British juggler, a tightrope walker and a dog show as we stroll down the square and boardwalks. The square itself is paved in brick. It’s very large, like a European piazza and is framed on three sides by shops, restaurants, the Key West Aquarium and hotels. On the west there is only a handrail between you and the open aquamarine sea. The sky is turning a reddish orange at the horizon fading to deep blue above. Behind me the clouds glow orange against the blue sky reflecting the spent rays of the sun.

The tanned and toned crowd mills back and forth, drink of choice in hand enjoying the street performers, talking, laughing, cheering. There's about 1000 feet of waterfront to traverse and enjoy every night. Schooners, yachts, Glass Bottom Boats and Catamarans parade by the boardwalk as they make their way back to safe harbor.

At the far north end of the Square we enter a boardwalk and end up at a bar/restaurant called the Conch Republic. Molly & I indulge our new interest in Mojito’s.

A pony tailed hipster sits down next to a tanned and cute women next to me at the bar. He puts his arm around her and starts talking to her. He grabs the drink in front of him and starts drinking until the bartender comes over and tells him “that’s not your date”. He looks at the girl with a surprised look on his face and quickly moves down two stools to his own date who is unaware her date is blind, or a dope. Lol. – that was funny! Mojitos gone, we hop in a cab and call it a night.

Our Last Day

We fish today! I pull everybody out of bed at the crack of dawn and down to the Key West Bight. That’s Conch talk for the little natural harbor and marina where we catch our boat. After a quick breakfast at Pepe's Cafe, the oldest eating establishment in Key West we board the boat. It’s a typical party boat fishing. Rods are at the ready around the side rails and next to them are bait buckets full of squid and Ballyhoo. The squid is already diced up ready to hook. The Ballyhoo is cut up into chunks as well but if you grab a head you still have to break the needle off it’s nose otherwise no fish will bite it for fear of stabbing themselves. The sea is calm and the sky is that ever present cloudless blue. The fishing is slow but every once in a while someone pulls in a Yellowtail or Makerel. We were hoping for giant Grouper but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Dylan catches an Atlantic Croaker which Drew proceeds to use as live bait. Dylan’s not happy with his fishing prowess but we’re all amused by a pelican who’s following us. We feed him fish and he floats effortlessly by the boat every time we reposition.

After catching his fair share of fish Drew gets bored standing at the rails and makes his way over to the bait fish tank where he amuses himself by chasing the fish with his hand shaped like a shark. Bum,bum,bum,bum,bum,bum,bum,bum! Then when that's not fun any more he proceeds to do what all 12 year old boys do to fish. He grabs a sharp 8" knife, pokes the eyes out, cuts the head and tail off, slices open the belly and looks at the guts. Classic.

On the way back in we spy a turtle and flying fish. Wow. I though flying fish just jumped out of the water like porpoise, then went back under. Was I wrong. These things look like they are flying and stay 8” above the water for 100 yards or so. And they move fast. They literally look like a bird skimming the water for prey. Freaky. Happy, tanned and sufficiently saturated with good food and drink we make the drive back to Ft Lauderdale. Sun glasses on for protection and looking cool. I survey the waterworld from the never ending bridges and Keys, enjoying the colors and swaying palms, savoring the change in lattitude and the change in attitude plotting my triumphant return.

Le Colonial - San Francisco

This is why I roam around cities I visit, rarely going to the same place twice. I stumbled upon an enchanting establishment called Le Colonial.

The place is in a back alley off Taylor St between Sutter and Post in San Francisco. I noticed valet parking in the alley in front of a nondescript door and figured something good must be going on in there. I make a couple surveillance passes and then confidently stride through the door to immediate pleasure. I didn't have any expectations per se' but a grand art nouveau wrought-iron rail staircase presents itself to me, beckoning me upward. At the top I find myself in a second story open-air wrought-iron peaked portico lined with candle-lit cafe' tables under ever present California outdoor heaters. A grand entry, and a fine place to linger and dine in itself. I walk to the maitre de, "Do you have a bar" I ask. "Of course Sir, up the stairs to the left"

The main dining room is ahead of me as I enter the building. Gleaming white paneled wood and table cloths with sparkling glasses and service ware keep watch over a refined and well dressed clientele who left their valet parked cars out front.

The stairs climb the left wall of the dining room. I ascend into tropical French colonial Vietnam. What a great vibe, dark oak floor with a rust red bead board ceiling. Rataan furniture populates a huge 70x50' room. Candle lit tables sit between rattan furniture seatings. The candles slightly flicker in the calm air movement generated by tropical ceiling fans. Fabric wainscoted walls line the room with bamboo lined panels at 4-8 feet. A wall cornice and stucco fill the remaining space to the high ceiling. Beautiful photographs of early twentieth century Vietnam line the walls. Potted tropical plants and floral Victorian lighting grace the walls and decorative columns. As I sit at the bar 1920's jazz fills the room. It's the vignette for the murmur of conversations, clinking of dishes and workman tasks of the bartenders. The scene moves in slow motion before me as I inhale the ambience. I imagine I'm in French colonial Hanoi in the '40's.

Check it out.

Le Colonial. 20 Cosmo Place, San Francisco, Ca. 94109

the Beats go on - San Francisco

Somebody lies with Jack Kerouac tonight.

…I'm looking at ash, human remains, scattered down foggy Jack Kerouac Alley. The ashes are sprinkled alongside quotes engraved in stone tablets. The tablets are embedded in the alley pavers, solid, immovable, imortal, positioned for eternity.

"Poetry is the shadow cast by our streetlight imaginations". - Lawrence Ferlinghetti.

The powerful draw of the Beats, their poetry and legacy is laid out before me tonight. A honored soul's remains rest in peace in the Beat mecca, North Beach San Francisco.

"The free exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world". - John Steinbeck.

I read On The Road by Jack Kerouac last year. It's why I'm here in North Beach. It's a road trip book. It's THE definitive road trip book. Sal Paradise (Jack Kerouac), the main character, travels with his buddy Dean Moriarty (based on Neal Cassady) from New York to San Franciso and points in between; multiple times. The road traveled is not just taken in miles but in the culture, landscape and mindscape of America in the immediate years after WWII. I enjoyed the "trip" but struggled to see what was so important about the book until I came to realize the common language it's written in IS Kerouac. He was a major influencer on the language we speak today inventing and bringing jazz speak to the literary world. What seemed so common to me in the book was at that time a rejection against the conservative 50's. It was a new way of thinking, speaking and writing. Baby, it was holy and groovy when we hit the road with Sal, cool. I still use those words in 2008. :)

Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. - Maya Angelou.

The Beats championed a powerful freedom of thought and expression that helped bust open the 60's. The beats turned into the hippies. The hippies went on to change American culture and politics in a lot of ways.

As I stand in the alley, in a misting San Francisco night, I look onto Columbus Avenue. The street howls with the reflecting colors of the neighborhood neon. The colored lights paint the street in a wash of wet color. Jazz wails from Pearl's Jazz Club across the street. I could be Sal Paradise on this "mad night, hearing a wild tenorman bawling horn across the way, going "EE-YAH! EE-YAH! EE-YAH!" and hands clapping to the beat and folks yelling, Go, go,go!....Blow, man, blow!"

Feels good man. I am, On The Road.

"The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great...." - Jack Kerouac