Florida City, FL-Punta Gorda, FL 11/13 200 driving miles; 7 walking miles

Despite the ear shattering fire alarm that went off at 3:30 AM, this motel ranks second on the overall list, bouyed as it was by an excellent in house breakfast and most of all, a Starbucks very near by. After the morning cup of ambition, we made our way to the Everglades for our air boat ride at the Miccosuki Indians  spot called Buffalo Tigers Airboat Rides. Our guide, the first "best" human of the day, Eric, gave us a private ride that included a little speed, a little circular whoop-de-doo, a little alligator petting, and quite a bit of good conversation and information, once again showed that people with pride and excellence can survive wherever they may be. He grew up on the rez and has been giving airboat rides since he was thirteen. The ride he gave us was beyond any expectations I brought with me, and I've wanted to ride on one of these boats for quite some time. After we had our thrill ride and our 'gator fix, we made our way North to check on returning the rental car next Wednesday morning. Satisfied with the ease of that process, we carried on with the epilogue of our trip. We ended up in Punta Gorda, a little not quite gulf town nestled beside the Peace River and Charlotte Bay. The lady at the motel recommended Lashley's Crab House for dinner where we dined on the kind of thin gruel we've become accustomed to. We so soft now, some fisherman may mistake us for soft shell crabs and try to boil us for soup. Our waittress, Abby, a young mother of two and our second local of the trip, counts as second "best" human of the day. She has lived here all her life, and now she and her husband are raising their family here. You know, folks, that's all you get here in America: a chance to carve whatever you can out of the dream. It really doesn't matter if you're a tinker, a tailor, or a candlestick maker. The real point is to love life and live a life worth living. At dinner, we learned that there was a high school football game in town tonight, which is one of Ed's fond hopes for this trip. He said more than once, "I hope to see a high school football game in the South." Well, he was so excited when he found out, he almost soiled himself. We immediately turned ourselves into Tarpon fans, though  the Tarpons (10-0) on the season, had little trouble with their opponents, the Osceola Warriors. We did meet a proud father of one if the star players (Frank Thomas). His son, Stantley, caught six balls in the first half alone, one for a 59 yard touchdown and another for a touchdown to end the half. For him, for the home team, for the home fans, and for us, life us good, especially today.

Just another morning in paradise.

Home of the Miccosuki Indians. Their land currently encompasses 470 square miles, which is down from 1,000 square miles. I'm not sure of the dynamics, but Eric and his people are working land hard to protect it.

Eric, Ed (Demoted to 'gator bait), and me.

You think?

Eric said don't touch the tongue. If so, the jae snaps shut instantly with 3,000 lbs./sq. in.

 Eric touched this guy, who he called "No Tail" (9' long without the tail, which was bitten off by a rival), on the nose.

He touched him on the brain.

He tickled his chin. Wow!

Taken while traveling about thirty through the grass.

Maybe you can tell by Ed's hair.

Great vistas in the swamp.

Come on in. Water's fine.

Eric stopped the boat a few timed to explain things and answer our questions. Just excellent.

Art shot of the day: Gator bait.

Maybe this is more enticing?

The airboat.

Abby, server of the thin gruel.

Fish spread and crackers.

She Crab Soup.

Scallops, beans, and risotto.

Frank Thomas, proud dad of Stantley.

The National anthem.

The home team coming out onto the field.

Selfie of the day: On the Shark Valley boardwalk.

It was a nice day, Lily.