Visiting The Chief in Tomoka State Park

Chris and I ventured out yesterday and we didn't even have any medical appointments. Instead, Chris packed a lunch and we set off past the houses and into the woods. We were looking for a paved bike path that borders North Beach Street. We were seeking paved trails because Chris was outfitted to walk and I was outfitted to pilot my electric scooter. I still can't walk, you see, and since I moved at a glacier's pace with my walker, we needed to find a path that won't bog down my modestly powered sco onoter. 

We didn't. But we did find Tomoka State Park. Uncrowded and rustic. A place I visited a lot as a kid. We moved to Daytona in 1964 with a Ford Falcon of 10 people and one dog. The beach was our favorite, so different from our Colorado home turf. The surf moved, the mountains did not. Both were vast playgrounds. Tomoka was too. A river to splash in and woods to romp in.

Indian grounds back in pre-Columbian days. The Timucuan Tribe, numbering some 200,000 in the pre-Columbian era. They were wiped out by 1800. They had the bad luck of their location close to St. Augustine where Spanish Conquistadores landed and set locate the gold they were promised but instead found Natives offering them shellfish so killed them. Also, smallpox and VD. I plan to read more about the tribe but realize it is part of a sad saga that was repeated over the decades all across the continent.

Chris walked. I powered my scooter over the hard-packed sand. It was easygoing until we reached the statue of Chief Tomokie. The statue preserves a tale told by the Timucuans or told about them. It was planned and built by Fred Dana Marsh, a sculptor who moved to Ormond Beach in the 1930s. His wife urged him to build a beach house which has since been demolished. He also did the bas reliefs of the Four Muses at Peabody Auditorium (still there) and the Chief Tomokie work. During World War 1, he designed stirring posters for the war effort. Later, he hung out in Paris cafes with other expat artists.

I guess it's nice that all sorts of local places are named for The Chief and his tribe. It would have been even nicer had Europeans had let them live in peace. That's not how colonization works.

We picnicked on a table at the Outpost Store. The Outpost makes great lemonade. We watched visitors slip their boats off of trailers and motor down the river. Later, we shopped at the store. I bought some locally made honey by bees and beekeepers. Bought a book about Florida's early development in the years before the Civil War. A T-shirt too, of course. 

I am pleased to be mobile. I am pleased to be here. Today I'm at the beach in Daytona close to where I surfed as a teen. Those days, what great memories.

Those days.