Best Free Yoga Class 2012 | YOGiiZA Karma Yoga | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Miami | Miami New Times

Take a cleansing breath, young disciple; you are among friends. Yogis and newbies alike will find a warm mat and a warmer welcome at YOGiiZA's Karma Yoga Wednesdays at 6:30 p.m. Each week, gracious hosts Dawn and Mark Oliver invite tuned-in members of the community to their organic-clothing headquarters. There, open-hearted students benefit from a local instructor's karmic investment. A new class leader volunteers his or her time every week; past events have featured Arianne Traverso's AcroYoga, during which attendees learned to help their partners "fly" with grace, balance, and bone alignment, and Jennifer Pansa's Budokon Primary for advanced practitioners. Donations are welcome and, in the spirit of good karma, are often donated to animal sanctuaries or other charities. Guests are also encouraged to bring vegan or vegetarian dishes to share at the casual potluck and social, held Indian-style on the floor after class. Space is limited, so be sure to RSVP by emailing [email protected].

Lucky's Place is the Jimbo's of the Everglades — or technically, of the Big Cypress National Preserve. And proprietor Lucky Cole loves it when you stop in, browse the general store, grab a beer, take a seat under an umbrella, eat some barbecue, and peruse the hundreds of nude female portraits the 60-something-year-old has been photographing most of his life. Lucky lives on-site with his wife Maureen, and women from around the world visit to have their naked pictures shot on his property full of vintage and rustic backdrops. Naked ladies pose in front of the antique Coke cooler, in the outdoor shower, on an old motorcycle, and even in the slow-flowing waters of the grassy river near his home. He even has a (non-nude) shot of a young Eva Longoria. There's also a "redneck hotel" where you can stay the night in swampy paradise. Everybody is welcome at Lucky's, which is (usually) open to the public Saturdays and Sundays. It's a short drive west from Miccosukee Resort & Gaming and a long way from reality.

In the earliest days of civilized Miami, this area north of downtown and west of Biscayne Bay was all citrus agriculture and pineapple plantation. Today it doesn't get more urban. Along NW 71st Street, there's no bike lane to speak of, and you'll be riding between the Upper East Side and Liberty City, so this isn't a bike ride to take at night. But if you can weather the traffic and the shady-looking characters, there's magic on this trip. The view changes from mid-1900s residential architecture to bombed-out blocks of alien warehouses to foreclosed blocks of empty project housing. The proud Miami Northwestern Senior High School, a Miami educational landmark, looms near the road. You can stop for a bite and a cool drink at three excellent joints — Dogma, with its gourmet frankfurters; the Caribbean oasis of Naomi's Garden; and Miracle Fry Conch Fritters, a soul-food HQ. NW 71st Street might not be the prettiest stretch of Miami, but damned if a bike ride through here isn't a trip right to the urban soul of the Magic City.

What makes the perfect run? A beautiful course that's free of cars, rabid dogs, and bicycles is a good start. A great, ever-changing view helps, as do plenty of friendly fellow runners and walkers. Throw in good lighting for evening runs and a forgivable surface that's easy on the knees. There's at least one route that matches all of those dreams: the Miami Beach boardwalk from 23rd to 46th streets. This stretch of wooden walkway is elevated above the shoreline, allowing the ocean winds to cool even the hottest summer run. There's also an ever-changing view of bathing beauties, kite surfers, power walkers, artists, crazy people, and every other walk of life sharing the beach scene. Run the entire route and back for a solid four-miler. Bonus: When you're finished, you're close to about a million places to celebrate with a cold beer.

OK, so forget the two cops who recently tried to render aid to a stopped car and instead got shot by a crazed bandit on Florida's Turnpike. Pay no attention to the fact that the state legislature renamed it in honor of Ronald Reagan, the president who changed the tax structure and really caused the lasting economic mess we are in today. In just about every way possible, this 450-mile highway that runs through 16 counties just stinks. Not many people remember the St. Petersburg Times (now the Tampa Bay Times) won a Pulitzer Prize for Public Service in 1964 for describing the luxury living of the guys who ran the Turnpike authority — and the fact that the price of the damn thing was four times their projections. On top of everything else, today people on the Turnpike just drive too damn fast. Try puttering along at 65 miles per hour. Just try it. Motorists will flash their brights at you. They will honk and hassle you. You just can't go the speed limit on this road. If you do, you're as good as dead.

This narrow two-lane road cutting through the heart of Miami's Shorecrest neighborhood is like a living, breathing time capsule. It's a place where you find yourself slowing down to take in the rich history of one of Miami's oldest residential communities. A hard run becomes a light jog. An intense bicycle ride turns into an easy-going journey. A stressful auto commute transforms into a scenic cruise. You'll find a mix of MiMo-style residences with abundant tree canopies, and pre-World War II estates with massive lush settings, including one of the last Miami-Dade homes made of coral rock. You'll cross a small bridge over a tranquil inlet that leads into Biscayne Bay. It's the perfect spot to rest.

Miami is a fast-developing city, where old buildings are quickly demolished and replaced with shiny new ones. But the 25,000-acre Aerojet Dade Rocket Facility, an industrial relic of Miami's past, has remained virtually untouched for decades. In the 1960s, Aerojet manufactured rocket boosters here, but the plant was shut down in 1986 after the company lost its contract with NASA. Now the facility sits empty, rusting away and unprotected. It's a popular place for scrap metal thieves, graffiti artists, and young urban explorers looking for a weekend adventure. Three miles into the facility stands a building that houses a silo with the SL-3, the world's largest solid-fuel rocket booster ever built. Exploring Aerojet's factory isn't exactly legal — but then urban exploring wouldn't be half as much fun, would it?

True story: The sun sets every day over all of South Florida. But that doesn't mean all sunsets are created equal. You call that wan, pinkish glow you glimpsed through your office window at 7:45 last Tuesday a sunset? Hell, no. Give this a shot: Late in the afternoon, hop into your car and point it south. After you hit Homestead, stick on U.S. 1 for a few more miles until the first greenish specks of the Keys start popping out of the ocean. Take the very first, poorly marked exit, hang a right after the underpass, and cruise into one of the area's least-talked-about gems: Gilbert's Resort Tiki Bar, a thatched-roof oasis of beer and rum nestled into a moon-shaped bay. Grab a Corona, plop down on the wooden pier, and watch closely what happens: That, my friend, is a sunset.

If you are an intrepid boater, you load your fishing pole, kids, and GPS and head out to sea Saturday mornings in search of wahoo. If you are more like us, you stow your Weber grill, some burgers, and maybe a few dogs and putter around Biscayne Bay for five minutes before pushing up on a spit of island, jumping into the water, and relaxing a bit. Or a lot. Maybe you head to a small island just south of Oleta River State Park and cook while your buddies or little ones paddle around in the water. Biscayne Bay is peppered with small picnic islands. Some — such as Monument Island — are popping party scenes with loud reggaeton, while many others are tiny, quiet oases. Wherever you stop, you'll drink a few beers and fall asleep afterward, and when you wake, you'll be as red as a lobster that fell into a pot of boiling water. But you'll be happy. And this is why summer in the Magic City is grand.

FLA Live Arena photo

In the mysterious alchemy of professional sports, it's often damn near impossible to determine what turns a losing streak into a glittering championship run. But in the case of South Florida's suddenly successful hockey team, the special ingredient is clear. When the Florida Panthers signed Tomás Fleischmann last summer, the left winger's career was in jeopardy. He had shown flashes of offensive-minded brilliance with several other teams, only to miss large chunks of the two previous seasons with potentially fatal blood clots. The Panthers were also in bad shape, earning the dubious distinction of becoming the first NHL team to fail to make the playoffs for ten straight seasons. But ever since signing the 28-year-old Czech, the Panthers seem to have finally grown a furry feline pair. The team fought its way back into the postseason this year thanks in large part to Fleischmann, who during the regular season led the team in shots on goal, goals, and points, and finished third in assists. The left-winger played in every single game.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®