Buying tupelo honey roadside

If you’ve ever driven US 98 between Perry and Newport en route to Tallahassee and points west, chances are you’ve seen the tupelo honey man set up at the Bloxham Cutoff.  It never fails – every trip, I see him there.  So I did stop and buy a honeybear full of the golden stuff.

The tupelo trees are in full bloom now, so beekeepers along the Apalachicola River valley are busy with production. If you’re ready for a taste of this mild but distinctive honey, you don’t have to go to the source (although it’s fun) in Wewahitchka, a small town between Blountstown and Port St. Joe where the bulk of the apiaries are.

Instead, you can pop into a produce stand, or meet the tupelo honey man – a personable fellow who’s happy to tell you why you should be having a little tupelo honey every day.

Black Hammock Fish Camp

One of the first genuine Florida adventures I was introduced to upon arriving back as a resident after a long absence was the crazy quilt of outdoors and dining that is Black Hammock Fish Camp, not far from Orlando along Lake Jesup in Oviedo.

The restaurant is down-home and tasty, featuring farm grown alligator and seafood. At the time I visited, you had to slip and slide down a sand road, much like driving in snow, to get there. The road’s since been paved but rambles through old orange groves in a blissfully agricultural district of Seminole County.

Beyond the restaurant, it’s a complex of entertainment and outdoors: a marina and boat ramp, waterfront tiki bar and shop full of trinkets and Ts, an alligator pit, and airboat rides on Lake Jesup. Now I’ve experienced for a fact that Lake Jesup is full of alligators. So if you’re hankering to see some, either hatchlings in a tank, gator tail on your plate, or the big guys in the lake, this is the place to be.

Black Hammock Fish Camp
2356 Black Hammock Fish Camp Road
Oviedo, FL 32765
407-365-1244

Spongeorama, along the Anclote River

Okay, it’s a bit dated and kitschy, but there just ain’t nothing else like it. When in Tarpon Springs, you must make a point of visiting SpongeORama!  The film (watch it and you get a discount in the shop) sets the tone for the extensive displays on the history of sponging in Florida, which appear to date back to my youth (the museum opened in 1968) but, despite their age, give a detailed overview of all aspects of the industry and Greek culture and life in Tarpon Springs. Did you know, for instance, that red tide walloped the commercial sponging industry back in 1957? It’s not a new phenonmenon. After you’ve soaked in the history (be sure to stand under the fans), take a gander at the wide variety of sponges available for everything from artists brushes to keeping you clean in the bath. Buy a sponge, support a native Florida industry!

SpongeORama
510 Dodecanese Blvd, Tarpon Springs
(727) 943-2164

Cooters at Cooter Park, Inverness

Have you driven US 41 through Inverness anytime lately? If not, you’re in for a treat. Seems several years ago the city took on a serious cleanup and park creation project right along the downtown pondfront at the municipal complex, and the end result is Cooter Pond Park, notable for its big stack of faux cooter turtles at the corner with US 41. The boardwalk complex, which zigzags over the sizable pond, is an ideal place for birding.

I’ve been there several times since it opened, and it never fails that I encounter some large bird – a red-shouldered hawk this last visit – on the boardwalk railing by the gazebo. Look down into the pond, and you’ll see the namesakes of this waterway, docile and placid, and you might scare up a few gators, too. The boardwalk is a good half-mile-plus round-trip from the city lot, and offers little games and puzzles for the littlest ones.

The “She-inal” was created by Kathy Kidder Jones, who founded a company in Pensacola in the early 1990s to create and market her patented invention, where women are supposed to use the hose to stand while relieving themselves. Her idea got enough traction that these contraptions ended up in quite a few Dairy Queens around the country, and a few other places as well.

This is the only one I’ve happened across, and it’s now a modern museum piece. No, it’s not in any of my guidebooks.

Take aim, ladies!

Barbecue is the mainstay here but they open early for breakfast – 5 AM – for folks headed out early to enjoy the outdoors, and make great pancakes, eggs, and grits. Stop by and fill yourself up!

Now we know people centuries ago were short. Just take a look at antique beds and pioneer cottages. I’d be hitting my head on the lintel every time I ducked through the door! I had that trouble in Nepal, in fact, in every cab, bus, and shop. And I’m only 5’5″. Still. Ponce de Leon Park is Punta Gorda’s secret beach. It’s where everyone goes to see the sunset, to walk the short boardwalk through the mangroves, and to do a little fishing. It’s the home of the Peace River Wildlife Center – where they rehab injured birds and mammals – and a frequent field trip destination for CHEC, for wading out into the harbor to scoop up tiny critters.

But then there are the Ponces. They’re everywhere you look! I counted three, maybe four. All adorably sized, for a would-be conqueror. In 1513, the famed conquistador landed on these shores looking, as one did in those days, for gold. While he didn’t take any home, when he returned in 1521 to establish a colony on this coast, he suffered a wound at the hands of the Calusa, who understandably didn’t like the Spanish Armada snooping around their cities in the mangrove islands. Ponce died far from home in Havana, Cuba, in 1522, from complications related to that injury. And we have these pint-sized Ponces to remind us of his footsteps here.

Did you know that in the 1970s, Stuckeys had the first real email system for travelers? I still have the brochure. It was a computer where you could leave a message for a friend and they’d stop into any Stuckeys, type in their secret code, and get the message. But over the years, the interstates crowded out the US highways and Stuckeys vanished, converted into less-glamorous uses.  There are only two “real” Stuckeys left in Florida – I don’t count the Stuckeys name slapped on a gas station to sell candy to be the same – and of those two, the one that still shows the genuine hospitality, cleanliness, and friendly spirit I remember from the 1960s is the Stuckeys at the Bagdad / Milton exit along I-10. It’s loaded with goodies and nostalgia items, and has a Dairy Queen to boot.  Do stop in when you’re on a road trip!