Baseball in our area has always been about spring—long, sunny afternoons at McKechnie or Ed Smith that combine the thrill of big league names with the simplicity of the pre-season. I considered myself a veritable James Dean every time my grandma helped me ditch school to spoil me with peanuts, lemonade and hot dogs in her perennial seats right on McKechnie’s first base line. And all of Sarasota was buzzing with pride this year when the Orioles took the field at the beautifully restored Ed Smith Stadium.

Now, though, summer’s in on the fun. The Pittsburgh Pirates’ Single-A affiliate is wrapping up its second season as the Bradenton Marauders, meaning McKechnie finally has life beyond April. I still can’t help but smile every time I’m driving through Bradenton and see the lights glowing over 9th Street—there’s something terrifically nostalgic about a baseball stadium at night.
 

And it’s the perfect summer activity: cheap, outdoors and ridiculously relaxed. Minor league baseball means you’ve probably never heard of the players and you don’t have to fret about the game’s outcome. You don’t even have to like baseball—the crowd dynamics and dusk sky alone are worth the trip. I love the sport, but after a few innings I find myself spending equal time watching people and staring aimlessly at the outfield grass, thinking about absolutely nothing.

I was there Monday night to watch the Marauders take on the St. Lucie Mets (it’s okay, I had never heard of them either). A strong breeze toward center field animated the flags against a sky of evolving oranges, pinks and purples—something you’ll never find at that artificial capsule of a stadium in St. Pete. The Marauders won the night, 11-3, but that was really just an afterthought to good food and great company.
 

There’s still a little time if you haven’t made it to a game yet: They start their last regular season homestand Thursday (you can see a schedule here). And as of last night, they’ve scored another trip to the playoffs—two in as many years of existence isn’t bad—starting next Tuesday. As September ushers in the upcoming season, I can’t think of a better way to take a long, slow breath of summer.

Whether you sincerely want your children to have a fun, social and educational summer experience…or you just want to get rid of them for a bit while school’s out, summer camp is all part of the season. So how do you make the quintessential Sarasota summer camp? Why, put the kiddos on the water, of course.
 

Morning at the Sarasota Sailing Squadron.

Despite growing up here, I never learned to sail, and it’s one of my big regrets—especially remembering as I do all the times I’ve been heading down the Ringling Causeway toward St. Armands and seen the armada of little sailboats making their way around City Island. That, it turns out, is Sarasota Youth Sailing’s summer camp.

Now based out of the Sarasota Sailing Squadron, Sarasota Youth Sailing has been around for decades, and their summer sailing camp, frankly, should be requisite for any Sarasota kids. The five-week sessions teach ages five to 18 the principles of sailing—a sport that’s both basic (boat + sail) and infinitely nuanced.

Sarasota Bay is, after all, an ideal sailing destination—calm waters and warm weather year-round mean the area should be as big for sailors as it’s recently become for rowers. And there’s something about sailing that seems so self-sufficient—a way of understanding and working with nature rather than just powering through it.

Although I’ve always feared the corollary to that, which is, if you don’t understand nature or can’t work with it, what’s to keep you from being carried out to…wherever?
 

The launch.

But now that I’ve had a chance to ride along in a chase boat during one of the camp’s classes, I’m much more comfortable with the whole idea. “These [sailboats] really don’t go that fast,” says Ross, a camp instructor, from behind the wheel of one of the supervisory motorboats that help corral the campers (and tow them when they fall behind). Plus, when you see an eight-year-old manning his own sail and tiller, well, hopefully you gain some confidence in your own abilities.
 

Some lagging little sailors get towed to their destination.

The youngest campers go as a group on a single boat to observe the basics of sailing and being on the water. From around eight to 12, the kids go solo in a seven-foot “Opti,” with a single sail, a tiller and a daggerboard (a removable keel to keep the boat from sliding sideways). Older kids can eventually graduate to two-person crafts.

In addition to the basic techniques for sailing and navigating with, across and against the wind, the kids learn safety measures (“The first thing we show them is how to upright a capsized boat,” says Ross) as well as, of course, independence, responsibility and a healthy respect for nature. Sharks, crabs, osprey, manatees, dolphins and more are common sights during camp sessions. It’s peaceful and meditative out there—a state of mind that can’t but help in the development of pre-teens.

SYS has produced number of elite sailors over the years, including one of the top Opti racers currently in the country as well as kids who are sailing for schools like Stanford and UF.

The SYS camp actually draws a lot of kids into sailing who otherwise never would’ve had a chance to experience it. In fact, many families become involved after one child attends the camp and learns what sailing is all about.

Of course, as I’m sure we’ve all noticed, school’s just started, so the time for camp is over. No worries: there’s always next summer. And for kids who’ve already had basic sailing instruction, SYS has year-round programs for a variety of ages and levels. Check out sarasotaysp.com for sailing programs and upcoming regattas.
 

Man, the weather this past week has been exactly the kind of thing you need to survive in the Sarasota off-season. I, along with my Survival Guide compatriots, have been touting a lot of outdoor activities in the summer time, but sometimes the fun of summer is…getting away from it.

I admit it feels a little counterintuitive to tell people in Sarasota to spend time inside. But summer takes a different kind of mindset, a kind of heat hibernation to get away from, as I’m fond of calling it, the relentless, oppressive sunshine. This isn’t the energetic, event-filled hustle and bustle of the season, which gets kicked off with Thanksgiving and Christmas shopping and theater openings and galas and long busy nights of crowded restaurants and bars spilling out into the streets. There’s fewer people around in the off-season, everything moves a little slower, and so many days seem bleached and blinding with bright, white heat. Makes me long for a cool, dark cave.
 

The Hi-Way soothes me.

I’ve made no secret of my love for a good dive bar, college pizza joint or backdoor sandwich shop, and those are the best kinds of places to hide away from the summer—where it’s cool and dark and there are neighborhood-y people there, but not so many people that it feels like they’re stealing your air and upping your body temperature.

The Hi-Way in Bradenton is my ideal dive bar—scary enough that you’d drive by it a thousand times and never considering going in. And that adventurousness is part of the fun of a good local joint. (See also: The old Broadway, now long gone, facing 41 north of downtown with a tiny parking lot and bars on the windows.) I love the low ceiling, the minimal lighting and the low-key friendly crowd. Ask for Becky; tell her Hannah wants some chicken livers.

I lived two blocks away from Gillespie Park’s Maximillian’s Cafe for a year and a half and couldn’t summon the courage to give it a try. The building looks like a combination of a body shop and the frat houses at Stetson. Turns out, it’s a local go-to. Awesome sandwiches, equally popular with utility workers, Ringling College employees and downtown professionals. Another place where the close quarters make you feel safe and comfortable.
 

CCB surveys the menu at the Flying Dog.

The Flying Dog, in Mark Famiglio’s string of newish warehouse-type buildings abutting the airport on Tallevast Road, is too mod and too high-ceilinged to be a dive, but like Maximillian’s, it’s on the corner of an un-restaurant-y building, and it draws as many manufacturing employees and businesspeople as it does folks who live in the neighborhood across the street. Plus: no windows. And the vastness of the airport area makes for some pretty intense sunlight, so you can look out through the glass double doors, take a bite of turkey-on-rye and sip from your pint of Flying Dog (so good) and think, “I’m sure glad I’m not out there.”
 

CCB at Rico's.

Rico’s on North Tamiami does killer delivery and take-out service to its neighborhood of college students, sitting as it does between New College, USF Sarasota-Manatee and Ringling College. But I like to eat in—it’s a big space with lots of…stuff. Pizza boxes and old arcade games and…whatever, just sitting around, like a restaurant-in-progress. You can watch the cars zooming by on 41, as though people are frantically looking for you, but you’re safely hidden here. Fantastic pizza, too—some of the best in town.

Of course, Sarasota’s quintessential slightly scary hideaway is just a bit south of Rico’s: The Bahi Hut. Everybody talks about it, which you’d think would steal away some of its neighborhood flavor, but it still feels absolutely local: The low lights and tiny space, half filled by a horseshoe bar; the kitschy décor and rock garden display through a sliding glass door. And the crowd, usually more boisterous than the other places I listed—blame the mai tais. I have to admit, I don’t feel right going to the Bahi when the sun’s still out. But even at night, it’s a cool little oasis that lets you feel safely tucked away from the hot summer air.
 

My weekday morning routine usually goes something like this:

Wake up. Hit snooze button on alarm clock. Stumble out of bed and over to the tea kettle. Heat water for tea while in the shower. Get out of shower, put on clothes. Make tea. Scarf down a bowl of cereal. Head to work in a state of autopilot and dive head-first into responding to emails, writing Facebook posts and working on web projects.

Of course, there’s variation from day to day. But that’s pretty much it. Not very glamorous, right?

And until last Tuesday, not once did my day ever begin with me putting on my bathing suit and flip flops and driving to Bird Key Park so I could meet up with Sarasota Paddleboard Company’s Bob McFarland for an early-morning stand-up paddleboarding lesson.  Although now I think I want that to start happening more frequently.

By now, you’re probably familiar with stand-up paddleboarding, or SUP. Though the sport has been around for years, it’s becoming so popular that McFarland, who is also an experienced surfer, now hosts a yearly “SUP Fest” that draws hundreds of paddleboarders—young and old, experienced and amateur—and features  races, a poker run, live music and an awards ceremony.

To paddleboard, you climb on to what is basically a long surfboard while gripping a high-tech, lightweight paddle. (“You want to invest in a good paddle,” McFarland advises. “It makes a huge difference.”) Then you paddle out into the water, and slowly and carefully stand up on your board. (McFarland notes that a wide, relaxed stance over the center of your board is best, and the most helpful in keeping you upright). From there, you use the paddle to help the board glide through the water. And it’s right at that point—right when you realize that you’ve got your balance and that all that’s surrounding you is sparkling blue water and gorgeous natural scenery—that you start to feel something close to invincible.

Initially, I thought the paddling part was going to be similar to kayaking, but it’s actually quite different. Because you’re standing rather than sitting, you’re using different muscles. Your core is completely engaged the whole time. Even leisurely paddleboarding is a workout—and a full-body workout, at that.

And you’re not limited to simply standing on your paddleboard. McFarland and yoga instructor Ami French also offer a weekly yogaboarding class. I haven’t tried doing sun salutations on the board yet, but the thought is inspiring.

I mentioned in my last blog post that living in Sarasota has turned me into someone who loves being on—or by, or in—the water. Paddleboarding, for me, was the ultimate expression of that. The morning we went, the bay was smooth as glass, and the sky was clear and blue. Every so often, a bird would flutter by or a fish would jump out of the water, but aside from that, everything was quiet. I managed to completely turn off the thoughts that are normally pulsing through my head at 8:30 on any given weekday morning and just let myself enjoy the experience. And that is why I wouldn’t mind beginning every morning on top of a paddleboard, with the width of the bay in front of me and below me and the city skyline behind me. It was perfect.

Do you paddleboard? Any tips for beginners (like me)?  And do you feel that same sense of peace when you’re on a board, too?

This year’s SUP Fest will be held on October 1, 2011, beginning at 10 a.m. For more information, visit www.sarasotapaddleboardcompany.com or email bob@sarasotapaddleboardcompany.com.

August sure came out of nowhere, didn’t it? It seems like just last week I was writing about settling down after all the travel, looking forward to lazy hours of reading, hammocks, kayaks and golf. Now August is here, hurricanes are announcing the beginning of summer’s end, we’re diving into preparations for our October issue, and I still feel like I’m catching my breath—those golf clubs remain hidden in the closet, building up an impressive display of dust.

That’s not to say the past few weeks haven’t had their moments. I finished a couple books, took a kayak under and around the Green Bridge in Bradenton and even finished the third season of Friday Night Lights. Perhaps most importantly, earlier this week I performed my duty as a foot soldier in the Great Anna Maria Island Burger War.

This is a very specific war, so let me explain. If you don’t know what you’re hungry for and want a menu that might include burgers, the island has plenty of options—Ed Chiles’s restaurants (the Beach House, Sandbar and Mar Vista) have decent offerings in perfect settings, and the convenient Café on the Beach is literally that—on the beach.

But if you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are craving a burger, we’ve entered an entirely different discussion. In that case there are only two names you need to know: Duffy’s and Skinny’s.

Really, in my opinion, there’s only one name you need to know: Duffy’s.
 

You can see I’m not exactly neutral here, and once you join the debate you might understand why. This is a line-in-the-sand kind of conflict—relatives stop speaking over lesser matters. Both restaurants have been around since the 50s, so it’s not unusual for a family to pick a preference and pass it down through generations. Every once in a while you might even hear a sneer like “Oh, they’re a Skinny’s family”—AMI’s version of class-based condescension. Think Hatfields-McCoys and you might get an idea of the scale.

Things got especially heated about nine years ago when Duffy’s lost its lease across from the Manatee Public Beach, and Skinny’s chose that spot for relocation. Now Duffy’s is farther north, across from the Holmes Beach City Hall, where the regulars tend to speak of the competitors to the south as meddlers and supplanters—when they speak of them at all.
 

I’ll put aside my bias, though, long enough to say that both are worth frequenting. Competition breeds quality and loyalty, meaning at either one you’re guaranteed hearty, greasy goodness surrounded by people who quickly feel like family. The atmosphere is relaxed, with a locals-only vibe you won’t find at the beachfront tourist havens.
 

They share certain strengths, like wide, juicy patties on toasted buns with plenty of optional toppings and an impressive variety of beer for accompaniment. Skinny’s stands out for its one-of-a-kind onion rings, while Duffy’s has received national attention for its seasoned grill and its role in the island’s history. (Long-time proprietress Pat Geyer, who died last year, was the mayor of Holmes Beach from 1990-1994. “Good burger, Ma” was a standard farewell  under her watch, and her daughters, always ready to share stories with their visitors, are carrying on her legacy.) But remember: If you're at Duffy's, don't even bother asking for fries—you'll probably get silence in reply, or a few regulars might lean over and remind you that "The burger's enough."
 
So next time you’re on the island and craving a burger—not to mention cold beer—you know where to go. And they’re both just a quick walk from the sand, which means you can catch the sunset over the Gulf and head back just in time for seconds.

Duffy’s Tavern
5808 Marina Drive, Holmes Beach, FL 34217
(941) 778-2501
Cash only; closed Tuesdays.

Skinny’s Place
3901 Gulf Drive, Holmes Beach, FL 34217
(941) 778-7769
Cash only; closed Mondays.