Sharon Hawley

Sharon Hawley
Click on this map to open Michael Angerman's detailed map showing my current location. There, you can pan and zoom.. Thanks Michael

Thursday, February 28, 2013

End of the Road


It was bound to happen.  I feared it every day since the heavy rains that stopped me at Tallahassee and again at Chipley.  It was the talk in every country store.  Which roads are flooded?  Which bridges were damaged and closed?  It’s not something you call a number and learn.  No website lists the closures on the small country roads; your only information is word of mouth.  The county will close a bridge without notifying anybody in the form of detour signs.  You have seen my pictures of flooded roads for three days now, but none of them affected my travel because I either learned of closures from locals or I was lucky.  Today I was not lucky. 

When I came to this road closure and saw the river flowing over it and the bridge in bad shape in the distance, I was twenty miles out and apparently at a dead end.  I was discussing the situation with man who lives nearby and had come to see how high the water was.  “How deep do you think it is,” I asked.  He said about two feet.  “I can wade across then,” I said hopefully.  He said the water’s pretty cold.  I tested it with my hand and it was.  The air was about 45 degrees.

While we stood there at the edge of the known world, a pickup came from the other direction and started into the water.  I watched it inch along as water came up to near the tops of its tires.  I knew I had to try.  And you know that I made it when I say I’m in Pensacola writing about it.  My feet were cold, but I had dry socks to change into. 



Ever since I saw the white sand at Daytona Beach, I have seen it every day across Florida.  Here it is where rainwater moved it.  If you dig six inches into the forest soil, you hit white sand.  I must learn why it has not decomposed into soil over the thousands of years of forestation.








The pine forest extends as far as I can see from this and other high places.  Most of it is tree farms, planted and harvested after some twenty years.  Some is wild forest. 











An appropriately labeled wine at the end of a long day while relaxing in Pensacola.  

7 comments:

  1. What a trooper you are! You had us going for a while with that "End of the Road" post.

    We should have known you would find a way through!

    You continue to amaze us!

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  2. Wow... it makes me tired just to read your post... you must be very.
    Yes, as Pauli might have thought too... "end of the road" made us wish you were on your way home.
    At least you are having some nice red wine, like us, after I came home from a lecture you would have liked about graphene...
    Ah well, those were the days, and will come again. I am glad you are safe, with clean dry socks and will warm up now.
    It's quite amazing what we all do for "fun".
    hugs from Pasadena!

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    1. I am on my way home, barring floods and roads that abruptly end. I will spend today here in Pensacola, just for fun, then ride into Alabama tomorrow.

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  3. When caught in storms while out and about in my Florida days I've had to wade through knee deep waters to get home. Luckily my house itself seemed to be two inches in elevation higher than the surrounding houses on my street. The floods always stopped just before my property.

    You bring back old memories while entertaining me with your new memories in process.

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    1. Happy to oblige, Steven. I didn't know you're a swamp man among your other colorful histories.

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  4. So, you swam into the pool ahead with your bicycle! You're amazing.

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    1. No, I waded across the water, walking my bike. It was about two feet deep. Not really amazing.

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