Spring Break 2008, pull out the beer bongs and the all night partying, right? Well, we did SEE some beer bongs and some folks who more than likely were celebrating their first taste of freedom into the wee hours of the morning. Us post thirty-somethings could only admire from afar, however. We gave it a good try but the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be.
What we did experience was a great little community about 20 miles west of Panama City, Florida in the pan handle, Rosemary Beach. The Crouse family found this jewel that lies right on the beaches of the Gulf of Mexico. While it’s doubtful any of us in attendance could afford to live in these million dollar-plus homes, it was great to live the swanky life for a week. The town was created in 1995, is a little over a 100 acres, has four pools, a fitness center, a cleaning service, and some incredibly unique houses throughout. The only thing lacking is a tavern but I’m sure that will come in due time.
Al, Greg, and I took off on Monday morning to tackle the inland lakes of Florida that we heard so much about. The destination was Deer Point Lake which is a bit northeast of Panama City. The lake breaks off into some river extensions which have what you are looking for to fish, a bunch of structure. With sunny, but windy conditions, our day was spent casting…..and casting some more. A big goose egg was had by all three of us. The guy we rented the fishing boat from was quite a character. Big Jimbo ran about 350 and his fishing/bait/animal feed/snack/beer shack was quite a scene inside and out. He had about a 50 inch television behind the counter and crap everywhere!!! With a couple of trailers in the front, the place was quite a visual. My picture doesn’t do justice. After returning from our unsuccessful journey, Jimbo, who does have quite the gift of gab, offered us the boat again on Wednesday at a lower rate if we wanted to try again. Well, Wednesday came and the weather couldn’t have been better. No wind and no clouds. We were ready to tackle this lake!! What started out as three giddy fishermen with high hopes ended roughly six hours later with more frustration than my junior year prom night. A big goose egg again. How could it be? We threw everything we had out there and not one darn fish. After consuming a few post fishing beverages, our crying subsided.
Tuesday afternoon/evening we went into Panama City to see if the spring break scene had changed since our time back in 1985. We pulled into a little dive bar called the Beach House. The parking lot was full so we thought this was going to be the place where the wet t-shirt/jello wrestling contests were going to take place. Well, when we walked in the door, our eyes were presented with roughly eighty senior citizens whooping it up.
We were advised that Tuesday’s from 2-6 is Canadian “night.” The area apparently has quite a few Canadians that migrate down there in the winter and this was their last hurrah before they all headed back north. Thankfully there were no wet t-shirt contests going on. We ventured from there towards a run down hotel that had a Tiki Bar advertised outside. We walked in the back and got a good chuckle at the scene. The beer bong was out, the youngsters were on their way to Buzztown, and there was dancing in the windows. All the elements were there. After a few more bars and a meal, we called it a night. I think we even made it up until 10 that night. We were feeling crazy!!
All in all it was a great week. I ate like a king (good food from the Crouse family), got a rental car upgrade at no cost, had my own room with a television, personal bathroom, and my own entrance/exit to the house. It was a much needed and well deserved vacation.
Trail Head
Last night’s ride on the Milford Trail has brought a new name to this trail, “The Junkyard.” While I saw the handful of abandoned refrigerators and old tires last year, I guess I didn’t notice it as much with the trees in full bloom. There is just a lot of crap out there. To add to the beauty, Hubbell Pond had the death smell coming from it. As Gus noted, there was more death out there than on “The Sopranos.” The dead fish smell was fierce. We went from burning trails last week at Island Lake to stinky trails this week in Milford. Crazy. The Milford Trail, still in its infant stages, is coming along fine but needs more riders to get the new paths worked in.
