Time Travel . . . From Rainbow Springs to the Front Porch Restaurant

Hints of the head spring as you descend the path

A visit to the springs always seems like a trip back in time--a glimpse of the Florida described by 18th-century naturalist William Bartram in his Travels, the lush vegetation and water bodies that have lured tourists more recently. . . .

Leaving from Gainesville in North Central Florida, we took the Williston Road past the town of Williston, and then headed in the direction of Dunnellon on U.S. 41.

On this warm March day, the head spring filled quickly with families, teens, babies and floats. But to get away from the crowds, we rented a two-person kayak and headed for the river.

My daughter and I were not adept kayakers. It took a while to get the hang of the bow position as the power paddler and the stern as the rudder or navigator. We focused on avoiding other paddlers, the occasional boat or kids on a tube. My sister, more skilled, had her kayak filled with fins and snorkel gear and likely a sketchbook. She planned to swim in these 70-degree waters to view sand boils, darting fish and reflections of light, which would become subjects in her paintings.

These limpid, clear waters are bordered by cypress and marshes and home to wildlife such as turtles, which line up on partially submerged trees or on mats vegetation, coots and wading birds as well as gar.

We arrived back at the kayak rental outpost and waited to pull out boats up on the ramp. The abrupt transition from the watery world to the head spring with bathers and then the here-and-now of loading the car . . . . was disconcerting. And now, at 2 p.m., we were hungry.

No trip to Rainbow is complete without lunch at the Front Porch Restaurant, a few miles south of the spring, known for country cooking and 27 pies and reminders, “save room for pie.” Here, for less than $10, we had a choice of fried chicken (sometimes gator), sandwiches, salads and soups. Of course, we couldn’t leave without trying a pie. Our party shared key lime, coconut cream and pecan. . . .

Although the springs look pristine and provide that connection to an earlier Florida, they are "endangered"--nitrates from fertilizers (yes, even from home lawns) and poor land and water management policies as well as invasive species, threaten their existence. We needed that respite provided by the springs but also needed to experience the springs to ensure their survival.


If you go. . . .
Rainbow Springs is among the 600 to 700 springs that dot the state. What’s amazing as my sister points out in her book, Aquiferious, is this drive takes you over the recharge area for Rainbow Springs.

It’s Florida’s fourth largest spring. From the 1930s into the 1970s, Rainbow Springs was a tourist attraction, offering boat rides that allowed viewing below the water line, manmade waterfalls and a leaf-shaped monorail. But competition from Disney World and other factors led to its closure in 1974. It later reopened in 1995 as part of the state park system.

Visit the book, Aquiferious, by Margaret Ross Tolbert, 2010. The section on Rainbow Springs, 90-95.

Spring Break in Florida 2012

Thousands of students leave behind textbooks and projects for a week of relaxation, often on Florida beaches. Families travel here too. Tourists have one main goal—to put aside worries for one week and soak up sun.

Photo - Florida artist Margaret Tolbert writes in the sand.

University of Florida frat house announces spring break



For the local residents, it’s a time to avoid traveling Florida highways, which are brimming with trailers, caravans (RVs), trucks with boats in tow, SUVs with bike racks, surfboards, coolers and sand buckets and kids, chanting, “Are we there yet?”


But I planned to go to Melbourne Beach, which has been one of the lesser-known beaches. And I did something I never do--I joined the masses of interstate spring break travelers, an experience comparable to driving to Cannes or Juan-les-Pins for Easter vacation.


We all had our lists of “must do” activities. My son and fiancée planned time on the beach, ice cream at Del’s Freez on US 1, sushi at Thai Thai and then downtown Melbourne for St. Patrick’s festivities and a reunion with university friends.

My list included beach walks and sandcastles, dance lessons at the County Line . . . .and people watching.

Kids whizzed on skim boards, gliding on that thin layer of water. Others, dressed in long-sleeved shirts to avoid sunburn, spent hours digging deep holes or making elaborate sandcastles. Some retirees came day after day with tents, coolers and chairs.


Local fishermen staked out their territory. Pelicans and wading birds waited patiently for a snack.

Three days passed quickly. But unlike other tourists, I can return anytime.


Regrets? Next trip, I’ll make sure we put sandcastles at the top of the list.

Etre à l’heure

To be on time. . . .

The switch to Daylight Savings Time always has created that feeling of “jet lag” but without the excitement of a trip. As kids, we debated the meaning of spring forward. Now, we just look at our cell phones. . . .

The days of synchronization of watches seems to have passed—well, almost. Even though many of our electronic devices change time automatically, I still have wrist watches. And the queen’s royal time keeper has 450 clocks in Windsor Castle alone.

The Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland had one solution—his pocket watch was always at 6 o’clock, or tea time.

Time keeping technologies have been perfected throughout history. Some of the early innovations were developed by residents of Arabic and Chinese countries and later by Europeans. The accuracy of time pieces met with new challenge of navigation and the determination of longitude as well as the decision about a prime meridian.

Sundials. Gnomons. Water clocks. Weight driven. Pendulum. Artisans built elaborate clocks to show off their skills.

Towns, like Rouen with its Gros Horloge, and some chateaux (like Versailles) have famous clocks.

But the days of ornate clocks in a train station or town square seem to be something of the past. But I guess that switch to daylight savings would not be possible if our clocks required time keepers. . . .

Time change in France is March 25. . .



Clock - sundials, shown above, are from Antiques at La Boutique, Opio, France


To Learn More

For those of you interested in the use of churches as "time-keeping instruments," see J.L. Heilbron, The Sun in the Church.

Others may want to read about the Greenwich Meridian or clocks and navigation.

And if anyone has suggestions about a time machine that enables us to recover that lost hour, please post.

A visit to the dentist. . . .

The other day, my new dentist looked at my X-rays. She did not propose veneers or a new smile like many of her colleagues, but she said I would need a root canal.

Pain and money!

--If you give me permission, I can have an oral surgeon or an endodontist look at your X-rays.

Pain, money and a specialist?

I am a terrible dental patient. On one hand, I have no dental insurance and fret about the expense (a root canal is equivalent to a couple mortgage payments or that trip to Barcelona). But I dislike pain, and my tooth had started to ache.

On the day of my root canal, I went by the office in the morning to finish reports. Maybe I should reschedule the dental appointment? But no one at the office seemed in a hurry to get those reports.

Against the fresh smell of mouthwash and low hum of drills, I filled out paperwork—name, date of birth, allergies, apprehension (!), insurance. No insurance.

--He’s running a little late, the receptionist apologized. If you would like to grab some lunch. . . . and return by. . . .

This seemed to be a divine sign. . . . CANCEL. But I returned in two hours, terrified and grumpy.

X-rayed and measured. Numbed with a local anesthetic. Mouth wedged open. Contraptions inserted. But once the drilling subsided, I dozed, awakened only when asked if I was o.k. In 90 minutes, it was over.

I survived a root canal, but the big question remains. The price of healthcare for the uninsured. The US doctors have their expensive education, the threat of lawyers as well as payment through insurance companies. In France, your healthcare is through the government (all procedures are 80-90 percent covered; pregnancy is 100 percent covered). You pay insurance on the basis of your income (v. the fixed rate in the States).

Let's hope we can work toward a solution. . . .