I have sort of inexplicably found myself in Pensacola Beach, Florida. It wasn’t intended to happen. My daughter goes to visit Grandpa over spring break, however usually we have work and such going on, and are unable to go with her. However, this year at the last minute, the planets aligned, the Gods smiled upon us, and the Fates said “It is Good”, and we left for the beach.
Along the way there were a few weird sites. The following was observed at the Georgia welcome center.
Im not sure why you need a string of peppers hanging in your vehicle. Is it some sort of air freshener? Are you drying peppers on the way to Texas? Does a car in the spring become an effective dehydrator? This is something, as a hiker, I might have to investigate. To heck with buying an expensive dehydrator, just leave the spaghetti sauce, chopped onion or chicken cutlets on the dashboard in the hot sun. Maybe this is an effective air freshener for someone with a baby in the car.
Farther down the road, in Alabama, we saw a rolling DJ Trailer. WBAM – “Bubba’s DJ Service”. How appropriate. Unfortunately there is no picture to go along with this.
We have been taking pictures of Kaylee in front of this sign since she was old enough to stand on her own. Its surprising to remember when the sign was once taller than her. I do much prefer the Georgia welcome center to the alabama one. The restrooms are a lot nicer in Georgia. The people are pleasant enough here, so by all means stop in, get some tourist literature, but pee at McDonald’s.
So after ten months, I mean hours, on the road… we finally made it into Pensacola Beach proper. If you’ve never driven ten hours in a stretch, its quite an activity. In my younger days when metabolisms ran high, we passed the time eating our way to the destination. Not so much any more. Other than a few cookies, some goldfish crackers and those sandy Krystal Chicks outside Augusta, Georgia we didn’t eat much. I say we, meaning my wife and I. The kid decided to munch the whole way down.
I reported my first bad driver too. Two big rigs from the same company decided to drive side-by-side for 27 miles, 5 miles under the speed limit. I couldn’t reach a complaint line, but I was able to find their “recruitment” number, and gave the truck ID numbers off the trailers. When one finally decided to get in front of the other, those of us driving behind them could be heard to give a resounding cheer, even over the 70mph winds passing by the windows.
Possibly the worst part of our route is the post-interstate drive from the exit to the beach. Its a long way through the interesting backwater towns of Flomaton and Cantonement. Emily, the GPS on crack, gets us through these places with a minimum of complaint. The same can be said for the drive home, although not as far, once we leave the interstate, even though we have a short time to go, that part of the trip sucks.
My wife was taking pictures on her phone, and I was driving, so we are left with pictures from a nine year old.
The beach ball water tower. Kaylee’s first full sentence was “I see the ball!” which happened to be this water tower. It needed painting, I guess, because they seem to be sandblasting the beach ball part off the tower.
My first day of Spring Break? I helped finish a report on Behavior Disorders. I have to write lesson on how to write police reports next. At least I’m doing all this in Florida. I may even have time to collect a few geocaches and some tar balls.