I listened to the sound of my tires as they gripped the dirt, enjoying the rush of speed and wind on my face. As I rode my mountain bike in Alafia River State Park, all was well. That’s when I heard the croaking. Hmm, that’s not a bullfrog, that’s a gator. Wait, why is he croaking from over there? And over there? And, and yikes! 

Obviously, I lived, but it got me thinking. Healthier brains would balk at living on a giant sandbar, with an environment only slightly less threatening than Jurassic Park, and choose to live instead in more normal places, like Portland. But I have a Floridian brain now, and in order to be happy, I choose denial. 

Yet lest I go too far, and in the interest of tempering our denial with a little bit of reality, here are a few signs that you might want to purchase your plane ticket, hop a train, or just steal the wagon from pioneer days and skedaddle.

1. The ground beneath you begins to sink. If you’ve managed to not stand on an ant pile (good luck with that), I suggest you move to another spot. If that sensation continues at your new spot and then you try one more time for bad luck, I’d say you gave standing three solid attempts and should go. Florida’s finally sinking. 

2. You pull back your blinds to see that, in place of your perfectly-manicured lawn, you have a yard full of what looks like little green mittens groping their way toward your doorbell. Poison ivy wants you to leave.   

3. I’m not entirely sure about this one because it involves lizards and lizards are shifty. If you’re dragged away by a horde of lizards, they could just be getting ready to celebrate your quinceañera, which in my case would be 30 years too late. Sadly, it’s more likely that they’re planning on turning you into lizard boots. More than one pair, of course. They’re natural conservationists.

4. The sun doesn’t rise. Now that I’ve written this, I realize that this one applies to most places on earth.

5. You turn on the light in the kitchen and don’t see a roach skittering across the floor. This is not a good sign; don’t think it is.

6. You go to Disney, and there aren’t any lines. While you might get to ride more than three rides in one day, you won’t live to tell anyone. I don’t want to get too philosophical, but if no one witnessed you riding more than three rides, it might not have happened, unless you witnessed a plastic tree fall over in a plastic forest in Animal Kingdom. 

7. There aren’t any birds out. Scratch that – if you don’t have any birds blocking traffic, pecking on your car, or, as I saw the other day, a peacock pecking at its own reflection in a discarded mirror someone had propped up for the trash.

8. You turn on the radio and can’t find a country station. While I think this would be glorious, it’s similar to the roach scenario.

9. You go three consecutive days without getting a grain of sand in your eye. 

10. You step outside to find your house is surrounded by a perfect circle of mushrooms. I’ve been teaching my son science this semester. This is a bad thing.

11. You wake up without allergies. 

12. It’s dusk, and you’re not a meat-stick to a horde of marauding mosquitoes and/or deer-flies.

13. You read a column about life in Florida, and the columnist isn’t complaining about something.

14. There’s a new inch-wide freckle in the middle of your forehead, and you’re not worried.

15. You find yourself filling a bucket of water and packing a whack-load of sand-balls ready to throw at anyone who walks by your house. 

16. You regularly stick pencils up your nose and ask your children if you have a booger. Scratch that, you’re just trying to homeschool during COVID-19. 

17. You visit Kennedy Space Center and begin yelling, “When are we going to go to space?” only to be informed that not only have we already been to space but you weren’t invited. Heartless.

18. When you order ice cream, the vendor looks at you like you’re crazy and says, “You’re at Jiffy Lube, sir.” I blame the heat on this one. Plus, my wife had asked me to get the oil changed. And I had a lot on my mind, like the birds and what flavor I wanted. 

19.  For your final sign, which if you survive, you should leave ASAP, if you begin regularly sharpening sticks and sauntering into the woods to find Bigfoot. Once or twice is okay. 

While I tried to make this fairly comprehensive and it’s a good start, I suggest you watch the Nature Channel, look up life in the Serengeti, and pretend you’re the gazelle. It’s what I did on my bike ride, and I’m like super sane now.