Author: Ken Steinhoff

Anne and I decided we’d ride south instead of north for a change the other day and ended up on Hypoluxo Island, which runs north and south from East Ocean Ave. and sticks out into the Intracoastal Waterway.

Map of North Hypoluxo Island

View North Hypoluxo Island in a larger map
I like it because there’s very little traffic and it’s slow-moving. The homes are a curious mix of the 50s, 60s and 70s, with a growing number of high-ticket McMansions popping up.

A place of unique mailboxes

One of my first PalmBeachBikeTours posts was about a neighborhood in Lake Worth, Fl., that had fancy mailboxes. This stretch of North Atlantic Dr. goes beyond that.

Starburst (Clerodendrum (Clerodendron) Quadriloculare)

Anne was particularly impressed with flowering shrub. When she asked me what it was, I had to admit that I didn’t have a clue. When Osa joined us on this weekend’s ride, we were lucky enough to spot the owner out in the front yard. He couldn’t remember the name either, so he took off on a run to ask his gardener.

I couldn’t make out the real name, but “Starburst” gave me enough of a clue that I could Google it.

Insisted on taking our picture

The nice man wouldn’t let us leave until he had taken our picture with my camera. Note how Anne and Osa are smiling. I, on the other hand, am remembering what happened to a photographer I dispatched to a riot. He radioed in that he was arriving at the scene, but then we didn’t hear anything from him. After about an hour, just before I was getting ready to send him backup, he walked in with a sheepish look.

“What the bleep happened to you? We were getting worried.”

“Well, I got there and made some pictures. Then, while I was standing around waiting to see if anything else was going to happen, this kid about about six years old walked up and said, ‘My daddy’s a policeman and he carries a radio just like your radio. Can I see it?’ The next thing all I see is a-hole and elbows as he boogied out of there. I got in a car with a couple of cops and we cruised around trying to find him, but he was long gone.”

Professional photographer advice

“OK, kid, I’m going to give you two pieces of professional advice: (1) NEVER let your equipment out of your grasp and (2), if you do, start out the story with ‘There I was, surrounded by these four thugs that had to be 6’4″ and carrying knives bigger than that….’ NOWHERE should the phrase, ‘six-year-old kid’ come in.”

I felt much better after the nice man handed me my camera back.

Copper or bronze?

This box looked like it might be copper or bronze.

Gators are a popular theme

Gallery of Hypoluxo Island mailboxes

Click on any image to make it larger, then click on the left or right side of the photo to move through the gallery.

Osa and I wanted to get in a mid-week ride, so we let the wind decide our direction. It was blowing briskly out of the south, so we headed south, hoping to be blown back home.

When we got down to about Lantana, she felt the first few sprinkles of rain. We stopped, bagged everything up and checked the radar. We had rain to the southwest, west and north, and the temperature was starting to drop. We decided those who fight and run away may live to fight another day, so we turned back. The tailwind, for once, stayed a tailwind.

Pavement wet in Lake Worth

By the time we got to Lake Worth Beach, we notice the pavement was wet, so we had just missed one line of showers. When we made the west turn onto Southern Blvd. from A1A, she thought I might want to stop to shoot an island bathed in light with the dark clouds behind it. I’ve run several photos from that location lately, so I was really just humoring her (you do that when you finally run across a good riding partner) when I pulled out the camera.

Just then, the sun lit up the clouds and the homes on Palm Beach and a jet on final approach to Palm Beach International Airport popped up. Thanks, Osa. [Click on the photos to make them larger. They’re nicer when you can see more detail. Brag mode off.]

We logged about 16 miles, dodged all the rain and I got a couple of easy photos. Not bad for a January afternoon when other cyclists are talking about the merits of studded bike tires to ride on ice.

It was a beautiful day Sunday, so I convinced Osa and Anne that we should ride some West Palm Beach neighborhood streets that neither of them had explored. Some of those are much more interesting than the places most riders stick to.

We made it through West Palm Beach to Blue Heron Blvd. and paused at the foot of the Blue Heron Bridge, the closest thing that passes for a mountain in South Florida.

Osa has been fish-sitting for a friend, so she asked if we could swing by the Marina Grande, where her friend lives. I’ve passed by the place many times while riding and on my way to food buddy Jan Norris’ house, but hadn’t been near the grounds since it gobbled up a landmark seafood joint, The Crab Pot.

Marina Grande is colorful

When we pulled up to the security guard shack, Osa explained to a very friendly guard that she didn’t have an ID on her because she hadn’t planned on needing it on our bike ride. The guard checked her log, discovered that Osa had been there in the past and waved her on. She said it was OK for us to go through as well.

As I rode past her, I whispered, “You might want to check her water bottle on the way out, there’s a rumor that Osa is a noted fish thief.”

Keeping your bike safe

Osa and Anne went up to feed the fish.

Jim Foreman, one of the phreds, is fond of saying, “One of three things needs to be on your bike at all times: your hand, your butt or a big, strong lock.”

Keeping Jim’s advice in mind, I opted to stay downstairs with the bikes. I was afraid that any place where security was lax enough to let the likes of us through was probably a haven for bike stealers.

That gave me plenty of time to notice how the building’s colors made everything look vibrant.

Even the foliage came alive

There was a picture to be made almost everywhere you turned. Even though Anne came downstairs raving about the saltwater tanks with their exotic fish and flowing soft corals, I didn’t regret hanging out near the building’s dumpsters.

I miss the Crab Pot

The condos are colorful and generate a lot more tax revenue for the city, but I miss the Crab Pot. It was one of those Old Florida institutions that had all kinds of kitsch hanging everywhere, but they sure could sling seafood. I cracked many a crab claw there.

You could eat inside where it was air conditioned (that’s how you could tell residents from tourists) or you could eat outside and toss your scraps over the railing to be scarfed up by fish or diving seagulls.