I'm about done with Florida. My last straw was actually what I hope was my last sinkhole. It appeared about a half mile from my house on the (wait for it...) dirt road that connects us river rats to the paved road and, eventually, civilization, technically known as US Road 129 but referred to by the locals simply as "the hard road." The start of asphalt pavement is such an awe inspiring feature in this area that elementary schools schedule field trips for tomorrow's little leaders and dairy farm workers to gaze in wonderment, the kids sitting on the side of the hard road eating their sack lunches while their teacher reads from one of the most popular local books, Where The Dirt Road Ends.
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