After a week of hiking under the canopy in the Swampy Green and Richloam Land Conservation area’s I was ready to see the sky, and confirm that more than 10 people still existed on the planet. I pushed hard for 9 1/2 hours until the woods finally spit me out, footsore and exhausted.

The next portion of the ‘trail’ was a long road walk but at that point I was only a three-day walk to another good friend who was wintering in Florida with her husband and had also invited me to visit. So again, I went off trail. About five hours later my friend, Glenda, texted me – “Where are you? I feel like a drive?” She picked me up walking along the road. Such a kind and lovely surprise!

There is nothing quite like sleeping on hard ground, eating trail gruel and immersion into solitude to feel intense gratitude for a comfy bed, delicious food and good friends. I sure appreciated the three nights of generous hospitality visiting Glenda and Mark in their lovely motor home on a horse ranch close to Ocala. I went to church with them and afterwards we enjoyed a variety southern dishes at the church lunch. Anna Marie (a super fun lady we met there) invited us to Rainbow Springs the following day where sat by the water and picnicked on brisket sandwiches. It was a beautiful day! So many thanks to Glenda and Mark!

I set up my tent at Glenda and Mark’s place planning to sleep in it, but instead, just kept my gear there. It was a shock when I went to pack up and found fire ants swarming the inside. I couldn’t believe it! I don’t know how they got in! Even after shaking and shaking my clothes, inside and out, I didn’t get them all. I repaired 17 small holes in my tent floor where they had chewed through. My poor old tent is increasingly held together with duck tape, bandades, a wish and a prayer. Good thing I went to church!

With single digit nights continuing as far as my weather app can see I have changed course yet again in my quest for warmer nights. I took a Greyhound red eye milk run to Miami. The Miami bus terminal is full of interesting characters and is a unique slice of life at 3am. But it was still too cold, so I booked a 4am bus to Key West.

So here I am. Literally as far south as I can go without getting on a boat. I have started walking back. I am still gimpy as one of my feet still hasn’t recovered from the push in the woods but I will follow the Florida Keys Overseas Heritage Trail as far as I can make it and see what I see. A lot of water I think. With all this bouncing around, if it seems like I have ants in my pants, it’s because I still do. As far as the ants go, I may not be out of the woods just yet!

When I left Ann and Scott’s place they kindly drove me to the road intersecting with the trail so I could continue on my way. Since then I have been in the interior of Florida’s land reserve and wetlands hiking through swamp, ancient oaks dripping with Spanish moss and grassland. I am enjoying the wildlife. Cranes and ibises of all kinds fly against the golden grass in the morning light and deer frolic. I saw a bear with two cubs (far ahead), a couple of iguana’s, ripples from alligators, vultures pecking away at carcasses (happily not mine) and a multitude of creatures that scurry out of my way and nothing has paid me any mind at all. These are peaceful places that seem far more removed from civilization than I think they actually are.

This section of the trail is also a designated hunting area. Funny, I wouldn’t have thought that hunting and hiking would be a great mix. But here in Florida I guess it’s ok. When I entered into the actual reserve area, the lady at the gate gave me a hunters orange vest and said to wear it all the time and to be careful. So I have been wearing it and I have been careful. So far it’s good, I haven’t been shot. But I did get a funny little scare. I was walking along humming away to myself when a large, fit man in full combat gear with a blackened face and a very big crossbow emerged from the trees directly in front of me. I hadn’t seen a soul in three days and hunters don’t scare me, but I just about peed myself. He nodded to me and I nodded to him and he melted back into the forest. No harm at all, but it was a little spooky. Afterwards I conjured up a whole screen play in my mind.

That night I stayed at my first actual designated camp spot on the trail called Gator Hole campsite (right beside Gator Hole Pond). I was resting in my tent when out of nowhere I heard, “Is that you Blueberry?” I poked my head out and it was two hikers (Calf and Feltspar) that I met at the breakfast with Freshground and a couple of their friends. I asked them how they knew it was me and they said, your Big Agnes tent. Holy! We visited for ten minutes or so and, knowing I’m not on social media, they invited me to Florida trail hikers party a couple of towns away in a few days time. Imagine! I thanked them but said I probably wouldn’t. See you up the trail they said, and merrily kept on their way.

I really didn’t want to leave the trail but getting a charge on my phone had become a top priority. My percentage of power was in single digits and still no sun. I didn’t even want to turn my phone on to check my trail app to find out how much further to a road intersection. I figured I’d just keep walking and take the first opportunity I could. A few hours later the trail intercepted with a small dirt road and I saw a white vehicle parked a couple of kilometres down. I beelined it and on arriving saw a group of women sitting around a campfire. They invited me to sit, brought me fresh water (to replace my pond water), snacks and a battery pack to charge my phone (so now I can write my post:)). Such a treat they were! A group of van lifers who had connected on Lulu’s you tube channel (called Lulu’s way). Lulu showed me her adorable van that she outfitted herself and I danced with them on her channel (it’s one of the things she does). It was a super cool and inspiring interlude. I love the sisterhood of women! And then I was on my way again.

The weather has been warm and blessedly without rain. And today there was actually a short period of sun. I am doing well. I have adjusted to the sounds of the forest and am sleeping peacefully at night. I walk for about 6-7 hours a day and with the exception of a slight twist of the ankle causing me to fall off a narrow pole into a fairly deep swamp, I have been injury free. And my slow shuffle is acquiring a hint of a stride! I like it!

For the last many days I’ve been resting my bones with my very good friends, Ann and Scott. Ann is a previous dental hygienist now glass artist and Scott is a renowned Mycologist (the study of fungi). It has been a time of laughs, delicious food, restful nights and a lovely outing to Bok Tower Gardens (a lush botanical garden) where we also enjoyed a concert with a seven person jazz band.

I succumbed to their urgings (I didn’t put up much of a fight) and have stayed longer than I planned. The darn weather has just been so spicy! It has flip flopped between heavy rain and unusual cold (sometimes both at the same time) and while I packed for cool weather, I’m not equipped for nighttime temperatures of two degrees! But with my dear departed dad’s voice ringing loud in my mind to “always leave when you are still welcome to stay”, it’s time to emerge from their warm and welcoming nest. The cold front is breaking and I am heading back on the trail refreshed. I feel like a baby bird stretching my wings for the first time. It’s crazy how quickly we sink back into comfort and embrace the feeling of being protected. My gratitude to them for giving me this respite from the (literal) storm is as boundless as their generous hospitality. They are awesome and we have had a blast together but it’s time to relearn how to fly solo again in the wide open air.

Out of eight days, so far the sunshine state has delivered one day of sun, one day of gale force wind, and six days with rain. It’s been a little rough. But a couple of days ago I met some lovely people who brightened my spirits.

A couple of hikers arrived and set up their tent beside mine. Their trail names were Morpheus and Fifty-cal. I’ve never had a trail name or gotten into the hiking culture but trail names are a thing (nobody knows anybody’s real name). Anyway, Morpheus told me that a famous Appalation Trail angel (a person who helps hikers) named ‘Freshground’ was in Florida and serving breakfast to hikers the next morning in a town about five kilometres from where we were. I couldn’t believe my luck!

As I approached town, I saw people waving at me from a gazebo across a wide expanse of parkland. That must be it, I thought with excitement. It felt like years since I had eaten anything but oatmeal and ramen noodles (it was barely a week).

“Come in come in,” Freshground boomed! “Wash your hands, would you like some coffee, how about eggs? There are home fries and blueberry pancakes ready and bacon is coming right up. Help yourself. How many eggs would you like? What’s your name?” And so on. About eight hikers were there eating breakfast. As I had barely seen or spoken to anybody for almost a week it was all very overwhelming. When I left, my belly was full of deep fried bacon, I was warmed with hot tea and kindness, and I was given a trail name …Blueberry. Of course.

Other than the weather, I’m doing ok. There have been no more nightmares, the wildlife has been no problem and I’ve got my trail legs. I generally get an early start, hike around 25 kilometres and set up my tent around 4ish to beat the bugs (give or take depending on the rain).

I spent one night in a cabin to dry out my gear but the next day, within two hours of being back on the trail, I was soaked again.

This afternoon a couple of hikers passed me and told me that two storm fronts were meeting and that we would be getting slammed with even more rain. It was at the start of a 100 plus kilometre backcountry trail that would be tricky to get off. This morning I started walking before daylight trying to get warm and had already covered 27 kilometres. My tent is still leaking and a cold front is moving in. I sat down. Continuing felt like no fun, not to mention, potentially unwise. And that was it. I decided to change course.

I texted my friend Ann. She and her partner Scott have a place here in Florida and had already generously invited me to spend time with them. So that’s the new plan. I’m heading there tomorrow by train. I will let the storms pass, get my tent sorted and spend time with wonderful friends.

I’m three days in and the first word out of my mouth in the mornings is still oof!! My hiking legs (feet, shoulders, hips) haven’t arrived yet but I’m trying to do it smart and listen to my body. On day one my planned camping spot (just a covered picnic table) was still about five kilometres away when my body called it quits for the day. The ‘trail’ so far is a concrete path on a levy with a slope down to Okeechobee Lake on my right, and a slope down to a canal on my left. There was nowhere to camp so I made my way back to a canal crossing and a plantation house that I had seen in the distance.

A very stern elderly woman answered the door, with a slightly off-kilter looking (and even more stern) elderly man peering over her shoulder. A pitch fork in her hand would have completed the picture. With the brightest smile I could manage (I was invested) I complimented their outdoor Christmas decorations, introduced myself, said I was from Canada and travelling through Florida by foot and was there a corner in one of their fields where I could pitch my tent for the night. Without a hint of a smile she said in a thick southern accent, “over ba the barn”. Four words. Effusive thanks from me; she nodded, still no facial reaction, and closed the door. And that was that. But I had a place to sleep.

In the night something sticky dropped down onto my face. I started slapping and thrashing for all I was worth and didn’t stop until I realized it was the bandade I had patched a small hole in the roof with (a failed quick fix). Thank goodness I have a repair kit because each night I’m repairing a new hole. I think after this trip I will need to retire my cherished little one-man tent.

The next morning I was on my way out at first light. The groundskeeper, already outside, asked me if I knew about the coming storm. Violent winds and thunderstorms, she said. Schools were closed and everyone was advised to stay indoors and that I needed to find shelter for that night.

I found shelter in a clearing in a groove of trees outside of Cleweston. By the end of the day it was so windy I was having trouble walking.

That night I was woken by torrential rain and raindrops falling on my face. Oh man – more repairs. I shifted over and went back to sleep. I woke again sometime later screaming!! It was still pitch back. I sat bolt upright, grabbed my light to find my tent intact. There was no enormous thing bashing in through the side. My heart was pounding like a jack hammer and it took intense listening and repeated checks to convince me all was well. And it was. The rain had stopped and everything was calm. I guess when, even the subconscious, dreaming mind has experienced that degree of trauma, reality is a piece of cake. Because after that, I let the soft choo-chooing of a distant train lull me back to sleep and didn’t fret at all.

It’s been raining on and off since arriving in Florida. I saw my first sun today and it was great, not only to feel it on my face, but to charge my phone. I also saw my first alligators and a snake. I saw my first hikers; a group of three. Otherwise, so far, it’s just been me and the cranes. Here’s to a good sleep tonight.

My day yesterday started at 2:30am and finished when I finally stumbled into my small airbnb room in South Bay, Florida around 9pm and fell face first onto the bed. It was a day full of planes, trains and automobiles and many, many buses.

After landing in Fort Lauderdale, I needed to find an outdoor store to buy a knife, fuel for my stove, get a U.S. phone plan, and make my way to South Bay, the last small outpost about 100 miles away before heading onto the trail. Somewhere between buses, a kind stranger to whom I asked directions (a super cool professional fire walker and juggler/manager of Toys in Motion) offered to give me a lift to an outdoor store, helped me navigate and gave me a toy. Random acts of kindness still abound and while the day was full of tiring and tricky logistics, the help received helped soothe my nerves.

As it turns out, I’ve had more nerves than usual preceding this trip. It’s a good thing I think. Leaving the warm, safe comfort of home and heading solo into the unknown shouldn’t be taken too casually. While driving me to the airport in the small hours of the morning, my son Colin asked why I was doing this if I was nervous. I told him that I loved feeling strong and fit but getting there wasn’t generally fun or easy. And it’s is also the adventure fix that I need and love. It’s a paradox.

It’s not the out of shape part, or even the traipsing through the interior of gun-slinging, Trump-loving Florida part that concerns me the most; it’s what the little devil on my shoulder has been whispering in my ear – this is the first time in five years you will be rough camping totally alone where the wild things live, it says. You are 62 years old; you still got the horses for this!?? My answer is, I don’t know. I hope I do. When my daughter Sabrina was helping me fine-tune the trail app and my new e-reader the night before leaving we decided I shouldn’t read books called The Swamp Murderer. Makes good sense.

Judging from past experience, once I’m on the trail I love everything about it as my body and mind settle in with the solitude and flow. I’m not expecting it to happen tomorrow for sure but I’ll know soon enough. I had a good sleep last night (full of wild dreams) and am heading out shortly from here to start walking with two weeks supply of dehydrated food. As usual, I’ll keep you posted when I can with the nitty and the gritty.