Fun in the Sunshine State

Memorial Day! Unfurl the Stars and Stripes, ice the lemonade, slap the hot dogs on the grill, and fire up the Indy 500 in the background. There's no better announcement that summer has arrived than the lazy Memorial Day long weekend. Except of course if it's a miserably cold and rainy in the Big Apple. Time to set sail for warmer climes.

 

Clearwater Beach, just outside of Tampa, was voted America's #1 beach at some point in the distant past. With a stretch of sand like this, who's arguing? Probably Mei...

Sand doesn't get any whiter than this. No wonder the Republicans held their annual convention here.

Actually, apparently it can get whiter. The more secluded beach of Siesta Key is reputably the whitest of all. Until Rock strips down and exposes the results of a interminable New York winter that is.

Nothing like a hot dog to put the finishing touches on a perfectly honed beach body.

For the price of a week in the Hamptons you could rent a condo for a year down here. Rock reckons you get what you pay for.

A rare sight in Florida, a flag that isn't Confederate.

The best way to fit in at a Floridian beach is to sample every food outlet between here and the water. Oh, and a couple of tattoos would help too.

Memorial Day 2013, tip your hat to those who are scrambling over sand that isn't a beach and dodging projectiles that aren't wayward beach balls on our behalf.

For jaded New Yorkers emerging from the long northeastern hibernation it takes a few minutes to confirm that this isn't snow.

No need to suck it in dude, this is Florida. If you've got it, flaunt it. After all, we did pass the original Hooters on the way here.

How's your swimming? The Hamptons are only 1,200 miles up that way.

Rock lacks the built-in floatation device that most Floridians have around their waist. That's easily fixed, who's up for ribs tonight?

Maybe leaving the island isn't so bad after all. It could be worse, you could be in New Jersey.

A surf shack that serves up fair trade espresso, it doesn't get any cooler than that. Actually it will in a moment, when that dude vacates the premises.

You can't do Florida without a round of golf. Even if the round is on a Rock-friendly course.

Don't worry, Michelle Wei is just as bad, and she's not exactly slumming it.

Ahoy me hearties! You don't happen to have a chest of spare balls in the hold do you?

Mei finally realizes the quickest way to the clubhouse bar is to put the ball in the hole in as few strokes as possible. What a novel concept.

Now that's a double bogey Mei will take every time.

Rock takes the Deutsche Bank Championship by two strokes, after Sergio self-destructs on the back nine with back-to-back sixes. Hate to break it to you mate, but this isn't the IPL.

As the sun starts to set on Clearwater, the party is just getting started. Although some would argue the sun has already set on this bunch of aging rockers.

Apparently Frenchy's is the hottest spot on the beach. Sure, if your idea of a beach is the Jersey Shore.

At least there's no boardwalk here. Although there's enough tattoos on display to suggest that the installation of one would be a welcome addition to the community.

Skinny dip anyone? Actually, in the land of the Big Gulp skinny isn't really in the dictionary in these parts.

Which way to the pier party?

Just follow the psychedelic umbrellas.

Conveniently the historic district of Ybor is just a short drive from the airport, a perfect spot to kill some time before heading back up north.

What the district lacks in vowels it makes up for in quaint Caribbean charm.

Cuban sandwich anyone? Just check the State Department embargo list before you bite in, you may need to renounce your citizenship first.

"Stand clear of the closing doors". Mei feels right at home waiting for the Y line.

Columbia's, a Tampa institution and one of the oldest restaurants in America. Apparently it seats a colossal 1,700 people, although that's probably more like 1,200 these days given Florida's... uhm... expansionary policy.

Don't be a snooty New Yorker and comment sardonically on how the menu has to explain what tapas are. Ooops, too late.

The legendary 1905 salad and garlic prawns. Not a bad way to sign off on the Sunshine State.

Rock's Rollicking Rock Scramble



The first signs of spring may be a little elusive in New York this year, but that didn't stop Team J00ster from heading south for greener pastures, namely the rolling foothills and jagged granite peaks of Shenandoah National Park.

 

 

Little House in the Woods. The quaint country town of Luray is the gateway to the legendary Skyline Drive, the most American of ways to view a national park: from the comfort of your double cab F-150 with a Big Gulp in both drink holders and a shotgun in the back. Just in case you run into any Democ... err... black bears.

 

What have we here? For once Mei isn't the shortest one in the house.

The local black bears should be waking up from their annual hibernation right about now. With the way Team J00ster is loading up at this cozy Main Street cafe, their first meal of the year good be a bountiful one. 

Backcountry? Oh, you mean like the Harlem end of Central Park?

Oh I see, when you said head south to escape the snow you meant Florida. Unfortunately the idea of a spring de-thaw is quickly put on... wait for it... ice. 

Going uphill is hard when the trail could double as the Sochi Men's Downhill course. At least the return leg should be quick.

Nearing the peak of Hawksbill Mountain, the highest point in the park. National park funding may be suffering, but at least this nifty day shelter hasn't been foreclosed on yet.

On top of the world. The Blue Ridge Mountains aren't particularly high as far as mountains go, but the way they rise almost vertically from the rich farmland below lets the punch well above their weight in the vista department.

The quickest way to warm up is to get closer to the sun. Failing that, there's a nice cafe down the road that serves up hot cider.

In the footsteps of Edmund Hillary. Yeah right, more like the latest North Face catalog; the outdoor gear equivalent of one of those feature-laden SUVs that never makes it beyond the wild outer fringes of the Walmart parking lot.

Team Jusster is in da house!

Despite the relatively mild temperatures down in the valley, it's still deep winter up here at the summit. Probably a good thing, should keep those black bears snoring long enough to get back to the car.

We're not the only ones enjoying a spring stroll. If you think slipping and sliding your way up a mountain is tough, spare a thought for these fellows who have been living off twigs for the past four months.

Mei demonstrates perfect Giant Slalom technique on the tricky descent. It seems the steaming cup of hot chocolate waiting at the bottom is better than any motivational speech from the coach.

Having conquered the heights, it's time to descend into the depths. The day's second hike leads deep into a snow-covered ravine in pursuit of an elusive, and extremely icy, waterfall.

Mei spots a potential ride to the bottom.

In summer you can swim in the pool at the base of the falls. In winter you can to, assuming you remembered to pack your ice fishing gear... and you've updated your will.

The day's third hike heads back skywards, but this time to instead of a summit the forest suddenly gives way to the shattered remains of what once was another majestic mountain.

Tectonic events lost in the mists of time have left only a massive pile of stones and rubble, a reminder that Mei's definition of forever - as in "why is it taking forever to get to the top" - is a little different from Mother Nature's.

Whew, anyone else worked up an appetite? That's what usually happens when Rock has eaten all the day's provisions by 10am.

 

The picturesque town of Staunton boasts a Main Street, USA that wouldn't be out of place in Disney World.

Farm-to-table fare isn't a hipster buzzword around here, it's what's been served on dinner tables for 200 years and counting.

Day two dawns like it really is spring. A perfect day for tackling the most famous, and reputably dangerous, hike in the park: the legendary ascent to the summit of Old Rag.

The hike itself is a nine mile circuit, but the it's the last epic mile to the summit that gives the hike its reputation. More on that in a moment.

Step lively folks this isn't a pleasure cruise! Well, in theory it is a holiday but don't tell that to Sergeant Rock who's setting a cracking pace.

False alarm. Just when you think the challenge rating was set using a mobility scooter, you realize this is but one of three false summits.

A precarious place for a game of dominoes. Push one and you've got them all.

Useful evidence to convince the jury it was an accident...

Petrified walruses?

The start of The Last Mile, described somewhat dryly by the National Park Service as a "strenuous rock scramble to the summit". You don't say. It turns out this so-called scramble is one of the most exhilarating pieces of hiking, or should we say climbing, you'll find anywhere. Forget about handholds, forget about railings, this is all about precariously inching your way upward along shear cliffs, with nothing to guide you but the occasional blue blaze spray-painted right onto the rock.

It's hard to hold a camera whilst hanging on for dear life, so we'll skip straight to the victory montage.

Didn't anyone bring the Kiwi flag to plant?

The long hike down is a race against the setting sun.

But wait, there's more. If you thought scrambling along rock ledges at 3,000 feet was the most dangerous activity of the day, think again. It turns out a barbecue and lighter fluid is a far more lethal combination. Or rather, it's a far more lethal combination when some idiotic city slicker decides to prove his outdoor cred. The end result: two hours in the emergency room and a rather crispy face and wrists. Stick to the Wholefoods hot food bar dude.

Fortunately, the final destination of the trip is tailor made for a fried face: you won't have to worry about getting too much sun in here.

The Luray Cavern is the largest cave on the East Coast, and rightly attracts over half a million visitors a year.

The highlight is the mirror lake, where the intricate ceiling is perfectly cloned in the invisible water of a subterranean lake.

Does anyone else see a BBQ in that formation? Scary stuff. 

The famous Sunny Side Up formation. Who's ready for breakfast? Preferable not barbecued.