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Showing posts from February, 2009

Peace River

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My friend TeaJay (also if you look carefully, her husband, Clay and myself). Tony Landa enjoying a mid-river lunch break. It seems like a lifetime ago, but there was a time when I was not able to travel for a living. During those dark, dull days, I had to rely on cheap, accessible ways to feed my ever-hungrier travel monkey. One frequently relied upon solution was camping. I would gather a group of friends, pack a cooler, grab a tent and be practically assured of a great time. Or if I was really lucky, I would have the chance to join the annual pilgrimage of South Florida’s artists, musicians and assorted creative types who, led by the lovable Cuban imp, Conga Rey, would spend a weekend joyfully destroying the tranquility implied in the name, Peace River. These legendary outings would generally involve groups of 50 or more people driving up to the small western Florida town of Arcadia to rent canoes, pitch tents and ingest enough substances to put down a medium-sized mammal. Throug