I’ve noticed for some time now, an abundance of Confederate flags, dotting my landscape at every turn. As my bicycle wheels churn past the homes on County 349 each morning, I notice at least a half dozen in this sparsely populated area. Either heading up the Suwanee to Fanning Springs or south to the Gulf, I spot them at random, dotting both fish camps and vacation retreats with equality. There’s an underlying sense that the Civil War is not yet over here. Last weekend I went to the re-encatment. OK, the battle was a representation, and done oh so well. The actors played their part to the hilt, beyond reproach and I was pleasantly entertained. What caught my surprise was the gallery. Just prior to the start of the battle, cat calls and “hollers” from the crowd made me feel much like a football game. You know the ones. The guys who yell out from the stands as if the players actually hear their chants. They enjoy calling attention to themselves. Verbalization of ‘kick those damn Yankee asses’, and “show ’em we mean business down here in the South’, and it’s “Johnny Rebs day today, boys”, called attention to the fact that this wasn’t just a re-enactment, but a reincarnation of hope, that once again the Rebels would rise and claim their own country. I haven’t seen this degree of regionalism since last visiting Texas. That was a cultural adjustment for me. Those Lone Star natives actually believe that Texas is it’s own country. And perhaps it is all about regionalism. I have always believed that people don’t necessarily root for a team of players, but a uniform. Should a player be traded to another team, the loyalty of local rooters is left abandoned. It matters not the man under the helmet, or the cap, or the mask, what matters is the uniform that they’re wearing. Maybe the reason here for the cat calls at the battle. But I’m still confused about the meaning of colors of the Confederacy waving all over the Suwanee. 
Southern Hospitality
Battle of Olustee
Sunday was time for a motorcycle road trip. I had spotted the Olustee Battlefield Park some weeks ago on a return from Jacksonville Airport. I remembered seeing a re-enactment to take place on this weekend. I saddled up the Stratoliner and headed out for Trenton, where I decided to take some back roads. Heading north on Highway 47 proved to be a prime riding road. I especially loved the historic little village of Fort White, which I will visit again. On to Lake City and then pick up Highway 90 to the park, which totalled 80 miles from the outset at Yellow Jacket Resort. I’ve been to Gettsyburg and their homage to the Civil War and they had nothing on this display at Olustee. The Battle of Olustee is historic, and you may decide to read about it by clicking on the link. It was just lengthy here to give you a history lesson. What I especially liked was the vast array of tents set up in period style along with the belles and gents in their period costumes. Sauntering through the woods toward the battlefield became almost surreal. You could almost meld into the surroundings and the time warp made me feel as if you were living more than a century ago. The equestrian hooves vibrated the ground beneath as a Confederate colonel gaited through his troops on the way to the artillery canons, and you could literally smell the sweat from emanating between saddle and horse. I met a Southern Belle named Linda, who in conversation told me about her tubing and rafting business located on the Ichetucknee River and State Park. There’s reason there for another road trip in the future. On to the battlefield and the actual re-enactment. It lasted a bit more than an hour and was quite interesting to watch the placement of troops and the still Continental style of fighting that was utilized. Compared with modern technology, guerrilla warfare and the battles of today, these Civil War tactics proved almost suicidal. The ride back was even more pleasant as the setting sun proved a beacon on my way west. A poste haste meeting of campground fulltimers seemed to be in effect later in the evening and it was decided we would all go on a pontoon outing for Monday afternoon. Hopefully the weather will comply. But in the meantime, dinner, a fire, and freshly made cupcakes by Robin while I was gone will be the fare for the evening.
New Canon 60D
I’m continued to be awed by the effect of weather upon my psyche. Even the worst of problems seem miniscule when awakening to sunrises like this. My new camera came in the mail this week. The insurance company replaced my stolen 40D with Canon’s updated 60D. I was hoping for the 7D but after a week of using this new gem, I’m satisfied. More on the camera review in the next update. Daily I watch the locals launch and land from the ramp on their quest for brim. I gather information and tips but the multiculturals often give me their leftover bait. So I am now in possesion of a small worm farm. I found out this week why these worms are leftover. They’ve not been working for me either. Three times out this week at different times has continued to render an empty live well. Perhaps the ensuing week will prove more productive. The park is beginning to fill once again. Friday nights “rivertales” was attended by a group of 40 this time. Each week we seem to gather additional couples. The opportunity for new acquantances and camaraderie is a growing thing. Campfires, dock talk, and a full moon on the Suwanee continue to daunt any shortcomings of any given day.
GypsyLarry
