Sometime last summer, I started thinking about how much I hated the cold, dark days of January and February. I determined to get out of New England for that time and decided to take myself, my tent, my kayak and the rest of my camping gear south to some of the excellent state parks in Florida and Georgia. Although I normally don’t like long drives, I would do the trip in 4 days, never spending more than 8 hours on the road. And at this point, the phrase “polar vortex” was not on my radar.

I planned my first day to be short…just over the border to New Jersey. Over the George Washington Bridge. Only I had forgotten (or never realized!) what a shit-show driving over that bridge is. To make matters worse, I misjudged the time, so I was heading over the bridge just as it began to get dark. The traffic was hideous and even my GPS got confused. I ended up going north when I wanted to go south, having to backtrack, make a huge loop around and try again. By that time it was full dark and my hands were gripping the steering wheel way too tightly. When I finally emerged into New Jersey there were what seemed like endless on and off ramps before merging onto Route 46…which would bring me to my hotel.

I had chosen this hotel because it looked like it was conveniently right off the highway. And it was. But it was not convenient. The entrance was a right turn, directly across an entrance ramp. Where many, many vehicles were zooming onto the road. I slowed. I put my blinker on. I looked. I looked again. It was clear. I turned…and saw in front of me a pickup truck, barreling across my path. It accelerated and swerved slightly as I continued to turn. I think I missed it by an inch. Maybe less. As I pulled into the hotel parking lot, I realized I’d been holding my breath and my hands were shaking. I sat there for a few minutes, immobile. But I was safe. And I had wine and chocolate.

The rest of the journey was, thankfully, uneventful. A stop in Chester, VA and another stop in Savannah, GA and then I arrived at my camping spot. A farm in Lady Lake, Florida called “Lazy K Ranch.” I set up camp and relaxed.

Although the weather was a bit chillier than I had hoped, it was a far cry from the 12° I had left in Massachusetts. I toasted Florida in front of my campfire.

The next few days were in the 50s and 60s, but a bit rainy, so I did some exploring. I went up to “The Villages”, a purpose-built over-55 community that seemed like a kind of Disneyland for adults. There were four “themed” towns, with building façades designed to evoke a specific atmosphere. I went to the movies in the “old West” area and met a friend for dinner and show in the “Spanish” themed town. Everything was very tidy and picturesque, in a kind of cardboard cut-out sort of way. Old folks zoomed around on their golf carts and recorded music played out of discreetly placed speakers. Ersatz living at its best.

I took a drive up to Ocala and visited the Appleton Museum, which had a surprisingly good and interesting collection.

Since I love local history, I paid a visit to the site of Fort King, where some of the 50+ years of conflict with the Seminole Tribe occurred. The Seminoles fought valiantly for their land, and in a just world, they’d still be living there.

My last day at the farm, the sun came out and the temperatures were in the 70s, much more like the Florida weather I had hoped for. I sat in the sun, read, knit and looked at the animals. There were horses, cows and two very robust goats who came up to you for pets like dogs.

After I packed up on Saturday, I drove over to Mt Dora, a cute little village with lots of craft stores, trendy clothing boutiques and antique shops. I met up for lunch with an old high school friend, her husband and a spare man she had brought along. I think she was trying to play matchmaker and while no sparks flew, it was a good time.

For the next two days, I had booked myself a room on Ormond Beach. It was a funny little place. Called itself “condos” and promised a beach view balcony with every unit. My room had a Murphy bed that folded down out of the wall and rendered the two nightstands inaccessible once in the down position. Had a laundry room, but only coin operated and no change machine (and I’m not in the habit of carrying a roll of quarters around.) It did not have a balcony, but did have a large picture window where if you turned your head just right, you could see a sliver of ocean. But it was warm and heated and had a couch, a fridge, a microwave and Netflix on the TV. I made myself comfortable and settled in to wait out the thunder and lightning storm that had rolled in.

The second day, the sun peeked out in the late afternoon and I was able to go for a walk on the beach. It felt good to have my bare toes in the sand and the temperature was still mild.

I was then supposed to be off to my next camping adventure, at a beautiful out-of-the-way state park called Faver-Dykes. But the predicted weather looked increasingly dreadful. Temperatures in the 40s, rain, wind and ice! Too much even for a seasoned camper like me. I canceled the campground and booked a cozy little AirBnB just outside of St Augustine. And that’s where I am now!

One day you’ll look to see I’ve gone
For tomorrow may rain, so I’ll follow the sun
Some day you’ll know I was the one
But tomorrow may rain, so
I’ll follow the sun