Best Of :: Sports & Recreation
"If rattlesnakes, cottonmouths, alligators, scorpions, wasps, mosquitoes, chiggers, horseflies, spiders, palmetto stumps, swamp, sugar sand, sawgrass, briers, wild pigs, or World War II ordnance bother you, go back to Yahoo! The rest of you, listen up!" Welcome to the opening lines of the Website of Club Scrub, a group that has spent nearly every Sunday morning for the last year clearing a single-track, mountain bike path through the dense pineland of the 11,500-acre Jonathan Dickinson State Park. Hard-core stump-jumpers have been coming to the former Camp Murphy army base, just north of the Palm Beach line in Martin County, since the early 1990s. But it wasn't until Mark Nelson was named park manager later that decade that work began on the long-awaited trail. As former top dog of the Oleta River State Recreation Area, a mecca for mountain bikers in northeastern Miami-Dade County, Nelson had experience with the lunacy of the off-road set. So far, with Nelson's support, Club Scrub members have cleared more than five miles of trail. They hope to have an additional ten opened before year's end. Because the trail is a work in progress, each visit brings a new surprise. In late February, for instance, bikers could take a roughly ten-foot-high jump off a concrete pad that was left behind when the army camp closed in 1944. Marked with a red sign warning, "Experts Only," the jump proved to be too extreme, says Club Scrub president Steve Bucina. "No one can do it," he adds. "We'll probably put a ramp down the back side." But even without such practical adjustments, the trail offers far more than your average trek through Florida wilderness. It winds around the remains of barracks and other buildings once occupied by servicemen who were sent to the outpost for jungle warfare and radar training. Some hills are actually old bunkers. As you pedal through the place, ponder this question: Which is worse, training in South Florida heat or fighting a war?
Last summer Grand Prix Race-O-Rama was bought by the Boomers! amusement park chain, which already had a location in Boca Raton. The place has been given a facelift, and a wooden roller coaster, the only one of its kind in South Florida, was built. In addition to the go-karts that have whizzed through the place since the Race-O-Rama days, bumper cars, boats, batting cages, and a rock-climbing wall provide plenty of fun for kids of all ages. The SkyCoaster drops riders from dizzying heights, and the Blender turns one's insides into mush. For fun-seekers without a need for speed, four 18-hole miniature golf courses beckon. If you prefer your fun indoors, step into the casinolike arcade, which offers hundreds of video games, from state-of-the art fighting games to old-school classics such as Centipede. On a budget? Ten dollars gets you unlimited video games, bumper boats, and miniature golf on Tuesdays. Add another fiver and you can drive like the pros on the NasKart race track all day long.
Get a brass ring about the size of a silver-dollar pancake. Tie one end of a four-foot string to the ring and the other end to a hook in the ceiling. Make sure that your ceiling hook is positioned so that the arc of the ring just grazes a nearby wall. Now hang an upturned hook on the wall. Take your ring and walk to the opposite side of the room and swing the ring so that it catches the hook. That's all there is to the Bahamian pastime of ring toss. It's an incredibly simple yet maddeningly difficult test of hand-eye coordination that actually seems to get easier the more you drink. If you don't believe us, try it yourself at places including the Sail Inn, 657 George Bush Blvd. in Delray Beach, or the 1889 Old House, 300 E. Ocean Ave. in Lantana. Don't bet with the locals, though. Some regulars, especially at the Sail Inn, can hook the ring with their eyes closed.
Maybe because it stands between two intimidating neighbors -- the Millionaires' Row of lake-to-ocean mansions to the north and the luxury-condo wonderland to the south -- this pristine little strip of land along A1A remains everything a public beach should be, even in the height of season: uncrowded, clean, and quiet. You park your car (at a dollar an hour, admittedly a bit of a turnoff) in a small lot at the foot of a rising slope of park land dotted with picnic tables under scattered oaks and palms. Then take a quick hike over the ridge line, where the only amenity is a short series of thatched-roof huts, and make a sudden drop down to the water -- and that's it. No hot dog stand, no fishing pier, no T-shirt shop. Just sand, water, you, and a happy little group of others in the know (and in little else) soaking up the sun. Shhhh.
Location, location, location. No bicycle shop has a better spot than this gem of a place, and owner Mark Quinn knows it. "We're 100 yards from the trail," hesays, motioning toward the nearby Intracoastal Waterway, where bikers, joggers, walkers, and 'bladers cruise along a roughly four-mile paved path that takes them within ogling distance of some of the priciest and best-manicured real estate in the nation. But while the magnet for Quinn's shop is the Palm Beach Lake Trail, the friendly service and varied stock keep people coming back. "It's Palm Beach, and most people aren't looking to buy, so we have to do things kind of differently," says Quinn, age 41, who began working at the shop when he was 15 and bought it nine years ago. Doing things differently means giving customers the chance to rent a $2700 replica of the Trek bicycle Lance Armstrong rode to victory in the Tour de France. (It goes for $25 an hour or $99 a week) Or maybe it meansrenting bicycle-powered surreys that will accommodate two adults and three kids (also $25 an hour) or four adults and four kids ($45 an hour). But in addition to renting and selling expensive and novelty bikes, Quinn deals in basic beach cruisers, fixes flats, and sells the typical assortment of bells, whistles, baskets, and locks -- all at very non-Palm Beach prices. In that respect location isn't everything.
All right so this is South Florida, not the Bahamas. But what's the point of owning a boat if you can't do a little island-hopping? The Palm Beach County Department of Parks and Recreation has made it easy for boaters to feel like true nautical people by offering a chance to cruise the Intracoastal Waterway for the day, then tie up and spend the night away from the madding, landlocked crowd. Peanut Island, long a haven for day-trippers, has been turned into an official but not officious destination for boaters. For $16.50 per night, boaters can tie up at the 20-site campground, pitch a tent, grab a shower, and sleep under the stars with the water lapping nearby. While reservations are recommended for the campground, less organized types can use primitive camping sites that are available on a first-come, first-serve basis. The primitive sites are free, but they don't come with picnic tables, grills, easy access to bathrooms, or any guarantee of availability. Those trying to regain their land legs can stroll along a 1.25-mile path that circles the island or visit a bunker that was built for President Kennedy just in case the Cuban Missile Crisis erupted into nuclear war while he was staying at the family compound in Palm Beach. For those who don't want to spend the night, the island is a perfect place to spend the day. Drop anchor and swim in the perpetually placid waters, then look for shells along the beach or hike some surprisingly hilly terrain. Located just inside the Palm Beach Inlet, the spoil island marks the beginning of some of the best cruising waters on the Intracoastal. Head north and watch as the waterway widens, mangroves replace high-rises, and civilization -- as we unfortunately know it -- disappears. (Wannabe visitors who don't own boats can get to the island for five bucks by calling the Sailfish Marina Water Taxi at 561-683-8294.)