I arrived at Siesta Key Beach around 4:30/5pm, I think. Either way, it was prime drum circle hour. Yet when I walked out onto the sand, they weren’t out there. I figured maybe it had been cancelled due to the impending weather. So, I continued with my pack on toward the water. The sand was kicking up all around me with the huge gusts of wind, but still I planted my butt in the sand and took a few snapshots of the water and sun. I ate some chocolate and people watched for maybe a half hour. Then I picked myself up and started back toward the parking lot.
About half way toward the park and parking lot I could vaguely hear, off in the distance, the sound of what seemed like drums. So, I took a B-line and followed the sound. Eventually, I found them. Maybe a hundred people, die hard and tourists lucky enough to stumble on the scene, tempting the weather, and drumming on.
Its always a great scene. There are hippies and drum circle geeks, gypsys, and kids hulahooping, beach goers and teenagers, tourists and elderly folk, people dancing and swaying back and forth to the drums. The crowd is always friendly and smiling.
The only thing that definitely is annoying are the ultra christians and their megaphones screaming the whole time in the background. If they are trying to convert, they aren’t exactly going about it the right way. Somehow the crowd just assimilates them and they blend in with the noise. Well, I suppose that depends on how far you are from them in the circle.
I found a nice spot behind some drummers where I could still catch what was happening in the circle as far as dancers and firetwirlers and the like. There is always this older woman who likes to dress herself all up for the event in total gypsy garb and dance around with multiple hoolahoops and/or a sword balanced on her head. She passed out flowers from a basket around the circle this week. Very 1970 free love.
All and all I stayed put about two hours, then got back into the truck and took off for home. Around mile marker 167 I hear “Bam!”, and think to myself I ran over something. Three miles later my tire just disintegrates. Luckily I was in a construction zone and wasn’t going fast. Plus, I was already in the far right lane. I’m also a pretty good at quick response, so I never worried about loosing control or overcompensating. All good, just slowed down fast and parked it.
Unfortunately, it’s pretty creepy as a woman, or for anyone, to pull over on a busy highway and change a tire. Luckily for me, Taylor Becker, who I camped with the night before and lives in my complex, was about 20 miles behind me on the highway. She stopped and we changed the tire together. Between the two of us, it rolled pretty quick. We got the spare on and both headed to the nearest gas station, at exit 170.
We had our war wounds, Taylor sliced her finger and I jammed the pole to the jack into my leg pretty hard at one point, but we survived. At the gas station, Taylor washed her hands and I found some coins to get the air pressure machine going. Tire pressure good. And off we go toward home. I think Taylor went back on the highway, I took Tamiami Trail, hoping for some slower speeds just in case this spare was a bit more questionable than anticipated.
Anyway, Siesta Key was awesome, as usual. Totally, worth the trip from the park to the beach, and even though I had a tire blow. No worries. Won’t hold me down! Taylor would call that Girl Power. Ha!
