Cedar Hills State Park: the Forest by the City ... n ANTS!

1570 West FM 1382, Cedar Hill, TX (18 mi. from downtown Dallas)

972-291-3900, Cust serv: 512-389-8900, Website

Site 124, Loop H

Woods and lake 20 min. from downtown

Upfront, this park is overrun by invasive Argentina ants. They are small, an eighth of an inch, and seemed pretty harmless, although Texas Parks and Wildlife warns they could mess with your electrical system. TPW is upfront about them and gives guidance how to protect you and your vehicles.

Not this kind of ant

The ant hordes are for real! We brought along insecticide. Mab sprayed down all contact points with the ground (wheels, jacks, connections and the undercarriage). She did this a couple of times. So we did everything TPW said to do. Yet by evening, we were overrun. It turns out the heavy afternoon rainshower had washed the bug spray off of the water hose and electrical hookup (we were preoccupied with a different drama: a broken skylight cover leaking) and the ants seized their opportunity.

Exhausted, we kept it together for the night. Once we left, a day of spraying knocked out 99 percent of them. So, whew, it was a happy ending.

Lesson learned: take the warnings seriously (we did) and remember to respray after rainstorms. TPW ought to plainly state that. Writing the letter now.

Still here? Here is the rest of my writeup, pre-ant:

        The first stop on our trip.

We got out hours before Hurricane Laura: one of its rain bands had already reached up to us from 400 miles away. A few hours later, we pulled into Cedar Hills Park on another Texas scorcher, 110° heat index. Just being in a state park at least puts your mind in a cooler state. True to the name, lush cedar trees are everywhere, one of my favorites. Red and gold sunsets over the lake were visible from our trailer. Also Jupiter passing above the moon. There are five hiking trails here, of all skill levels. One is an easy two-thirds of a mile, described as family-friendly, that I never got to check out. Busy guy.

Site 124, Loop H, is an ADA site 50 feet deep, level concrete, and plenty wide for clearance all around. Electric, water. Dump station in the park. Verizon and T-Mobile good signals. At the back, privacy and a covered picnic table that's wheelchair accessible. Fire pit. Lots of space between sites. Steep drop-offs from one side of the pad. At the front, a crack across one side of the pad could be a problem for some wheelchairs, and same for a slight lip where the pad joins the trail road. Bathrooms and showers right next door. 

Mab's hikes campgroup

Lakeshore (inaccessible)

Throughout this trip I kept thinking about my grandparents. I was seeing things they never did. As refugees they saw plenty of Europe, but mostly stayed put where they settled in the American Midwest. One of my grandfathers visited the Pacific Northwest. Decades later we bought him a monkey puzzle tree like he saw there, and he planted it in Michigan. My grandmother went with us on a fantastic roadtrip to Arizona. But most likely they didn't see any of what I was seeing. I look through their eyes, and they see through mine. I have their DNA after all, and some of their inherited consciousness and sensibility. It's their grit and vision that got me here, after all. So I am seeing for them, with them. I like it that way better. We all would enjoy this trip.

Nearby flight museum crammed with planes, Frontiers of Flight

and messylicious vegan eats, Spiral Diner

Myakka River State Park - the best of FLA

(7 mi. east of I-75 on Atlantic coast, 12 mi. SE of Sarasota)

13208 State Rd. 72, Sarasota FL, 941-361-5511

Myakka River State Park Website 

As of July 1, 2020, some but not all amenities are open at this park. Call before visiting 941-361-5511.

Heading south from St. Petersburg on the way to surprise the parents in Labelle, Myakka River State Park is my favorite of Florida's gorgeous state parks. The wilds and the camping facilities here are a pleasure. Business first: the roads of the campground and campsite number 84 are well-paved and spacious all around, back-in, with water, electric and sewer, plus grill, fire pit and sun, shade and some privacy behind trees. Next-door was a nice, clean shower facility with I think laundry. All the facilities were top-notch. Because we had to stop for a new battery in Port Charlotte (a story that will definitely be told) we arrived at night. We're still getting the timing thing down. But no matter, the cool campground host helped us back into the spot (another thing we're still learning).

Next day, Mab took a walk that ended up being a 5K because the park road and the park itself stretch for miles. The entire park is 58 square miles. Along the way she spotted gators. Later we went along the large accessible birdwalk, beautifully built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s, overlooking the river floodplain (looks like a lake) to see the sunset as well as waterbirds and nearby wild hogs. Make sure you check out the website, because there's a lot to do that we didn't even touch, like water activities, wheelchair-accessible wildlife tours by boat and tram, and a canopy walkway above the treetops.

Great moment that night: at the end of the day we went to unwind at a ranger program of Florida tall tales. It was held in a small cabin built by the CCC, so all around was tight, superb woodwork. The guys were goosenecking through the whole program, wanting to climb up there and eat the wood or something. A ranger and a volunteer read Dave Barry and other Florida writers.

Finally the volunteer got up to talk about Bertha Palmer, and Mab and I looked at one another. Earlier on a map I found a Bertha Palmer homestead located on the far side of the park, miles away. That was the name of someone we both knew of, a socialite in Chicago a century ago, who helped start a lot of the things that millions of people still enjoy today, like the museums. Potter Palmer, her husband, established the famous downtown hotel, the Palmer House. We'll check into it later, we decided.


That night, listening to the volunteer's story, it turned out to be one and the same person. Bertha Palmer was vacationing in Sarasota (I forget, but it may have been after her husband passed away) and bought some land in Florida. She started growing rubber and it turned into a big industry for the area. Eventually she donated the lands, which became Myakka River State Park. Then came the funny part. At the end they asked where everybody was from, and when we said Chicago they asked if we already knew of Bertha Palmer. Mab is modest, so I just had to tell everyone that she is an actress (retired) and on one of her jobs she researched Bertha Palmer, looks, personality, history, everything. So here was one of their visitors who actually played Bertha Palmer. What are the odds? They will never hear that one again, for sure.

Life is a lot more interesting when you get out there meeting people. Can't wait to hit the road again.

Everglades National Park - Flamingo Campground & Visitor Center

We returned from this lifetime kind of trip around the Gulf Coast right before the coronavirus spread over the nation and our minds. I'm posting this anyway as a diversion and hopefully it will help somebody months from now. This was an odyssey filled with magic moments, and we feel so lucky to have done it when we did, and when we could have. I think everyone understands by now: do the things you want to do, don't wait. - Wheelie

Park HQ: 40001 State Rd. 9336, Homestead, FL, 305-242-7700

Website: https://www.nps.gov/ever/index.htm

Accessibility Features: https://www.nps.gov/ever/planyourvisit/accessibility.htm

Park Map: https://www.nps.gov/ever/planyourvisit/maps.htm

Flamingo Visitor Center 239-695-2945

The Everglades is a massive national park in the vein of Yellowstone, with several visitor stations spread many miles apart. For instance, from our entrance at Ernest S. Coe Visitor Center some 30 miles southwest of Miami, it took an hour's drive southwest to reach Flamingo Campground inside of the park. Most of the terrain on the way looked like tallgrass prairie, not the marshes we expected after driving this way over the coastland bayous on I-10. During our stay we learned that the Everglades was the first park established not for its physical beauty but to preserve the area's plant and animal life. Its success in that regard is argued forever but I'd wager it's good it's here.

Flamingo Campground

We spent two nights in the Everglades Flamingo Campground. Pull-through, level pad, 30 amp, with water and dump station. Ours was an ADA site and easy to get around. It came with a really cool picnic table with one side extended out so that I could drive underneath. Huge site, and surprisingly not a lot of campers considering that the rest of Florida was jampacked. The campground is ringed by trees and we saw a beautiful sunset here, but of itself not much to look at. Only a few hundred yards behind us was Florida Bay, which is basically the entire submerged tip of Florida, and a few hundred yards away from that, the Flamingo Visitor Center. It's always a delight, the air is just different, staying inside a national park. I get the night-before-Disney-World flutters in my stomach!

Flamingo Visitor Center

The next morning at Flamingo VC, five minutes away, right off the bat we made the first big mark on our checklist: a hulking crocodile lay 40 feet away across the water from the visitor center. He was so large we could not even see the whole of him in the tall grass, and of course a couple of kayakers poked their noses in until someone at the center called a warning. Then right overhead in a light fixture a family of ospreys kept their nest, with the little ones just visible. Nearby on the other side of a footbridge, a large croc floated eerilt still below. Now you're reading that right: these were crocodiles, not alligators, because at Flamingo the water is saltwater. Further north and east you'll find freshwater and the alligators that the Everglades is known for. But according to a ranger, this area of the Everglades is one of the few places you can see this type of crocodile in the lower 48.

Also at the same visitor center swim the manatees. All day people tried to glimpse these shy mammals, but at 3:30 PM they really turned out and we got to see them up close. A ranger said it happens daily. The manatees surface right up to the marina looking for food, algae. Mab was the first to see one. We wondered aloud if we might, and she looked down and she and the manatee were staring eye-to-eye! Then of course the rest of us ran over and scared it away. But now there was no shortage of sightings, near and far. The rangers said they're as friendly and shy as they look. They're definitely chill. Mab just brought me a vodka and tonic as I write this up, and the olives floating around in the bubbles remind me of how the manatees would pop up and just kind of drift down again out of sight.

Flamingo VC

A big disappointment was the charter boat run by a concessionaire that was not wheelchair accessible. We never got an explanation why, but another concessionaire at Gulf Islands Visitor Center the next day was mighty surprised to hear - because they do offer accessible boat tours at Gulf Islands. At Gulf Islands there are concerns about the tide and the weather affecting the boarding of the vessel. Think you crossing a ramp between the peer and the boat, which is what this is, and the angle has to be doable. But at Gulf Islands, most of the time they get it done. We and the Gulf Islands concessionaire let park officials know our feelings.

Accessible trail along Florida Bay

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Florida Bay

Also at Flamingo we heard a talk by a ranger about gators and manatees. We could pick his brain about finding manatees and flamingos (Mrazek, below). We also enjoyed a traveling exhibit table with skull and wood specimens, as well as the knowledge and people skills of the parks worker (I don't think she was a ranger) who not only spooled out her expertise but also handled a couple of rude characters and still left smiles on everyone's faces. She just impressed me and was fun to talk to, which is a common experience with NPS staff.

Mrazek Pond

To reach Mrazek Pond was a half-hour drive. Mrazek is a unique site, the pond lined with birds, scores of them, probably hundreds, including ibises, pelicans, anhingas, egrets, turkey vultures and roseate spoonbills (flamingos). The sights and sounds filled us, and the dozen or so birders who were there in full kit (outdoor wear and chairs, photographic equipment, telescopes, video, computers, etc.), with a thrill that we did not want to end. But the afternoon was getting late.

We learned late in the day about the Anhinga Trail. It was must-see. The daylight was ticking away.

Anhinga Trail

Turns out that the trail is part of Royal Palm Visitor Center, which is all the way back a couple of miles from the park entrance at Ernest S. Coe VC. It was spontaneous: we were making this up as we went along. The drive did not seem that long, but yes, by the time we arrived it was the last minutes before dark. In that light, Royal Palm and its parking lot with spacious ADA slots looked like new, but we headed straight back to the trail, which also was in outstanding shape.

Anhinga really is must-see, especially from a wheelchair. It was a joy taking this thing, a boardwalk built just above a grassy swamp, smooth and straight and flush, with high railings for folks to lean on safely as you look all around you. When we were there the rapidly fading daylight severely compromised what we could see, so we were taking this thing pretty darned fast yet I felt nothing but secure. With the sounds and smells and sensations, it felt like we were in nature here. There were things splashing out there, animals calling, insects waking up to do the night shift. On the next night was a scheduled nighttime flashlight trail program with a ranger to show you exactly what's out there. Wish we could have done it. But we couldn't and we didn't care, we loved it anyway. Anyway, the boardwalk looked and felt new and sturdy and seemed to be built with almost a CCC-type quality, if you know what I mean. Definitely do this during the daytime though.

By the way, Off! repellent totally works. We'd heard there were mosquitos here, and that's no lie. Duh, swamp, right? Anhinga Trail was maybe the second time in my life I'd ever asked for Off! It's hard for me to wash it off, and the critters usually don't fool with me too much: if they do, they get MS. Bah! But on the Anhinga Trail at night, no, mosquitos are another kind of crazy. At least three were eating my face when Mab sprayed me. Saved! It was strange feeling them everywhere around me even if they weren't sinking their fangs. At one point Mab flicked on the mini-flashlight so we could read a sign, and we both gasped. Swirling around my head like a halo was a constellation of frenzied skeeters, trying to break through the force-field. Wow, the things we do in the dark.

And get this: as we were leaving, a minivan was unloading. It was two elderly couples, with both guys in push wheelchairs. They told us it was their second time to Anhinga, it was so good. But they didn't bring bug spray! What?

Anyway, we let them use ours, and then we drove to the camper in the dark. We were going to sleep hard. It was a great day.

Next, Shark Valley and the Ten Thousand Islands.

Live Your Someday Now

Having a good time following this family of full-time RVers. He's paraplegic and the whole family and their trip reports are very can-do and fun. They have a couple of YouTube channels. This is a man to talk to.

Meanwhile I'm writing up our latest odyssey. Just got back and we're digging out from the unfinished business while we were away. You should have seen the bundle from the post office. Hut-hut, HIKE!

But we'll get this routine down. We got to, because we're already itching to go.

Meet Moby Dick - Our accessible RV-pulling Nissan conversion

We had a vision and this year it came true.

We loved to travel yet seldom did so. That's because it's an ungodly pain in the neck.

I rely on a Hoyer lift to get in and out of bed. It's a great device, the industry standard. Basically a chromed-out engine hoist, it lifts you up in a sling and then rolls underneath the bed to deposit you down. Lots of people use them, but they are terrible to travel with because hotels can't (won't) deal with them. Virtually all hotel beds these days sit on top of box platforms, that block the lift from rolling underneath. Locating an accessible room without a platform bed, or even a hotel staffer or manager who knows whether there is a platform or not, is close to finding a needle in a haystack. Expect fighting and stress. After a while you give up trying. Travel is supposed to be fun, right?



Anyway, the solution for us is an RV. This is like bringing our own hotel room with us. Mabster retired recently, so it was time to do this.
The problem is that most wheelchair accessible vans cannot tow an RV. We were due for a new vehicle anyway, but being 6-2 in a Permobil F3 I had a hard time fitting into most of them in the first place, without even considering the RV. We looked into larger vans too, each with its own problems (i.e., giant expense, unreliable systems).

After an awful lot of homework - way more than I had ever put into any vehicle - we decided to go large. We chose a Nissan NV 3500 cargo van. The large engine's got what it takes to tow, and the cargo doorway is high enough for me to enter without playing limbo. Incredibly, we just happened to find one with only 5,000 miles on it, and it already had a wheelchair lift! (And the central console ripped out, which we were going to do anyway. GMTA.) Our eyes bugged out. Then we saw where it was: all the way across the country in Pasco, Washington. What to do?

Like the lads said, Help! I need somebody. Help! Not just anybody. Help! You know I need someone… Help!

Enter my crazy, incredible brother and his even crazier, incredibler girlfriend. She works for an airline and can fly for free. On Thanksgiving we were putting together the deal by phone, and the next day they jetted out over the Rockies. They landed right in time for our loan to come through. They swooped into the dealership, took possession of the auto freshly inspected by the fantastic guys at Perfection Tire & Auto Repair in Pasco, and left for Idaho just ahead of a snowstorm. It caught up to them in the mountains and they crawled through and all the way across icy Montana. The storm gained on them again in central Iowa (with me hovering over weather maps at my home and barking directions over the phone), so finally they pulled into a hotel. It was a mighty good move: the next morning driving through Iowa and Illinois, cars and trucks littered the roadsides like great buried toys. They stopped counting at 500.

A few hours later we were never so glad to see them, and our new vehicle. It's a white monster that was an obsession to find and an epic voyage to bring back home. So, naturally, we named it Moby Dick.

Next, the vehicle conversion begins.




In the belly of the beast

When we roll up in our cargo van, people surely roll their eyes. This Nissan NV 3500 is a whole different beast from the Chevy Venture minivan we've driven for 15 years. Especially with its 11'7" high-top roof.

But there was a method to our madness: number one, that I could roll through the cargo door with plenty of head clearance. I'm tall but not a giant, and felt incredibly let down by how few choices of converted minivans could accommodate me. These are way too expensive to be in any way uncomfortable. Anyway, item two for us was the ability to tow. Mab had a small RV in mind, and unfortunately a minivan wasn't going to cut it. So we went with the monster, Moby Dick, that fits both bills easily.



This thing really is a cargo van, built for business, with no creature comforts or windows in back.



We were really trying to yank the passenger seat and have me sit up front. The trouble was in my wheelchair that I sit up high, higher than the windows. We looked into fabricating windows at my eye level, but this didn't work. The solution lay elsewhere. On the ceiling, to be exact.



The cargo area is cavernous. Mabster walks around back there with ease. With that kind of space available, there so many possibilities. So we brainstormed with the guys at Lift-Aids in Arlington, TX. We came up with a different way to sit up front.

They fixed a sliding rail along the ceiling, equipped with a Liko-Rall lift. Now I can transfer into the passenger seat in a sling, and enjoy the same comfort, view and safety rig that everyone else takes for granted. It took some practice, but we've got the transfer down now. For trips of an hour or longer, we do the transfer. Otherwise I get strapped in the back.



Stock, the van floor was unadorned corrugated-type steel, covered by a heavy foam overlay that still made for a bumpy ride. Lift-Aids laid down a sturdy sheet of plywood covered by a layer of stick-grip vinyl. It is well-fitted and snug, vastly improving the space for a wheelchair. Great job. (Photos before and after.)

 

We'll install cargo windows when funds (and safety: still researching this) permit. You have to find the right spots to sit in. This is not a consumer vehicle, not built for comfort, so if you aren't seated and secured right, you're in for a rodeo ride. But these are the trade-offs I bought into, in order to finally travel. We have been waiting a long time for our shot. So while I can do it, let's go!

See you out there. You'll see us coming from a mile away.