Sports & Recreation

A round-trip ticket to Barcelona: $1,600. A night's stay in Las Ramblas: $200. Parking your Honda by the train tracks alongside the Dolphin Expressway, watching airplanes land and take off from Miami International Airport, and daydreaming about your summer escape: priceless. Nothing beats the thrill of traveling, but watching airplanes soar just a few hundred feet above you and listening to the sound of their roaring Boeing engines sure comes close, especially when you're right outside one of the busiest international airports in the world. So the next time you want an instant getaway but are too broke to pack your bags and go, take a drive toward Perimeter Road, park your car, and enjoy the free air show.

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In a world where a nefarious con man had laid waste to his people's reputation, where a once great force had weakened, where haters doubted a football team's every move, one linebacker rose up to defend his turf. Miami Hurricanes productions brings you the inspiring story of Denzel Perryman, a Miami native who led his team in tackles, had six games with more than ten total tackles, was named first-team ACC, and bypassed the draft to do it all again next season.

"A one-man wrecking crew," claims ESPN.

"Adding his name to the all-time great linebacker conversation at the University of Miami," says State of the U.

"Instincts, quickness, and explosive hitting ability," raves CBS Sports.

Denzel Perryman: Year IV. Coming to a stadium near you in fall 2014. An Al Golden Production. Rated U for gratuitous swagger.

It's been tough to find a silver lining in the Miami Dolphins for the better part of a decade, what with all the suck that has washed over this franchise like a terrible wasting disease. Yet by some miracle, in 2013-14 there was actually at least one player who gave the Fins faithful hope. Cornerback Brent Grimes, who had missed 15 games the previous season after he tore his Achilles tendon while playing for the Atlanta Falcons, was signed by Miami last spring with the hope that he'd contribute a little if he could stay healthy. The 30-year-old Grimes not only contributed and remained healthy but also recorded 60 tackles and four interceptions, and never once allowed a touchdown to an opposing receiver. Grimes' renaissance earned him Pro Bowl honors, and he was rated the NFL's second-best cornerback of the season by prestigious football analysis website Pro Football Focus. Grimes' kick-ass season also garnered him a four-year, $32 million contract extension with the Fins. It was a despair-filled season for Miami, with a bullying scandal that brought embarrassment to the once-proud franchise, and yet another season of missing out on the playoffs. New changes have swept the Dolphins this off-season, and there's always uncertainty with this team. But at least we know that opposing receivers will be on lockdown for the next four years with Grimes manning the defensive backfield.

Some sports stars seem to fit seamlessly into their cities, like left hands into well-worn mitts. Derek Jeter was destined for Yankees pinstripes. George Brett was made for the muddy modesty of the Midwest. And Wade Boggs embodied Boston with his blue-collar attitude and bizarre superstitions, like eating fried chicken and mashed potatoes before every game. Under Jeffrey Loria, however, the Marlins haven't had much of an identity. Ozzie Guillen was supposed to imprint some personality, but he confounded Cubans by loving Fidel and lost everyone else by, well, losing games. Last season, when white-bread manager Mike Redmond was plopped atop a flavorless lineup, the Fish's season looked sure to be blander than your abuela's overbaked bacalao. But then, on April 7, after losing five of its first six games, the Marlins called up a young pitching prospect by the name of Jose Fernandez, and an otherwise insipid season suddenly got spicy. By now, you probably know Fernandez's story: Born into poverty in Cuba, he tried to leave three times but failed and found himself in jail. On his fourth attempt, he had to dive overboard to save his mother from drowning. But they made it, first to Mexico and eventually to Tampa. On his Major League debut, Fernandez fanned a rookie record of eight opponents. In another game, he struck out 13 — only to do one better his next time on the mound. He won a team-best 12 games with a miserly 2.19 ERA and an absolutely stingy .182 opponent's batting average. His National League Rookie of the Year award was the diamond atop another 100-loss season. But the real reason Fernandez makes Miamians proud isn't his pitching prowess. It's that the kid has character. Sometimes he's goofy — dancing behind teammates during interviews, joking with opposing players, or celebrating Giancarlo Stanton homers like he just won the lottery. Other times, he's deadly serious. In his last start of the 2013 season, Fernandez was cruising to a win over the Braves when they started talking trash. What did he do? He smacked his first-ever home run in the direction of that godawful dolphin sculpture and then told the Braves they could ride that thing back to Atlanta. Sadly for Fish fans, his 2014 campaign was cut short by Tommy John surgery. But if there's a reason to hope for the future of the franchise, it's his long-term future with the team. Fernandez fits the 305 like an old leather glove.

Seven seconds. The Miami Heat was seven seconds from losing its NBA crown and watching the San Antonio Spurs celebrate the 2013 NBA championship on the Triple-A home court. Heat fans were seven seconds from having their hearts ripped out of their chests and their souls condemned to a weary and sullen existence of pondering the cruel fate of their beloved team. The finals, to all intents and purposes, was over. Done. Kaput. The Spurs were up 95-92 and were seven seconds from the title. The home crowd was already exiting the building, the Spurs locker room was being covered in plastic for the champagne celebration, the ministage was being readied to be rolled out onto the court for the trophy presentation, and yellow tape was being unfurled to keep nonessential personnel from walking onto the court during the Spurs' coronation. Then it happened. Suddenly, before us, a dark horse! Its rider's name was Death, and Hades followed closely behind. They were given power over a fourth of the Earth to kill by sword, famine, and plague, and by the wild beasts of the Earth. The rider wore a robe dipped in blood. From his mouth emerged a sword in the form of a three-point shot. And the heavens shook. Ray Allen, AKA Jesus Shuttlesworth, hit the most epic three-pointer in Miami Heat history, tying the game and forcing overtime. The game, along with the series momentum, shifted in the Heat's favor, and the home team eventually won its second NBA championship. But not before Ray sealed his iconic status in Heat lore forevermore by hitting "The Shot" and then yelling at the arena security people to get rid of that damn yellow rope.

Although most of New Times' Best Of designations are necessarily subjective, this one is empirically true: CJ Jackson is indeed the best boxer in Miami. Last year the middleweight, who trains at Biscayne Boxing and Showtime Boxing Gym, won the National Collegiate Boxing Championship, which means he's one of the best in the nation. "What makes him effective is his IQ," trainer Mickey Demos says. "I can show him something once and he gets exactly why and can do it." And yes, Jackson is just as much brawn as brains. True, having 4 percent body fat probably has something to do with his success, but there's no doubt Jackson has a bit more going for him than his fleetness. Dedication combined with a dilettante's attitude seems to be a common thread in his life. He served five years in the Navy, attended acting school in L.A., and is the first person in his family to attend college. The biology major thinks the subject is a bitch but says he puts as much effort into becoming a doctor as he does his boxing. And it sounds like he'll have no problem with his anatomy classes. "Boxing is an extremely technical sport with a thousand exceptions to every rule," Demos says. "But with CJ, it's like giving someone an NFL playbook and he can memorize 60 in a day."

Since his teens, Jorge Masvidal had dreamed of getting paid to throw fists, feet, knees, and elbows. "I wanted to scrap with people for money from the time I was a kid, like 13 or 14," he admits. And that's exactly when little Jorge began training for a life in the fight game. He boxed and wrestled, and then he got deep into mixed martial arts. But because there was no real amateur MMA scene in Miami at the time, the native 305er took to the streets at 18 years old, fighting backyard brawls for free and even becoming hood famous by beating Kimbo Slice's prized pupil, Ray, in two back-alley, bare-knuckle bouts. The only problems: He wasn't making any cash, and he had to constantly watch out for the fighters and bettors burned by his wins who wanted to stab, shoot, or bash him with a brick. So Jorge went pro in 2003, tore through the Absolute Fighting Championships till 2006, and then signed a $20,000-per-match deal with the now-defunct Bodog Fight league through 2007. Soon he had made his bones by knocking out Pride/UFC vet Yves Edwards with a brutal head kick. He had ascended to the ranks of Strikeforce. And he had even TKOed a guy at the Playboy Mansion. But since the dawn of 2013, Masvidal has been an inked fighter with Dana White's Ultimate Fighting Championship, the biggest cage in the MMA biz, adding three wins and only one loss to his 34-fight record. Today he is Miami's longest-tenured prizefighter in the UFC. As Jorge says: "I always knew I wanted to get paid."

Long before the season began, pretty much everyone knew the squad in Miami was the best in the nation. They weren't just defending champs; they'd also annihilated everyone in their path on their way to the title. The only real question was how they'd deal with the pressure of overwhelming expectations for a two-peat. Nope, we're not talking about the Miami Heat. Even LeBron didn't leave a path of destruction and domination quite like the Cyclones from Booker T. Washington High School did in 2012. The team from Overtown went a perfect 14-0 and won its dynamic head coach, Tim "Ice" Harris, his second state title. With the team's on-field leader — Harris' own son, quarterback Tim Harris Jr. — coming back for 2013, everyone expected excellence. And the Iceman more than delivered. His squad again went a perfect 14-0, topping 40 points in all but four games en route to yet another state title. This time around, they added a cherry on top: an undisputed national title thanks to a top ranking in all seven major high school football polls. After eight seasons and a ridiculous 96-10 record at Booker T., Harris is moving on to Coral Gables this year as an assistant to Al Golden at the University of Miami. Feel free to get those expectations up, Canes fans — Harris clearly doesn't mind that weight on his shoulders.

After three full periods of hockey, an overtime, and the first two skaters of a shootout, nothing separated the Florida Panthers and the Buffalo Sabres in a January game in New York. The score was still knotted at 1, and now both teams had come up empty on their first two penalty attempts in the shootout. The Sabres' third try also rattled off the keeper. The Panthers were up. Score and they'd win. Miss again and they'd end with a disheartening tie. There was only one choice to step up to the puck. Brad Boyes skated to center ice, his teammates leaning over the boards and watching intently. He skated toward the goal, weaved to the side, and snapped the puck. It pinged loudly off the post, hit the goalie in the back, and — for what seemed like seconds — hung in the air. Then it slid quietly over the line. Panthers win! "You gotta be kidding me!" the Panthers announcer shouted. That's exactly what a lot of fans would have said if you'd told them preseason that Boyes would become the beating heart of the Panthers offense this year. Boyes has always been one of the most effective penalty shooters in NHL history, but after two monster years in St. Louis from 2007 to 2009, injuries and inconsistency stalled the winger's career. Until his first year in South Florida, that is. On a rebuilding squad, he stayed healthy and led the team with 20 goals. Only one of those rattled off a post and a goalie to win the game, but — as Boyes showed time and again on the ice this year — it takes talent to catch breaks like that.

Yes, Miami is full of places to shop, eat, and look fabulous. But most of those places aren't all in a row on one street. If your dream day in Miami is to walk for hours buying awesome clothes, eating great food, and taking in the local sun-drenched scenery, take a stroll down Lincoln Road. It features all types of specialty shops and restaurants, including SushiSamba, Dylan's Candy Bar, Five Napkin Burger, Armani, Williams-Sonoma, and Y-3 Yohji Yamamoto. When you get tired of spending your money, you can take in some culture at the art-deco-designed Colony Theater and the New World Symphony. Or just sit on a bench and watch the people go by. You'll see beautiful models, awesome street style, and, sometimes, street performers. It's a cliché to say that a place "has something for everyone," but if any locale lives up to that saying, it's Lincoln Road.

Miami Avenue is like the city's aorta. It's the coursing path tens of thousands of drivers use to travel from north to south each day. But since March, that aorta has been blocked at perhaps its most critical point, the bridge over the Miami River. Seems the metal grating and other parts were decaying and must now be replaced. What does this $5.6 million project mean for you? Well, if you are trying to get from Brickell downtown or vice versa, you may be outta luck... that is, at least until March 2015, when it is forecast to be finished. The northbound lanes are closed now. When that is done, they'll start work on the southbound part of the project.

The phrase "urban bike ride" may stir up gritty images of fixies swerving through traffic, scoping grimy graffitied warehouses, and hopping curbs to find their way through the concrete jungle. But this is Miami, the nation's only urban area nestled next to two national parks, and its urban cyclists deserve a gloriously green trek to match. Enter Old Cutler Road, the handsome, mansion- and royal-palm-lined street that cuts through moneyed estates and passes some of Miami's finest parks along the way. Start your ride at Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden and head south beneath the lushly shaded foliage, hook east through some of the best old architecture in Miami-Dade County, and roll south for just under six miles until you hit the Deering Estate at Cutler, the glorious Old Florida home of Charles Deering, on the waterfront. An urban ride that goes from tropical garden to waterfront estate? Must be in Miami-Dade, son.

Where else can you see pimped-out cruisers with banana seats and raised handlebars, giant speakers blaring music while hundreds of bicyclists block traffic, and LeBron James leading the pack? Nowhere! So try Critical Mass, my friends! Bicyclists usually meet at Government Center at 6:30 p.m. for a 12- to 18-mile ride. As Miami Critical Mass states, it's not an "us vs. them" event; it's a ride that encourages cycling and reminds drivers to share the road. This energetic bunch bikes the last Friday of every month, and all levels of rider are welcome. If you didn't prep your body for the summer beaches, it's time to bike your butt into shape.

Feel the trees gently sway as you jog through nature trails at Black Point. Let the ocean breeze caress your face as you reach the end of the trail. Revel in the beauty of ospreys, egrets, and other birds flitting around the park. Walk by the marina and spot manatees swimming alongside the boats. Treat yourself to the Black Point Ocean Grill. Buy a beer, sit on the grassy hill, and watch drunken boaters attempt to remove their craft from the water. Then get up and start running again.

Both nature- and city-lovers agree that Crandon Park is a great place to paddle. Not only do you get the best views of the city but you can also lose yourself in Key Biscayne's ecosystems. Whether you choose to venture under the Rickenbacker Causeway or take a tour through the mangroves, you won't be disappointed. Experienced riders can brave the choppier seas of the south and catch a glimpse of the Cape Florida Lighthouse. Prices aren't bad: $20 for a one-hour rental and $45 for three hours. If you want to get your ashtanga on, find your inner Zen with stand-up paddle yoga. Private kite-boarding lessons are also available. This is truly an adventurer's playground.

This ride never gets old. Start on the perfect pavement pushing south on Washington Avenue from Lincoln Road. Then cut over to Ocean Drive (and its equally brilliant asphalt). Then just keep going south. If you're the daring type looking for an adrenaline rush, roll down the median as luxury vehicles drive mere inches from you. If you'd rather stay away from traffic, there's a nice, smooth pathway. On a sunny day with an easy breeze, there's hardly anything more satisfying than the sight of the Port of Miami to your right and the Atlantic Ocean on your left at the South Pointe boardwalk. Leave your board on the shore, have a quick dip in the waves, pull your towel out of your JanSport, and enjoy the sights for a little while. Then, after catching your breath, get back on the road.

This is one of those courts where you can find a lively pickup game every day. And with three full-size courts on the greentop, there's usually room for you to start your own game too. Because it's just off Biscayne Boulevard, it's easy to find, and there's plenty of free parking. However, since the courts themselves are set so far back from Biscayne, the atmosphere is way more relaxed than you'd expect. The place feels like a playground in the middle of the forest. Plus, if you take a few minutes off the court and explore the park, there's a fine view of Biscayne Bay. And that bay breeze is superrefreshing when you've just sunk the jump shot of the decade.

Golf is so darn expensive these days. Just a round can cost you more than $150. So try the nine-hole, 3,100-yard course in Greynolds Park. You can walk it after 3 p.m. (or 2, when it's not daylight-saving time) for only $10. Juniors under age 18 always play for $7. If you want to hit around in the morning, it's $22 with a cart and $14 without one. That's right, you cheap son of a bitch: $14! The course is open from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. every day.

Fun rarely comes cheap, especially in a city like Miami, where the entertainment industry is driven by the economies of high fashion and luxury. You can spend your money on expensive bottle service or oceanfront condo rentals, but nothing compares to the thrill of Miami Skydiving Center. For $299, you can indulge in a tangible experience that won't leave you aching for a glass of water to cure your imminent hangover. Miami Skydiving Center provides guests with a means of exploring the city from an aerial perspective, granting a view that gives any South Beach hotel a run for its money. Discount rates start at $299 for groups of two or more; book online and save $50 per person. And all jumps come with a complimentary breakfast at Taste Bakery Café! Who doesn't like a free breakfast after their morning adrenaline rush?

What better fits the bill for a relaxing, inexpensive outing than a picnic? For the perfect low-key day outdoors, channel your inner Yogi Bear — or stoner — and head to David T. Kennedy Park. Located just off South Bayshore Drive, this 29-acre park contains a treasure hard to come by in this city: lush, clean, and very green space. Equipped with paths and plenty of shade, it is a pleasure to stroll through while searching for a place to sprawl. David T. Kennedy provides something for the whole family: outdoor exercise equipment, sand volleyball courts, a playground for kids, and a fenced-in dog park for pups large and small. It also offers the kind of beautiful bayfront views usually reserved for yachtsmen and women. Benches line the paths, and a wooden walkway takes visitors right over the water. The area's two parking lots fill up quickly, especially on weekends, so consider bringing out the bikes. If picnic planners want to forget the packing part of lunch, grab some takeout grub at Monty's Raw Bar (2550 S. Bayshore Dr.). And most important, pick up some legendary frosted lemonades from A.C.'s Icee's truck, which is parked at the entrance daily — worth every bit of sugar.

It's not always easy to connect with Mother Nature when you're sitting in your Civic in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Federal Highway, your necktie cutting off your circulation as you head to work at your Brickell high-rise. But take a quick ride up I-95 and you'll hit Oleta River State Park. Florida's largest urban park feels anything but urban. Hell, it could be Colorado, if Colorado had mangrove forests and sandy beaches. There are countless ways to spend a day (or night) at this sprawling green oasis. Take two wheels on the park's heart-pounding, gut-wrenching, off-road mountain-bike trails; bring your S.O. on a romantic nighttime kayak tour; rent a SUP on a summer afternoon; spend the night in an air-conditioned cabin; sun yourself on the sandy beach. It's a one-size-fits-all park — a lush wellspring of outdoor recreation that's well worth the $6 entrance fee.

Most people have never heard of this hidden canine oasis, but it's worth finding. Nestled next to the Blue condo tower, the waters of Biscayne Bay, and the Julia Tuttle, it has a quality of stillness. This is a small park, but there are few people here — it's usually just you and a couple of other dog walkers. So it's easy to let your pups loose and relax on one of the well-placed benches in the shade under the broad canopy of trees. A few words of advice: Make your way here before or after rush hour — so as to avoid that horridly depressing sight of so many poor Miamians sitting in a hot standstill. This is a very quaint but still metropolitan place to run the hounds.

There's nothing standard about the Standard's pool. It features an underwater sound system so you can enjoy a relaxing swim to the beat. There's also an arctic plunge with 50-degree water that will stimulate your circulation and metabolism. Or you can really relax in the Roman-waterfall hot tub with an almost-too-hot-to-handle temperature of 103 degrees, topped off with an eight-foot waterfall. It's perfect to relax those sore muscles. But wait, there's more! Just around the corner is the mud lounge, where you — or someone you're comfortable with — can cover your body in different kinds of muds as you bake under the Miami sun like a piggy. And after you're done detoxing, there are high-pressured hoses to blast the dirt off you while you receive a hydro-powered massage. Best of all, you don't even have to book a room. The Standard offers day passes ($75 Monday to Thursday, $125 Friday to Sunday) that allow you to enjoy all of this plus the indoor DIY spa treatments. It's basically a pool and spa day rolled into one. Well worth the price, if you ask us. There's also a monthly membership program. Call 786-245-0860 for details.

Miami Beach has endless options on the sand, but if you're looking for a favorite that's close to the South Beach scene, South Pointe Beach is hard to beat. Although you can't swim in the waters in Government Cut, you can paddle about anywhere north of the pier. And on the sand, you'll find tranquil areas to sunbathe. Or maybe not. But you will find the most attractive bathing-suit-clad bodies anywhere in the Western Hemisphere. If you need more entertainment, nearby Nikki Beach provides a nightclub experience right on the sand, while a short walk away, Smith & Wollensky provides a fabulous brunch with views of the departing cruise ships.

Ashley: OMG, Blaire, so you know how I'm all into juicing and yoga, right? JugoFresh, that juice place we always go to during our lunch break, is hosting a free monthly yoga class, Yoga del Barrio, and it's smack in the middle of the 'Wood. You should try it out with me!

Blaire: Sounds interesting. Is it, like, yoga for artsy people?

Ashley: Kind of... I mean the sesh definitely has that yoga-studio feel to it. The only difference is you're wearing spanky pants and doing the downward-facing dog in front of a bunch of onlookers in the Wynwood Walls. Now that you mention it, it kinda makes you look like a piece of artwork.

Blaire: Um, what do you mean, Ash?

Ashley: It's a community-flow yoga class, so you're twisting and stretching your body in all these different angles. To outsiders, it must seem like there's some sort of performance art going on.

Blaire: I guess... But I'm not really a yogista.

Ashley: Relax, Blaire. Dawn B. — she's the instructor, by the way — is a pro. She keeps her eye on you while you do all those teepee twists and sun salutations, so you won't mess up your back or anything.

Blaire: So when's the next class?

Ashley: It's the third Wednesday of every month at 6:15 p.m. All you need to do is show up and bring your own mat, like that floral one you have in your room. Trust me, you'll thank me later.

Blaire: They say meditation is the best exercise. I guess I'll try it out.

Here's the bad thing about Naples: Nothing happens there. Here's the good thing about Naples: Nothing happens there. So when you need a complete break from Miami's nonstop lifestyle, your best bet is just a two-hour drive across Alligator Alley. Even the things that do happen are geared toward relaxation. The town claims more golf holes per capita than anywhere else in the world. Its ten miles of beach are far quieter than those found on the East Coast. And the Gulf of Mexico is a completely different type of boating and fishing experience. Sure, there're some decent restaurants here (check out Fifth Avenue in Old Naples) and even a bit of nightlife (pay a visit to Mercato, sort of their version of Midtown Miami — except beware of cougars), but basically Naples is the place you go for a weekend to live like an 80-year-old retired Republican from Ohio. Which, as a Miamian, is sometimes exactly what you need.

There is a good handful of reasons you should make the 75-mile trek across the state to reach Big Cypress, but you want to know the best one? Wait for it: river otters. Have you ever seen river otters in the wild? They're like lanky puppies sliding around lithely up and down the streams, making funny noises, and having more fun than you will ever understand. Add to that the fact that Big Cypress' wild terrain has a way of connecting you with a much older sense of this part of the world, the sort of environs we would have known centuries ago. The Florida Trail passes through here, so the hiking can be glorious (during the winter months, of course, because the mosquitoes are deadly). Try the Tamiami Triathlon, which involves hiking here, bicycling at Shark Valley in Everglades National Park, and paddling at Biscayne National Park. A free punch card is available at the main desk.

Despite its seaside locale and tropical temps, Miami can feel like nothing more than an urban jungle, jam-packed with high-rises, snarled traffic, and concrete. But drive far enough down SW Eighth Street and you'll enter another world: the Everglades. Everglades Safari Park has served as a gateway to Florida's glorious iridescent "River of Grass" for more than 40 years. This sprawling mecca of airboat rides and animal education is where the National Park Service sends bigwigs for a breezy spin: John McCain, Joe Biden, Ludacris, even the Kardashians have caught a ride. Hop on one of the boats and sail across the endless stretch of still water and open sky. Feel the sun on your skin, the wind in your hair, and watch the world rush by at 30 mph. You'll see spatterdock, duck potato, pond apple, and sawgrass; great egrets, grackles, and gators. Back on land, you'll get schooled in all things alligator and their awe-inspiring attributes — no "wrestling" shows, no cheap tricks. No matter what, you'll leave with a new reverence for Mother Nature and the majestic nature of our own backyard. Nothing could be further from your white-knuckled morning commute.

Miami is filled with interesting characters. There's that guy who rides around on a motorized bicycle, that man on the Metrorail jammin' on his violin, that dude who walks around Hialeah carrying a banjo and Stetson hat — the list goes on. But if you really want to keep entertained for hours, there's Calle Ocho. Every year in March, the mamis and papis of the Magic City crowd SW Eighth Street with their skin-tight white shorts, Cuban-flag bikini tops, chancletas, 305 pride tats, and gold teeth for the largest block party in the country. Fashion aside, you'll find middle-aged Cuban men shaking a pair of bright-yellow maracas, dancing with a mailbox; guys wearing a snake around their necks; ladies twerking in the middle of the street to reggaeton; impromptu conga lines; Celia Cruz doppelgangers; and even lonely lovers walking around with a blow-up doll. It may happen only once a year (the 2015 Carnaval Miami is scheduled for March 15), but with so many people to gawk at, you'll be set for the next 364 days.

To many a college kid, the Grove brings back memories of drunken shenanigans, hookups, and binge drinking. But nestled somewhere among Sandbar, Mr. Moe's, and a canopy of live oak trees lies a piece of overlooked history — the Barnacle Historic State Park. Built in 1891 by yacht designer and Coconut Grove pioneer Ralph Middleton Munroe, this is the oldest house in Miami-Dade County still standing in its original spot. Originally from New York, Munroe got his first taste of the Magic City while vacationing here in 1877. Like most first-timers, he fell in love with Miami but, of course, had to return home to carry on business. Munroe married his first wife, Eva, in 1879 and had a baby girl. A few months after the birth of their daughter, Eva contracted tuberculosis. In hopes of recovery, Munroe left his daughter in New York and sailed south, bringing his wife, her sister Adeline (who was also diagnosed with TB), and brother to the warm SoFla climate. The four lived on Biscayne Bay until 1882, when Eva died. Upon his return to the Big Apple, he learned his daughter had also died. That's when Munroe decided to leave the city and make his home on the bay his permanent residence. The commodore bought 40 acres of bayfront land and a yacht, The Kingfish, for $400. Prior to constructing the Barnacle, Munroe built a boathouse on the same land in 1887, where he lived until the main house was completed. About three years later, he went on a sailing trip and met his second wife, Jessie Wirth. He put a ring on it in 1895, and the two began their life at the Barnacle. Originally, the house was an octagon-shaped, one-story structure raised off the ground on wooden pillars. It was built with salvaged lumber from the bay's shipwrecks. But two kids and 13 years later, in 1908, the house was lifted and a new first story was built below. The Munroes called the Barnacle home for the remainder of their lives. In 1973, a relative donated the landmark to the good ol' state of Florida. So the next time you're out in the Grove, party like it's the 1900s and check out the oldest house in the 305.

Remember how much you used to love running endlessly in circles and jumping around like a kangaroo? Not much has really changed since then. Hidden in a maze of warehouses and factories in Doral is every kid's paradise — Sky Zone. Because the place is like a trampoline on steroids, kids will literally bounce off the walls as they flip and somersault in the main room of the 16,000-square-foot indoor trampoline park. Sky Zone prides itself in its Ultimate Dodgeball Championships, which explains why there are three courts dedicated to the sport. There's also a Sky Slam area where future NBA stars can unleash their inner LeBron James and dunk those balls like a boss. If you have amateur swimmers on your hands, there's a sea of foam cubes for youngsters to dive into. When they need a break from all that jumping, they'll cool off with a game of air hockey or virtual skateboarding in the arcade. And whenever you get hungry from watching all of those rugrats jump around, hit up the Sky Café for some pizza, cupcakes, and pretzels. The kiddie party runs Monday through Thursday from 3 to 9 p.m., Friday from 3 to 10 p.m. (with the Sky Jam for big kids 16 and over from 10 p.m. till midnight), Saturday from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. (with JumpaPooloza from 10 p.m. till midnight), and Sunday from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. The prices aren't too bad either and include a pair of bright-orange SkySocks. Ten dollars buys 30 minutes of jump time, $14 gets you an hour, 90 minutes will cost you $18, and two hours go for $21. The Sky Jam is $19 and includes a 90-minute jump, two slices of pizza, and a fountain drink. The Saturday-night JumpaPooloza is $17 for two full hours. At the end of the day, everyone wins — the little ones knock out, and parents score a kid-free night for themselves.

Once you've made your way offshore and the sprawling cityscape is but a distant backdrop, it's time to drop over the side and find yourself immersed in the surreal. Neptune Memorial Reef, located about three miles off Key Biscayne, is among the largest man-made reef projects anywhere. Planned to ultimately span 16 acres of the ocean floor, it also happens to be a cemetery underwater. It was designed to have the futuristic look of Atlantis, and while it's tough to say whether designers succeeded, it's definitely unique. There's an eerie calmness to it all, much as an old cemetery on land might have, except that the statues and ornamentation seem all the more otherworldly 40 feet underwater. This is particularly true when the fish get curious about your visit.