A bit of fun research leads to a ride?

I am, at the core of my being, a researcher.  Give me something odd, something unusual and let me sink my teeth into it.  I have a deep love of learning, a deep love of history, of wanting to know something new.

An old haunted house on a old haunted road

This discussion started at work because we were talking about ghosts and ghost towns.  How a friend of mine lives within a block of the May - Stringer House in Brooksville, Florida - it also turned to the racism there but this in not the forum for that.  I've also written a bit about Brooksville in the past.

When Susan and I visited the caves in the panhandle of Florida not that long ago we drove down a side road to see what was in a small town with a funny sounding name...sadly I don't remember it now...but it was one of those "end of the road towns" where their is only one way in and out.  I remembered thinking at the time, that could be a fun experience to drive this road on Kimmie.

"What" you may ask, "is Robert on about now?"

I started researching end of the road towns and ghost towns....and I found one.  I found one within riding distance.  I found one that checked all the boxes for me.  Their was a navel raid on the city of Bayport which resulted in a Confederate victory.  The town would later play a part in the Brooksville raid as well, when it served as a loading area for retreating Union troops.  Despite being the better known of the two, the raid of Brooksville was nothing more than a skirmish, there was never a full pitched battle like their was in Bayport.

An old naval map showing ship locations

History however remembers Brooksville due to it's larger population, while Bayport faded not only from history but from the map itself.  In fact, I recovered evidence of at least five pitched navel raids and battles in Bayport as Confederate Blockade runners tried to slip by Union Navel ships.

I never really thought about it before I started researching this ride.  The South was desperate for goods and parts, the blockade runners could make a small fortune if their ships got through the blockade, and many did.  A smaller port like Bayport served their needs well. 

Today all that remains is a old park with a historic sign.

Yes, I think a ride is due soon.  You have to honor the past...even if you just learned about it.

While riding just to ride is a wonderful way to spend the day...I'm happiest when I have a destination in mind, someplace to go, to see...that is what makes riding so fun for me.   Now if only this rainy weather would break so I can actually go!

Roadside attractions and swamp buggies

Susan and I wanted to get away during the July 4th weekend.  We were not sure what we would do or where we would go, but she wanted to do something different and I am always up for an adventure.   After all, experiences are what create memories.

When our local news station did a little show on Swamp Buggies we both said "done."  These are often found in the Everglades and at one time were considered essential in the state of Florida since they were they only means of transportation in areas were there were no roads. 

Ochopee, Florida (pronounced exactly like it sounds) is home to the worlds smallest post office, the skunk ape research center and Wooten's swamp buggies and air boat tours which we decided would be our destination.  As it so happened we were the only two people on our particular buggy.

Our ride was actually pretty sedate, you enter one section and plow through about 3 to 4 feet of water before getting onto to dry land.  Where your exposed to the nature of the area, some local wildlife and a bit of local history.  Ochopee it seems was a moonshiners paradise at one time, as Al Capone had a casino in Miami at the time.

Two female deer showed no fear of the buggy and since Sue and I were the only ones on the Buggy, we were within 10 feet of them at times.  A curious raccoon also seemed interested in visiting us as he walked in front of the slow moving buggy at times.

A friendly grasshopper.

Of course if I'm this close to a national monument I had to go and see it.   Up the road a few miles was the world's smallest post office.

Legend has it that the swampland around Ochopee is home to a giant ape like creature, who differs from Bigfoot, a likely cousin, is several ways.  The biggest way in that this ape supposedly stinks; and stinks badly.  Giving him the name of "Skunk Ape."

Now never mind the fact that the only people that have supposedly seen the Skunk Ape work at the Skunk Ape research Center and Gift Shop.  I'm sure that is just a coincidence and  has nothing to do with gullible tourists.

I'm sure that these guys are legit Skunk Ape hunters.  I mean they have a jeep and everything, and nothing says "I'm serious about a fictional animal." like a jeep.

Besides just look at some of the evidence they found in all their years of research.  You can't argue with the evidence.

Sue and I enjoyed the weekend away, although we really didn't plan it well.  We left on a Saturday afternoon and had our little adventure on Sunday morning.  Next time I think we will leave on a Friday night and spend the full weekend in the Naples, Florida area.  Their seems to be a lot to do and see in that area.  Of course, more pics are on my Facebook page.

Happy July 4th weekend to all my American readers.  
  

Why don't I want to ride more?

This past weekend was lovely.  It was warm and sunny with a near zero chance of rain, the humidity; always a killer here in Florida, was manageable.

It's Monday morning as I write this.  The day is going to be warm, a tad humid but again something manageable.  There is a slight chance of rain (15%) around 2 PM but I'll be at work then.  Nice and safe in my office and Kimmie will be tucked into her safe parking spot that is reserved for motorcycles only.  Protected by an old oak tree with leaves as big as my open hand.

Sounds like a perfect day to ride in.

Only I don't want to.

In fact, I've toyed with the idea of selling her.

I started this blog way back on August 23rd, 2011.  I'm come a long way in that five years.  I've put on a lot of miles and have undergone two nasty accidents.  I've almost been hit, I've almost gone down when a animal committed suicide under my tires.  I've avoid a deer so close that I could have reached out and touched it.

I've also seen wonders.  Gone down country roads with a song in my heart.  I've watched sunsets and sun rises through my visor.  I've stretched out my arms on my bike and went "WHOSH" like a little child.  I've felt like a little child.  I've made new friends via riding.

So why don't I want to ride?

I used to put ten, twelve thousand miles on my bike per year.  Due to circumstances the last two years my time in the saddle has been a lot lower than that.   Lack of riding?  Could that be the cause of my apathy?  I know that most of the riding I do is simple commuting, and that doing it by car allows me to enjoy my morning Duncan Donuts and coffee while listening to NPR.  Something that is impossible on my Kimmie.

As we near the end of 2015 I look back and think about all the time lost due to Sue's ongoing medical issues...she is the primary motivator in my life and frankly I'm not sure what I would do without her.  She does and always will come first.

Thankfully things seem to be looking up on that front.  Also for most of 2014 and 2015 I've been chasing mechanical issues as many long time readers know.

So many that I've played with the idea of getting a new bike.  Still though....would I ride if I did?  Besides, now is not the time for a new bike.  Sue's health concerns come first.  Plus, I've about 3 more years to go and I'll be in a much better spot financially (both cars will be paid off in full) and then I can play with the idea of taking on new debt.

In a few minutes I'll be going to work.  I will be riding Kimmie.  I know that the highway is out of the question today as there was a nasty accident that has traffic backed up for miles.  I know that I have to leave a little earlier than usual.  I know that I will crave my Duncan Donuts coffee.  I think, feel, that if I'm going to recapture that magic that I once felt I need to get back on the bike.

I need to ride more again.  I also know that I have a long ride planned for Saturday, so we will see how that goes.

Exploring Brooksville - a pretty place with a racist history

It's your typical Summer weather pattern here in Florida, the rain was moving in off the Gulf coast and again I had to decide if riding was worth it.  The TV news blabbing about a 60 to 70% chance of rain.  Weather.com broke that chance down even further for me.  I could stay dry if I moved my ass and had a little luck.  If I was going to do this today, it would not be on Kimmie sadly.

My destination was Brooksville, Fl which lies about an hour north of me in Hernando county.  The roads in the area are twisty, the county is mostly rural which makes it one of the more popular destinations for riders in the area.  It has an annual Blueberry Festival in April that celebrates the area's agricultural roots.  I also learned that is also the geographical center of Florida although I could not find the exact spot anywhere on the map.

Confederate statue outside the courthouse.

It's a pretty city with roots dating back nearly 150 years.  It also has a violent racist history which sickened and interested me at the same time.  Brooksville was named in 1856 after Preston Brooks, a South Carolina Congressman whose claim to fame in the history books is that he beat a anti - slavery congressman with a cane on the Senate floor.  An act that may have indirectly lead to the Civil War. 
It also has a history of lynchings, of intolerance and trials.  

So here I am, riding a hour or so north to visit the courthouse.  To learn about how a deadly feud could erupt over interracial marriage (at a time when such things were simply not done), how the courthouse could "mysteriously" catch fire and destroy the evidence of the lynching that followed the death of a black Minister and former county commissioner.   How, for a brief time this county was lawless and filled with vigilantes called "regulators."

One of the old oaks dating back a few hundred years.

How a county of only 4,000 people at that time would have over 40 murders, many of which are still considered unsolved.  Many of the murders were related to race, but also included the death of a sheriff and two judges.  One of the area's sheriff's, W. D. Cobb, was even accused of killing two white men, one of whom was involved in a crime that Cobb supposedly took part in.  How and why this happened interested me although I still don't have an answer.

Two hotels were burned down during this period and house fires were common.  Even after justice was restored, Hernando county had the highest incidence of lynchings between 1900 and 1930, possibly second only to the entire state of Mississippi.  However those numbers are hard to come across, and frankly I'm not sure I want to.  

Brooksville still has racial tensions, brought to the surface recently by the Confederate flag controversy but also by the vandalization of a historic black cemetery, which according to local legend and myth; you can still see the body of a lynched man at night.  Or sometimes hear the screams of a baby.  Entering town there was a business proudly displaying Confederate items.  History they say, repeats itself.

May - Stringer House

How this town could have so many Confederate moments yet not one that even mentioned Brooksville African American community?  If they did, then I was unaware of it.  History moves on and in this pretty town it's hard to believe such things happened in the time of our great grandparents.  We have come so far in such a brief time, but at the same time we have so much further to go.  So here I am, looking for historic sites and information on this dark period of history. Then I'm reminded that I'm living in a dark time, as a Confederate flag burning was recently attempted in Brooksville.  It did not turn ugly but had the potential to, the pro flag side outnumbered the anti flag side and cooler heads prevailed.

Living in Florida it is easy to forgot that despite all the sunlight and natural beauty, that darkness still lurks.  That ugly things still hide in the shadows.  

In a way I wish the weather would have held off for me a little while longer.   The groundskeeper at the May - Stringer house was telling me about his ghost sightings.  I was hoping to visit the rail station and one room school.  The African - American cemetery was on my list.  It was to wet, to nasty...I was lucky to get the time I did to look about.  Frankly though...I'm not sure I go back.  You can't go in reverse, only forward.

Me, the South and that damned Stars and Bars

I try to keep my personal politics out of this blog.  I'm a liberal and a dyed in the wool Democrat although I joined the Green Party back in 1996 because I didn't like my parties candidate.  I found the Greens to be a little in line with where I was politically.

Personally I have no "dog in the fight" in the debate regarding the Confederate flag.  I grew up in the north and the "Rebel" flag was something that that hung in dorm rooms or was associated more with fans of Lynyrd Skynyrd than anything racial.  Sure it was used by the KKK and other hate groups, I knew that...but my friends and I all went to colleges were we were exposed to different cultures and ideas and then went to work in diverse work places.  We all knew Jews, Blacks, Homosexuals and other minorities.  We may have had different thoughts on where this country went right or wrong (and still do) but the debates were mostly friendly.  The flag simply was not part of our heritage for good or ill.

Florida quietly removed the Confederate flag from it's government buildings, parks and memorials long before I moved here.  You still see it flying on private property but generally speaking, with one notable exception, it's not very prominent.  At least here in the Tampa/St Petersburg/Orlando area.

So why write about it now?  Because frankly I have mixed feelings about it and putting things down on paper is one of the ways I work out my feelings.

I've been doing a lot of reading about the flag, being the news junkie that I am.  Case in point, I did not know that most state flags did not include any Confederate symbolism until the late 1950's or early 1960's and that was done mostly as a reaction to the growing Civil Rights movement and the perceived interference in "States Rights" by the Federal government  Many states in fact tried to enacting laws to sidestep the Federal courts when it came to Civil Rights.  Many of these same states are trying to enact laws to sidestep the recent court decisions on Gay Marriage.   It's a fight they are going to lose but the same tired arguments are being raised again.

I've also been planning a ride to historic Brooksville - which was named after infamous Preston Brooks - a man who won fame for attacking fellow Congressman Charles Sumner with a cane; who at the time was making an anti-slavery speech.   The beating of Sumner may have lead indirectly to the Civil War.  Interestingly enough, it's not mentioned on the town's website.

The more I read about Brooksville and its violent past, the more it sickened and intrigued me.  More on that in upcoming episodes of this blog I promise.  If the weather ever cooperates with me (I was rained on consistency for two days straight).

I guess I just don't truly understand how a man with a different skin color should be treated as a second class citizen.  Not I'm not a saint.  There are neighborhoods where the windows are up and the car doors locked because of a perceived or very real threat.  I've quickened my pace at times.  Generally speaking though, I try to follow the Golden rule.  I've also witnessed the so called "Driving while Black" phenomenon first hand...and had the white officer look me square in the eye ignoring my black friend behind the wheel and ask me with a straight face if I needed help.  I like to think this would not happen in my hometown my Pittsburgh, but I know it would.

To a certain extent I understand why many see the flag as a racist symbol.   Years ago I was in a country called Kazakhstan, which was part of the old Soviet Union.   What struck me as odd was in the center of a square there was a huge statue dedicated to the thousands of Kazak soldiers that lost there lives fighting for the Soviets during World War Two.  The stone faces were European.   Kazakhstan is mostly a mixture of Asian and Middle Eastern faces.

It was explained to me that many Kazaks died during that war, but they never received recognition...it was always the Russians.  A case of the powerful keeping the weak down.  The Confederate flag is no different.  It's just another symbol.  A symbol that for some does the same thing.

Truly I understand why some see it as "Heritage".  Our history is full of people that kept Native American traditions alive despite attempts to "civilize" them.  World history is full of similar examples...and where one tradition could not be replaced, it was assimilated.  To many, the flag is a symbol of their ancestors who fought and died for seemingly lofty goals and for that reason alone it's worth saving and celebrating.    For many it's a sign of rebellion, of the little guy standing up to the big guy.  On that I agree.

Was the Civil War about state rights?  Yes.  However to deny that part of the state rights movement at the time was the right to enslave another is rewriting history.  Living in 2015 I can not think like a soldier in the early 1860's, willing to die for either side and I know there were many who fought for the Confederacy who did not own slaves, or disagreed with slavery.  Still they fought for a ideal and in my personal family history, we have soldiers on both sides.

I've lived in the South in one form or another for nearly 20 years.  It's changing.  It's slow but it's coming.  Removing the flag is just part of that change. Sure it's part of the Southern culture and heritage just as much as sweet tea and grits but in the end it's got to come down.  The south is going to have to grow up and move out of the past, and part of that growing is accepting that the argument(s) to keep the flag just does not hold water.

Exploring Plant City - Part two

Once upon a time I worked on Saturday's but with the change of scenery comes certain perks.  Like weekends off, working day light and better pay.  Honestly Sue and I have been under each others toes for the past month or so.  I've spent the greater part of the month in classes and unsure of what my future held.

I have been doing longer rides as of late but when this Saturday rolled along we decided to spend it together and just do something different.  A food truck rally was discussed.  Going to a Rowdies game was discussed, but in the end we decided to check out a local train museum   Where as the panhandle and eastern seaboard of Florida were always well populated, the center and west coast owes a great debt to the railroads.  Frankly, without the rails, most of Florida would still be cattle land and swamps.

The Robert W. Willaford Railroad Museum is open to the public at no cost and sits in the historic downtown area of Plant City.  In all honestly it's small, but packed with train and railroad memorabilia, mostly from one private collector.    What is truly amazing to me is that nearly all of the equipment and other memorabilia, was at one time actually used on the railroads.  In other words, the caboose was not a replica, but one of only 7 left in the country and here I was climbing around in like a little boy with a big smile on my face.

I've often wondered what the caboose was like in side, and it contained everything that you would need for a comfortable trip, desks, beds, bathroom, a stove and sink.  Even a simple refrigerator.  A RV on rails.

Speaking of being on rails.  I've no idea if Honda actually made this or if it was somehow converted to a particular task.

Sue collects old cases and luggage, so her eyes lit up

The detail on some of the artwork was amazing.  Notice the watch and ring for example.

Sue and I had decided to drive up instead of taking the bike and I'm glad we did.  Summer in Florida tends to be sunny, hot and humid.  After looking over a bit more of the museum we decided to cross the street to visit the Whistle Stop Cafe, famed for their 5 cent cherry smash (or cherry syrup in seltzer).  It was surprisingly light and refreshing and the rest of the meal was just delightful.  Homemade soup and bread which left us licking the bowls and wanting more.  

The roof is meant to look distressed.

Every where Sue and I turned there seemed to be some interesting piece of history (and readers of this blog know I love my history) or unusual find.   A brief ride up the road and we found the Shiloh Cemetery, originally established in 1810 but part of the city since 1884.   Some of the stones appeared to be in disrepair but  the city seems to be reclaiming part of the cemetery and saving some of the history.  

This being Florida we were not surprised to see cows grazing not far from the tombstones.  All in all it was a good day to be out and about.  Now...about those food trucks.  "Honey?  You hungry yet?"