Florida October 2007 Day 2

Friday, 10/10/07
Approach St. George Island

Wake up and leave the motel in Tampa. Drive approximately 6 hours through mostly deserted roads lined with palms, live oaks and loblolly pines (Actually, I don't think they were loblolly pines, but I like saying it, so I'm going with it. Loblollies lined the leisurely lane.)

It drizzled for the later half of the day, which, in conjunction with lots of loblollies and lack of sleep the night before, apparently leads to a paternal lulling. Simply said, Dad started dozing, which is not a good thing for the driver to do. So we switched, and I discovered some things I'd never realized about Florida and Floridians.

Realization #1: Roads in Florida are STRAIGHT. Driving in the Midwest, you get used to straight and flat, and seeing for miles. In Florida, it's straight and flat and like driving through a tree-lined topless tunnel. It reminded me of the Darwin award story of the man who was driving an RV, put in on cruise control, and went to the back to make a sandwich. (Cruise control ≠ Auto pilot, idiot!) Of course, his story ended poorly, but I could totally see it working on some of these roads – barring road kill or other drivers, of course.

Other drivers, you say? Why, what a good segue (that’s pronounced segway, by the way) into my other realization!

Realization #2: Drivers in Florida are CRAZY. Speed limit: 70 MPH. My average speed: 85 MPH. Number of Floridians passing me: All of ‘em. I watched one impatient SUVer pass me…and the car in front of me…and the car in front of them…and regardless of the fast approaching oncoming car, proceeded to pass the ‘slow’ car who was holding our entourage down to a respectably senior citizen crawl of 75 MPH.

This, coincidentally, reminded Dad of a time when he was in Florida in his youthful heyday. He was driving at night from one coast to the other, and saw an oncoming motorcycle. About twenty minutes later, the lights separated into two motorcycles. And finally, maybe 40 minutes after the original headlight sighting, a single car passed Dad on the highway.

Anyway, we coordinated with the rest of the extended family and hoped for a grocery store before we reached St. George Island, aka The Forgotten Coast. A co-worker had visited the island in July and assured me there was nothing even remotely close to the island. Armed with this knowledge, we were contemplating turning around and retracing our steps to a Publix near Tallahassee (located thanks to Shelia, my GPS), when we almost passed an IGA. I’m a fan – it’s the first store that I’ve found sells my favorite deodorant (short story: Soft & Dri with PowerStripe in Passion Flower (or any other scent) no longer seems to be in stores in MD, and alternatives are not satisfactorily de-odorizing.) From now on, I’m buying deodorant in Florida. (But since that’s not practical, I bought two at the IGA.) Aside from my beloved deodorant, we also purchase an insane amount of food and alcohol, considering that we’d be at the beach house a grand total of 39 ish hours, from Friday at 6 PM to Sunday at 8 AM, with at least 2 supplied meals.

While we were in the IGA enjoying the deodorant, not finding pantyhose, and reveling in a grocery store that sells wine, it started to really rain, and it proceeded to rain until we reached the island.

I suppose I should take this time to explain something. My GPS is pretty awesome. But in order to find St. George Island, I had to go to the map, find the Florida panhandle, and then zoom and scootch the map until I found the island. Typing in the island name just didn’t work. Typing in the beach house address didn’t help. And knowing where the beach house rental office was didn’t help us find the beach house. So, we hung a right once we got on the island, which took us through a small wading pool in the middle of the road, and off to the Apalachicola (which, by the way, my spell check knew!) end of the island, which was – you guessed it – the wrong direction. So we hung a U-ee, re-braved the kiddie pool, and drove about 4 miles until we found the gated community that was our weekend home.

Along the way, we passed a home called ‘Divine Porpoise’ - officially my favorite home name on the island. Then we arrived at the community, and turned into Del Mer’s driveway. I had just enough time to take a long-awaited shower before the post-beach-rehearsal rehearsal dinner, to which everyone of the 50 something guests were invited. We loaded into the limo-buses, and trundled back the 4ish miles to a bar/restaurant for crab-stuffed mushroom caps, calamari, and cheese-stuffed jalapeños, followed by half-burgers, half-cheeseburgers, and half-grouper sandwiches. While there, we also saw hummingbird moths that could eat my cat (not really, but they were much bigger than Maryland hummingbird moths.) I have a video, but it's not very clear:

After the rehearsal dinner, we sat out on the porch of our beachfront cottage, enjoying the waves and the moon on the ocean (gulf). I went out with a horrible flashlight and my camera to look for shells, and found sand crabs instead. I got the picture of this little guy:

But I got blinded by the flash, and when I could see again, he was gone, and I was suddenly in fear of my life. Or, at least, in fear for my toes. Plus, I suspect the sensation of sand crab crunching under bare feet is unpleasant. So I returned to the porch, and took a million pictures of the moon, having just recently discovered that I can allow up to 15 seconds of light exposure. I LOVE my camera! And here’s why:




PS. I was totally digging the early alliteration. And a lot of it was totally unintentional!