These last five weeks have been quite an adventure! It was a mix of challenging weather, altering course, great times with friends, treasured solitude, and through it all, forcing this old horse to keep putting one foot in front of the other, mile after mile, even when she didn’t want to.

I decided that, before flying home, I wanted a couple of days rest and, more importantly, a shower. So here I am in a Fort Lauderdale hostel, all clean and spiffed up in my black merino longs (that’s my sleeping gear) and my brushed cotton flowy purple skirt. My hiking clothes are safely stowed in a biohazard bag and I feel ready for the ritz. Everything is so relative!

I walked from Key West to Key Largo catching glimpses into the lives of seafaring folk fishing from bridges and fixing their boats. Most business’s in the Keys are nautically related in the form of resorts, marinas, seafood restaurants and dermatology offices. Mansions and manicured lawns of the rich and beautiful filled a lot of the other spaces, all against the stunning backdrop of the ocean.

Eventually my life as a good little troll sleeping under bridges didn’t work for me anymore. The shores became rocky and the space became a wind tunnel. One night the wind was so fierce it pressed my tent hard against my face the entire night and I fretted briefly that I was going to be blown out to sea, but all was well. Except that it literally ripped the fabric of my tent. And so I have finally, sadly, retired Big Agnes.

Stealth camping in the open air was lovely. The stars were bright and the weather was kind. I found good spots where I was sheltered from view and felt secure. If anything, it was easier than sleeping in the tent. Mind you, the weather cooperated, there were few mosquitoes and of course, I stayed out of the undergrowth.

I had only ever associated Florida with busy coastline and Orlando tourism but there is a whole different world in the interior. It is full of lush horse country, diverse wetlands and wildlife that most people don’t see. And with the exception of one back woods road section of the trail where I was primed to run at the slightest hint of banjo music, I felt comfortable and safe.

Tomorrow night I will fly home for a couple weeks before setting off on the second leg of my winter wandering. And to answer my own question – do I still have the horses for this particular type of travel? My answer is, I guess I do. I’ve always been more of a work horse than a thoroughbred. The old girl is a bit lame and definitely past her prime, but she ain’t ready for the glue factory yet.