Let's Go to Florida!

From South Beach to the Seven Mile Bridge: An Idahoan’s Journey Through the Keys

The Andersons pulled up at 1:30 a.m., which is a time of day I normally reserve for sleeping or regretting late‑night snacks. But off we went, bleary‑eyed, to the Spokane Park‑n‑Ride and then on to the airport. Security was smooth for most of us — except Linda, who apparently didn’t make the TSA’s Preferred Human List that morning. She got the full “please remove everything you’ve ever owned” treatment, but she handled it like a champ.

Two flights later — Spokane to Portland, Portland to Miami — we arrived in Florida feeling exactly like people who had been awake for a week. The flights were long, boring, and mildly uncomfortable, which is to say: perfectly normal.

South Beach: Art Deco, Estefan Style

Our first two nights were spent at the Hotel Cardozo on South Beach, a beautifully restored Art Deco landmark owned by Gloria Estefan herself. The building dates back to 1939, and like many of the pastel beauties along Ocean Drive, it’s part of the largest concentration of Art Deco architecture in the world.

The room was… minimalist. Stark. Cold. And there wasn’t a single picture or bit of décor on the walls whatsoever. But it was clean, stylish, and perfect for two nights.

We wandered South Beach, people‑watching and marveling at the outfits. Idahoans are not built for this level of fashion risk. I’m pretty sure some of the swimsuits we saw were held together by hope and dental floss.

Our two‑day adventure in South Beach was packed with fun, food, and more people‑watching than any of us were prepared for. On our last night, dinner revived us, and then we collapsed into bed and faded into dreamland.

The Great Rental Car Saga

The next morning our Uber driver delivered us to the Mex Car Rentals lot. Mike had taken the recommendation of an internet vacation discount site and Mex Car was the one provided by his research. Arriving at Mex, Mike was leery about the rental service when he was directed into a cubicle and was greeted by a very hard‑to‑understand video image of a woman who desperately wanted to rent us a car. Things did not go well, and the final straw was when the woman told Mike he needed to provide a $2500 deposit. For a car. Not to buy it — just to borrow it.

By 1:00 p.m., we were at Avis, enjoying air‑conditioning and chairs that didn’t leave imprints on our backsides. Mike and Rayelle returned triumphantly with keys to a brand‑new Chevy Traverse. We trekked from Level 4 to Level 2 because the escalators were broken and the elevators were packed. When we finally reached spot A18… no car. Eventually Mike found it in H18, which is basically the same thing if you’re dyslexic or optimistic.

On to the Keys

Our first stop was Alabama Jack’s, a legendary open‑air bar perched on the edge of the mangroves. It’s been around since the 1950s and is famous for conch fritters, cold beer, and the kind of characters who look like they’ve been there since the late ’60s. We took photos and moved on before we became part of the décor.

Next up: Betsy the Lobster, a 30‑foot fiberglass crustacean guarding the Rain Barrel Village in Islamorada.

At Robbie’s Marina, we watched brave (or foolish) tourists feed tarpon — giant, prehistoric‑looking fish that can grow to 8 feet long. One guy tried to be cool for his kids and walked away with a bloody hand and shaken nerves. At the entry gate, a kid got ambushed by pelicans who had clearly perfected this attack over many seasons. Bait fish flew everywhere and disappeared off the dock in seconds.

We then made our way to our VRBO rental in Marathon — a four‑bedroom, three‑bath home with a big, comfortable living space, a well‑equipped kitchen, and a backyard pool overlooking a peaceful boating canal. It became our home base for sunning, relaxing, talking politics, solving silly issues, and planning future adventures.

Fishing, Beaches, and Weather That Couldn’t Decide

Monday was fishing day, so we drove north to Islamorada where Mike, Ron and I met our guide, Juan. The weather was windy and scattered showers moved across the sky. Juan took us out to net our live bait, and then we hung on for our lives as he weaved us through the mangroves at 35 mph. When the rain caught us, we ducked under the highway bridge and fished the currents.

Snapper were caught by all of us, but I got lucky and hooked a 36‑inch snook — a once‑in‑a‑lifer, according to Juan.

The ladies spent their day at Sombrero Beach, which was windy and rainy but still beautiful.

The four ladies had a delicious lunch at Herbie’s which included clam chowder (Linda gave it a 7, Julia an 8), conch fritters, conch chowder, and wings.

That night we cooked half the fish we caught and ate like responsible anglers.

Some day I'll get a photo
with the top of my head in it!

A Manatee Named Grace

The next day I stayed home while the group went to a farmers market. Linda returned with a beach towel and treats.

Later, while everyone was gathered by the pool, one of our top bucket‑list hopes appeared: a manatee. She heard the spray from the hose and glided over like a gentle gray submarine. She stayed for about 20 minutes, drinking fresh water and washing her face while the ladies gave her a spa treatment.

We named her Grace, because she moved with it.

Seven Mile Bridge, Fred the Tree, and Key Deer

The next day we took our big drive south. We crossed the Seven Mile Bridge, spotted Fred the Tree growing stubbornly out of concrete, and visited Big Pine Key, home of the tiny, adorable Key deer.

Key West: The Grand Finale

In Key West we walked Duval Street, visited Mallory Square, and stopped at Margaritaville for shirts. Dinner at Harpoon Harry’s was excellent. We visited the Southernmost Point Buoy, which is neither the actual southernmost point nor a buoy, but it’s iconic and makes for a great photo.

Mike did a great job driving us back to our cottage. We appreciate all the driving he did on this adventure.

Fred the Tree!

A Big Pine Key, Key Deer.

Welcome to Key West!

The southernmost point buoy 
That is not at the southernmost point.

A Quiet Friday and a Grateful Goodbye

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It was Friday, and we spent an easy, relaxing day around the pool — packing a little, visiting, laughing, and heading out for one last meal together before the evening settled in. It was the kind of slow, gentle day that lets a great trip sink in

As we settled in for our last evening, I couldn’t help but feel grateful — for the laughter, the surprises, the weather that kept us guessing, and the good friends who make every mile of the journey worth taking. It had been a week of stories, sunshine, unexpected moments, and the kind of shared experiences that stay with you long after the suitcases are unpacked.

A special thanks to the Andersons, Sharon, and Ron for making this trip so memorable — their laughter, energy, and good company turned every day into something worth remembering.

DB/AI

Red Alert in Melaque

 I wasn’t sure if you’ve been following the news, but things have taken a serious turn here in our corner of Mexico. A cartel leader living in Puerto Vallarta was killed in a government operation, and the fallout reached all the way down to our area. In response, the cartel blocked the roads going into and out of Melaque and Barra, as well as the routes leading to the airport in Manzanillo.

The Mexican government issued a red alert and asked everyone to shelter in place for at least three days. All of Jalisco went into lockdown. Airports in Manzanillo, Puerto Vallarta, and Guadalajara shut down, and every flight was canceled.

The bridge out of Cihuatlán — the only way to get to Manzanillo and the airport from this direction — was blocked as well. We heard reports that a vehicle was set across the road and burned, though that part hasn’t been verified. What we do know is that nothing was moving.

Our friends Teri and Bill Burch were caught right in the middle of it. They were on a day tour in a van when everything unfolded. They ended up stuck in a long line of cars in Cihuatlán before finally having to turn around and come back to Melaque.

The nationals here are deeply concerned, and that alone tells you how serious this is. The whole situation feels strange and unsettling — the kind of tension you can feel in the air even when the streets look quiet.

But for now, we’re safe. And we’re staying put.

Trivia Night at the Rusty Compass

Setting the Scene

Thursday afternoon at the Rusty Compass wasn’t just about drinks and trivia—it turned into a spectacle we’ll never forget. We grabbed a table, ordered our drinks, and settled in. But before the trivia even began, the real entertainment walked through the door.

The Characters

A group of five nearby plotted their domination of the music trivia world, cleverly recruiting a Canadian couple to cover any songs from north of the border. Then came the unforgettable entrance: an older gentleman in a wild toucan Hawaiian shirt, and his flamboyant companion—decked out in a sheer see trough top hardly covering the largest breasts you could imagine, tight denim shorts, and oversized sunglasses dripping with rhinestones. It was a scene straight out of Taxi Driver, and one we’ll never unsee.

The Contest

The trivia itself was simple: identify song titles, artists, or quirky facts while the moderator played generous clips. Our team worked together—Beth nailed the country songs, Linda and I chipped in with titles, and Deb carried us through most of the rounds. Meanwhile, the rowdy team in front of us shouted answers, more drunk than strategic.

Points weren’t just for correct answers. Margaritas, finger foods, t-shirts, and hats all earned bonus credit. Only in Mexico could nachos boost your trivia score.

The Results

When the dust settled, the stacked team of eight—musicians, drunks, and one unforgettable character—took first place. We came in second, which felt like a victory considering our smaller numbers. Half the brainpower, nearly the same score.

Paradise Vibes

And honestly, who cares about winning when you’re sipping drinks on the beach, spotting whales, and laughing with friends? Just another day in paradise. Wasn’t that a Phil Collins song?

DB/AI