Everglades City

Riding west out of Belle Glade towards Clewiston, massive Lake Okeechobee remains hidden from view behind the 10-12 foot high dike that surrounds the lake and affords flood control. The dike, but for its somewhat larger size, resembles a raised railroad bed.

North of Clewiston, I road atop the dike expecting to see the Lake clearly visible; it was, but not like I had expected. Instead there were what appeared to be miles of river canals before one would be able to say that they were truly on the lake. Astride my Harley, I would never be afforded that view.

A short distance west of Clewiston, the sugerlands disappeared as I turned south, passing west of Big Cypress National Preserve and arrived in Everglades City just as the sun began to set. There was little time for anything, save a quick photo shot of the setting sun, before my mission turned to finding a motel. A campsite would have been preferred, of course, but having passed several - Panther Crossing - signs and knowing that "gators" lived here too, I questioned the wisdom camping in the Everglades. Too much television, I am sure!

Nonetheless, I told myself (correctly), that there was too little time to begin a search for a campsite at this hour. The motel would clearly blow my make shift budget, but the choice had already been made.

Quaint isn't the apt description for Everglades City, but it perhaps comes closer than any other word that comes to mind. It certainly is a peaceful and pleasant little city (at least at this time of year), but it would be a stretch of the definition to say it is - "strange in an interesting way." There is just something about the city that I really like; perhaps, it is the slower pace and peaceful atmosphere. If that was, in fact, the attraction, I realized that it would very likely wear off rather quickly.

For all of its virtues, Everglades City, is relatively speaking, quite expensive. It was already clear to me that the City was not a place where one could easily conserve dollars. There was a limited set of options available in the small community and, therefore, I was forced take what was there.

Later that evening, in a nearby restaurant, as I set out to further blow my budget, I was engaged in conversation with one of the local residents. Robbie Kennedy, advise me that the road out of Everglades city ended quite abruptly, just five miles to the south. (I knew that with the "end of the road" so close at hand, that I would surely make the short excursion}.

Before the evening was concluded Robbie informed me that he worked for the nearby alligator farm and invited me to visit the "gator" farm, which was right along my scheduled route of travel to Key West (that too, became a part of my next day's agenda.)

The nest day, as intended I rode the five mile long causeway to Chokoloskee, the southern most point of highway on the Gulf side of the state of Florida. The causeway separates the Everglades from Chokoloskee Bay and together with Everglades City provides another point of access to Florida's 10,000 Islands and the angler's paradise for Tarpon, Snook, Redfish and more.

Chokoloskee appears to be composed of mostly prominently of mobile homes and RV Parks. The 2000 census recorded 404 residents for Chokoloskee, as compared to 479 for Everglades City (although Everglade City certainly appears to have a larger business base.)

Before departing the area, I made a final stop to see the alligators and Robbie Kennedy. Robbie greeted me amicably and led me along the boardwalk past a large Florida crocodile, a Florida Panther and even a Bengal Tiger (an unwanted refugee from an American Zoo.)

Robbie had told me that there were more that 80 gators caged in the "pond," but I wasn't prepared for what the royal reception we received as we approach the cage. The sound and sight of a cage full of "bellowing gators" with their huge gapping mouths raised skyward like howling wolves or bugling elk, was a sight and sound that I won't soon forget (I, in fact, never even new that alligators "bellowed" at all.)

My first thought was that the "gators" were somehow intimidated by our presence (yea, right), but Robbie informed me that they were in fact "forecasting" the weather. At the time the barometric pressure was dropping fast as a weather of threatening showers was advancing from the west. They are, Robbie proclaimed, "our best weather forecasters."

My thanks to Robbie Kennedy for a great experience.