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.