The Whitehead Street Chicken Fiasco

Ray drew this reenactment of when he claims I threw my bike down when I saw chickens in Key West. In my defense, there were many chickens, probably four — but possibly up to 12 — closing in on me at the corner of Whitehead and Olivia Streets. I think one of them had a knife.
 
Things surprise you when you're traveling that surprise no one else. Like wild chickens.

The residents of Key West probably think nothing of these big chickens that wander around clucking and crowing all the time, but for us, coming upon wild roosters in the streets... whaaaaat?   

It wasn't until we were eating chips and salsa a few hours later that Ray told me I threw my bike down (I thought he had it), leaving him to try and catch it before it crushed our toes. He drew the picture to better capture our (supposed) expressions. 

Aside from congregations of them at our little villa hotel and on the street corner, the weirdest place I saw a rooster in Key West was at the gas station. Just standing in the middle of the gas pumps like, 'Yo, I heard they have great fro-yo here.'
 
Be glad there wasn't a Popeye's in that gas station, chicken. Like the one at Madison and Edwards.

Madison and Edwards Popeye's/gas station — no place for a wild chicken. 

I keep ending up in Florida for work conferences, so we took the opportunity to road trip down US1 from Miami to Key West earlier this month. It was 80 degrees, balmy and sunny pretty much the whole time. In a word, amazing.  (Joke's on us though. It was 17 degrees when we landed back at CVG.)

We toured the Hemingway Home and Museum.


Petted the six-toed cats there, including this nighttime escapee...

 

Watched the sunset from Mallory Square.



And visited the Southernmost Point.


(There is a Southernmost Point live webcam. Ha, who knew!)

I wasn't expecting the Southernmost Point to be anything but a photo opp for us, to say we'd been, but I was surprised at how strongly connected I felt there, to both the international visitors alongside us and to the people of Cuba. There is a granite marker just a few feet from me in this photo honoring the thousands of Cubans who have lost their lives at sea attempting the 90 mile trek from Cuba to this island. It makes you think.  

But mostly we spent our time riding around the island on rented bikes, traversing Key West in the dark looking at Christmas lights in 80 degree weather. (Christmas in warm, humid air is so foreign to me.)  

But also, wild chickens!

 

I'm certain this was one of the four-to-twelve culprits that was closing in on me when I threw my bike down.