I know, I know, I didn’t tell my three long-suffering readers that I had gone up to the Cape, but I did, this morning. Early.
Not a bad drive. Only two-and-a-half hours from north Boca.
It’s amazing how much the state changes both culturally and demographically just north of the Palm Beach/Martin County line. South lies the southern annex of New Yawk/Jersey. Italian restaurants and steak houses prevail. Seafood may be found, but generally only at the steakhouses.
North lies the south. Seafood shacks, fried stuff, barbecue, grits.
We used to say in Michigan that Detroit was the only place in the US (well, outside of Alaska) that you can look south and see Canada (go look at Detroit and Windsor, Ontario on a map). Well, Florida is the only state in the US where you have to drive north to get to the South.
It goes suddenly from quite urban to quite rural, with long stretches of nothing but swamp and pine forest–no sign of man except for the freeway itself, upon which one traverses them, up through Martin, St. Lucie and Indian River Counties. They and their suffering inhabitants were ground zero for both Hurricanes Frances and Jeanne, in the space of two weeks, only a few weeks ago. Both storms made land in almost exactly the same location, somewhere between Vero Beach and Fort Pierce.
I was surprised to see little damage. Or, I should say, I saw little damage to nature, but perhaps that’s because I’m not attuned to recognize it. The angles of the trees on the hammocks in the glades may have been altered, but I wouldn’t have known.
Man-made stuff is another matter. I saw many billboards absent both bills and boards, nothing but a frame, a skeleton, remained, appropriate for the upcoming season. Stopping for gas in Fort Pierce, I saw a Golden Arch ungilded, frame only, bereft even of the plywood upon which to place the gold, but with a stalwart handwritten sign below: “We’re Still Open.”
Had I more time, I’d have toured A1-A along the barrier islands, where I suspect the damage was both more extensive and obvious.
The Cape was in good shape, all considered. I was in a meeting at Boeing, in a conference room with a lovely view of the Indian River, and the Vehicle Assembly Building across it, off in the distance.
It looked closer than it was, as it always does, because there’s no sense of scale to indicate that it’s one of the largest buildings in the world. It lost some panels in the maelstroms, but neither of the storms were the ones that would put NASA out of the manned spaceflight business. That’s one of the reasons that the Cape was chosen for the premiere launch site. Historically, that region has been largely hurricane free, at least when it comes to Cats 3 and above. But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. They dodged two bullets this year.