Everglades National Park - Shark Valley and Gulf Islands Visitor Centers

In the morning, Shark Valley VC was crowded inside and out. Must mean it's good, right? There is a guided tram tour that I think is accessible, but the wait was a couple of hours and we nixed it. Out back leads to a boardwalk trail taking you through thick trees and swamp brush. Like the Anhinga Trail, it is solid, straight and easy-going for anyone in a chair. There was a small alcove patio where we saw a short ranger program. What can I say, I like rangers, like I like astronauts. Wholesome Wheelie.

Then we hit a paved trail that literally went for miles along a tiny canal with some water life to see. The highlight was a mother alligator and her nest of babies on the trailside, all clearly visible and only a few feet away. The Park Service recommends at least 10 feet distance from alligators and other wildlife, but this was right beside the path and you couldn't help but gape. There were at least a half-dozen little ones, really amazing.

Baby alligators there, I swear.

The trail itself was in decent shape and as wide as a street, with plenty of room for all the walkers, cyclists and strollers coming and going. The mother and baby alligators were one of the most memorable sights on the trip. Otherwise, without the tram tour we could have skipped Shark Valley. There were very cool things waiting elsewhere.

We drove to Gulf Islands Visitor Center at the northeast corner of the park, and only 10 miles from our campground, Trail Lakes Campground in Ochopee (more below). Yet here you drive US Highway 41,which if you take it all the way north, turns into Lake Shore Drive, so Chicago and the Everglades are on the same street. (Maybe that explains Chance the Snapper.) There's a 20-foot wide channel running most of the way. Its waters, tall grasses and mangrove trees were thick with waterbirds like ahinga and hurons and especially alligators that were visible to Mab even while she was driving. 41 runs through Big Cypress National Preserve, which looks like the grassy marshlands that we all think of as the Everglades. Mab thought it was funny that most of what we saw of the Everglades looked like prairie and forest. But you won't see but a fraction of it: It's a million-and-a-half acres. Along the way are dozens of tourist traps, gator shows and also the iconic airboats. You know I was scoping out those airboats! Most have bench seats or individuals seats that wouldn't offer the side support I'd need with weak upper-body strength. There were a couple with armrests that I might have been strapped into, but we didn't have the time to check them out.

From Gulf Islands VC, 90-minute boat tours leave every hour. They cost $40 and are wheelchair accessible. The concessionaire was surprised to learn that the one operating out of Flamingo Visitor Center doesn't offer accessibility. We got a few people to put in word about accessibility with the Park Service. Anyway, the crewmembers gave Mab and me the Leo and Kate I'm-the-king-of-the-world spot front and center. This part of the Everglades is called the Ten Thousand Islands. On a cloudy and breezy day we set out on a course between dozens of keys or small islands lining the southwestern coast of Florida.

Up ahead flew a bald eagle, the first we've ever seen in the wild. And then we found a pod of dolphins - or they found us. They were everywhere, including one that popped up right up below us. The ranger onboard said that dolphins are so smart and agile that they rarely get struck by vessels, they only like playing around. They were smaller and darker than their presence on the open seas, because they eat smaller fish and swim in murkier waters here. Ride was a blast.

The wind kicked up and the temperature dropped as we headed back. There were shivers on deck, but I was into it: I lowered my head into the wind and let it scratch my scalp which I can no longer itch. Anybody watching would be like, wheelchair boy's got a roly-poly head. If I had a hind leg like a dog it'd be kicking. Worth the cost of the ride alone!

Once ashore we hiked a little shoreline path through some woods to a timber observation tower - Mab needed to do some stairs! It turned out to be only three stories for $2, but it was fun watching her go after it. She doesn't mess around: you'd think there was a pot of gold at the top! On the way down she recited Juliet's monologue to Romeo watching down below. (They sure don't make Romeo's like they used to.)

Back on US-41 it's impossible to miss the Big Cypress National Preserve/Oasis Visitor Center. The huge deck along the front is lined with people, and since it's the Everglades you can guess why: there's gators aplenty in the canal just 10 feet below. A gangway of gators, shall we say, great big ones.

Here's where we also found out that dozens of panthers had already been killed on 41 in January and February alone. Drivers, slow down! By the way, we also drove an extra loop looking for sights just north of off US-41, and while we passed a few Panther Crossing signs that looked promising, we saw nothing and wasted an hour on the slow, rough gravel road. OK, have another gator:

We ended the day driving around Chokoloksy and Everglades City, a couple of small old seaside towns with a bit of history in them.

Everglades City

Trail Lakes Campground in Ochopee, FL, 239-695-2275, is a private campground, a bit rough and run down, but finding an open site this close at this time of year is something. Our site beside a tiny pond was gravel and grass, and not quite level. The Everglades mosquitoes are here in force, which makes the way you enter the toy hauler (where an entire wall flips down for a ramp) crucial. Technique: Turn out the lights for a minute or two beforehand, then drop that ramp and rocket your wheelchair inside. We were so busy and tired by the end of the day that we didn't even check for TV reception, but I think I remember a decent Verizon cell signal. (Didn't even journal it. zzzz) Nor did we make it into the Skunk Ape Museum at the camp entrance. Mr. Skunk Ape is the stanky swamp cousin of Bigfoot. There are a couple of life-sized Skunkers at the site, which I would love to have outside of my house, and there's a dinosaur too. Check-in was a little bit strange, but that was the tempo of the place. Electric, water, I don't remember if it was sewer but dump station, for the low $50's. It's not great, but the location definitely is, and here met the coolest bunch of folks of our entire trip, some of whom stay here every winter. For them we might come back.

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.

Poverty Point Reservoir State Park, LA - Big lake, big trees, big nice

1500 Poverty Point Pkwy, Delhi, LA
(318) 878-7536 Website

Such a spacious, relaxing park in the northeast corner of Louisiana near Poverty Point World Heritage Site, featuring a huge lake with boating facilities, and lots of trees creating separate camping areas, so that we had all kinds of room and privacy. Long gravel pull-through space with water and electric.

Note to self: check into these places during daylight. Because our morning routine is so long, we tend to get a late jump on travel days. Plan shorter drive days or something? Finding our way and hooking up in this place with only a flashlight was a bear.

Arrowhead Lake Campground & Rec Center, IL - Lovely lake and trail, good times

1600 Peterson Ave, Johnston City, Illinois Website

The highlight at this campground off of I-57 in Southern Illinois is the lovely natural lake, that you can hike around on a wooded trail. It starts with a half-mile of gravel that is wheelchair-friendly. Then it climbs and at that point the park signs prohibit wheelchairs. Lucky me, I've got a great Mab who doesn't think twice about driving my wheelchair from the side. I can tell you it's a rare skill, walking and driving a wheelchair at the same time (while she's chewing gum!), and she rocks it, so we plowed ahead. The trail is in good shape - I think it was dirt and the beginning of fall leaves but I don't remember because I didn't write this up immediately - and we did the distance together without a problem. Great walk, and the longest I've been on for years.

Not a large campground, there were a few pull-throughs like ours available, small, paved, adequate but with plenty of distance from the others. Full hookup and water, with a dumping station near the entrance. Illinois has got a fabulous deal for seniors who are residents. We ended up paying $17, maybe less.

Near the entrance there's a cool little clubhouse and porch where the long-term campers hang out. It was fun trading stories and jawing with them. And in the morning waking up to the morning sun on a stand of trees across the field from us: I think I'm liking this camping vibe. We'll be coming back to Arrowhead Lake.

Huntsville State Park, TX - Love these nature sounds

565 Park Road 40 West, Huntsville, TX
(936) 295-5644 Website

Pulled in Thursday afternoon and got a paved drive-through spot with water and electric for $39. The park includes a dumping space. Fridays and Saturdays are typically booked.

Our assigned pull-through spot was number 14, but its grade would have made a steep incline for my wheelchair getting in and out of the toy hauler ramp. We called to request the next spot, 15, that looked more level. Not a problem.

The pavement has a drop-off of 4-5 inches, so you have to watch when you're lowering your lift or going around the site.

There is a Texas state parks annual membership that costs $60, or $30 if you're over 65 and a Texas resident, and it gets you into all the Texas parks. Plus it will take $14 off the entrance fee here.

Our site overlooked the lake but we couldn't see any alligators. My favorite was watching the sun setting in the trees on the other side of the lake, and hearing the sounds of wildlife, bird calls mostly, on the lake.