Ellen declined an invitation to go biking along A1A in the Fort Pierce, Vero Beach area. I packed up my bike and threw it in the car and headed east and then north up Dixie Highway.  The bike was never taken out of the car. This area is a vast wilderness of planned and unplanned communities and oodles of undeveloped land bordering the railroad. After finally meandering my way to A1A, I finally headed south. That’s when I found Round Island State Park (2201 Florida A1A, Vero Beach, FL 32963).

The park attracts hikers and casual fisherman. What makes this park so attractive is its unique access to the local water.  I did enjoy my hike, but the view of the bridge was an invitation to explore this area by kayak. 

Leaning over the side I saw many fish, this one was about 10 inches long.

The bridge was part of an extended boardwalk over the water. There are several such areas that extend to either side of the trail.

Walking along further brought me to this tower. In fact, seeing this structure surprised me because they did not have to be there but added immeasurably to the visit.

The view from the top shows Vero beach homes along the Indian River.

There were some spectacular sightings of pelicans, egrets, cranes and other birds of prey, but most were startled and took off before I could raise my camera. I did get lucky with my next shot.

I was also able to capture this shot of a Common Buckeye butterfly. I was most pleased with this photo. It took 5 tries to get a decent pose.

The path widened to a seldom used dirt and gravel road. The gravel abruptly stopped and the road became barely a path surrounded on either side by mangrove swamp. This finally emptied onto a field that had been carefully laid out by a land developer. Then the money stopped and all there was a bridge to nowhere and brick courtyard.

Notice the care to make a walkway as well as a bridge. Also notice the wall that would guard the estate from common folk. That was also a barrier for me. I had covered quite a bit of distance on a long meandering path and did not feel like doubling back and it was getting late. I walked toward the entrance and gate willing to do some climbing when I came to this access tunnel that went under the highway.

Graffiti was extensive and debris was heaped in random piles. The graffiti was shocking in its vibrant colors and also the language that expressed a vulgar aspect of existence.  Fortunately it was a private gallery, its contributors absent, at least for the present. The irony of the very wealthy and the very poor leaving their mark was strange and unsettling.

I hiked back to my car and headed home. It was good to get exercise and be rewarded for my efforts.