I'm sure most people know what the name of Trump's Palm Beach mansion means by now...Mar A Lago, Spanish for Sea to Lake. Well my little day trip today can best be described as Lake to Sea, so Lago A Mar.
I first drove south on 27 and quickly checked out the Seminole Reservation Casino south of Lake Placid and, like last time I'd been here, it just didn't seem appealing at all. I took a little walk around the entire gaming floor and, being so small, that didn't take long at all. I was really hoping to find some old school Draw Poker machines like the one I hit on in Vegas years ago. Nope. Only newer, flashy vertical LCD screen abominations which are only animated slots with confusing by-lines and controls I didn't even get. I don't even think there were pull levers. Why must the world change? First no clink-clink of coins, now no lever to pull. No wonder everyone there was sad, old and on their last leg and likely their last buck. I left before the zombies could grab hold of me.
I drove east on a lovely death road (you know, those one lane each way 60 MPH roads traveled by not only other cars but big, hulking 18-wheelers hauling heavy shit like moist sod or orange juice which would add to its inertia if it were to hit you head-on...not fun) to the town of Okeechobee and made my way a smidge south to the northern shore of the vast Lake Okeechobee. Remember, I'd been by here a few times in the past but never got to glance at a decent vista of the lake proper. Well, this time I did.
Lake Okeechobee has always fascinated me, even when I was a kid, being a geography nerd like I am, I'd be intrigued by this big, round lake in the middle of the southern part of the Florida peninsula. I imagined the Indian communities on the shores of this lake, visiting, trading and even warring with each other for centuries (like the activity described in The Last of the Mohicans). Today on this breezy morning, there were only a few old white people, either tourist-peepers like me or fishing off the pier. There was one darker skinned dude, maybe he was one of The Last of the Seminoles?
After snapping a few pics including this one, I drove further east.
Finally, I visited Ft. Pierce! I shot this pic of the ocean view at Jetty Park, walked to the nearby Sunrise Sands Restaurant and finally had me my fried grouper sandwich....
Nope. No grouper. Only Mahi-Mahi. Not a big fan. (Though honestly I haven't tried Mahi-Mahi in over 20 years so maybe I would like it? Too late now.) I got a fried chicken sandwich on brioche bun with onion rings and a Diet Coke ($21.25 plus tip) I come all the way to the sea for a chicken sandwich? Eh, it was good so I won't complain.
Had nice outdoor patio seating and would have been even better if it were a tad warmer than 69 degrees. And that very tie-died beachcomber local and his wife sitting nearby that reeked of whisky and cigarettes. Funny how booze now smells bad like cigarette smoke always did. Okay live singing and guitarist though. Would I come back? Well, the beach and this (or two other nearby places of a similar nature) and that's it. So, no, too boring.
Decided to return home via a more circuitous route going north on interstate 95 to Rt. 60 (only a partial death road) west to Lake Wales, south on 27 again, heading home, this time from the north. All in all today, I drove through Highlands, Glades, Okeechobee, St. Lucie, Indian River, Osceola and Polk counties! 245 miles.
