May 18 – “Day fifteen: Getting’ historicalized”

We woke up in Savannah.  We’re not in Florida anymore, Toto.  Yep.  That’s the Savannah that is in Georgia, not Florida.  Sorry, but Florida just ran out of lighthouses in our path, so we kept going. 

 

We decided to extend our stay here so we could take in their historic downtown area as well as Tybee Island and a fort or historical site here and there.  Tybee.  No idea how to pronounce that.  My guess is tib-bee.  May be tie-bee.  Of course it could be tee-bow.  I heard he got a job the other day.

 

First we hit Fort Pulaski.  Very cool Civil War site.  Pretty well-restored, and you can see from the embankments and slits in the walls just what the Rebs saw when the Yanks started bombing them from a mile and a half away.  That would be from none other than Tybee Island.  More about that later.  The Rebs had to surrender when the cannon fire was getting too close to the ammunition and gun powder stores. 

 

Also nearby was a monument of a different kind.  This one marked the site where John Wesley landed and preached his first sermon in America.  Guess we missed that sermon.  We didn’t arrive until Monday.

 

Then it was across the river to … yup.  A lighthouse.  The Tybee Lighthouse, to be exact.  176 steps.  Done.  Check.  Somewhere on those steps we met a firefighter from Philly (that’s how he introduced himself).  He and some buddies were among those from his area deployed to Texas after one of the hurricanes.  Thanks for your service, my friend.

 

For lunch we went to the North Beach Bar and Grill.  It was some local cuisine recommended by the lighthouse clerk.  I had a crab cake sandwich.  Chris ordered grilled fish tacos.  She couldn’t eat the tacos.  They were covered in salt along with the other spices.  I gave her my crab cake and I ate the fish.  Not what I expected.  We asked what kind of fish it was.  “Swai, a kind of basa.”  Of course.  We looked it up.  It’s some kind of a Vietnamese catfish.  Did I mention that I ordered crab cakes?

 

Next we were going to go to another fort, but found out that it is only open Wednesday through Sunday.  So we switched to a historic area on the western outskirts of town called Wormsloe State Historic Site.  Honestly, there really wasn’t all that much history, but they had set up some very nice hiking trails.  It is the site of the most famous pictures of Georgia when they want to boost tourism.  A mile long roadway with monstrous oak trees forming a canopy.  It is really pretty.  Oh, and on one of the hiking trails we met a couple from Burleson, Texas.  Small world. 

 

We closed out with supper at Cracker Barrel.  Chicken and dumplings for me.  Veggie soup for Chris.  Then we spent the evening charting out plans for the next few days before we meet up with Josh and Christi in Alabama.  Well, trying to.  Here we go …

 

Nahum 1:7 says, “The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble.  He cares for those who trust in him.”

 

Father, thank you for the folks we met from Texas.  Always a welcome feeling to know we aren’t the only ones venturing out.  Amen.

May 17 – “Day Fourteen: We shoulda gone to Iguana’s”

We got up and headed right out to the next thing on Chris’ must see/do list.  That put us at the Cumberland Island National Seashore visitor’s center.  We decided not to get on the ferry to go across to the ruins on an island.  If we had gone, the return ferry didn’t leave until after 4 p.m.  But the visitor’s center had what we came for … a stamp.  Check.

 

And then … yup.  Another lighthouse.  But this time we had to cross the Georgia state line.  We made our way to St. Simons Island and the lighthouse there.  This one only had 129 steps, so it was a piece of cake after 203 and 219.  We even passed a fire fighter from Tennessee who saw my cap and said, “This must be easy for you.”  He couldn’t see the back of the hat that identified me as a chaplain and not a firefighter.  Same family, though.  I encouraged him in his work and both of us continued our climb – me up and him down. 

 

Once we finished the grand tour, we asked the lady in the gift shop for a recommendation of some local cuisine.  She mentioned two places, Iguana and Barbara’s.  Barbara sounded a little more like something we were prepared to take a chance on.  Their PR claims that they were the originators of the crab cake.  Well … they got off to a bad start.  After waiting an hour, our food finally came out – cold.  We sent it back.  And in just a few minutes he returned with our now hot food, perfectly microwaved.  Wow.  The guy from Restaurant Impossible would have had a coronary.  We went ahead and ate, though.  Chris was feeling a little queasy and needed some food in her, and I was just plain hungry.  We shoulda gone to Iguana’s.  No five stars from us. 

 

We moved on to our next stop, making our way through the town of roundabouts, St. Simons.  On to Fort Frederica.  It was named after my grandmother.  Or was it my dog?  It has taken on an Americanized spelling.  “A” at the end instead of the German “E.”  OK.  OK.  Chris looked it up.  It was named after some Prince of Wales guy.  After following our golf cart escort (not nationally approved.  He just happened to be driving through town) for a long time, us and a hundred or so other cars behind us were finally freed when he turned off.  It didn’t take long and we arrived.  It reminded me of visiting a battleground like Gettysburg or something.  Lots of empty spaces and some ruins in between.  But there was a map to follow with a really detailed history.  James Oglethorpe used to come there.  And both Charles and John Wesley preached there.  Cool history. 

 

Since we still had a day or two to kill before meeting up with the Waco Vaughan’s in Alabama, we headed north.  We finally ended up in Savannah.  So what is happening in Savannah?  Or better yet, what has happened in Savannah?

 

Romans 8:35 says, “Who shall separate from the love of Christ?  Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?”

 

Father, it has been lots of fun to be off book and just find places to see and things to do as they come up.  Amen.

May 16 – “Day Thirteen: High Steppin’ and Chocolate Tastin’”

We started this day at the St. Augustine lighthouse.  216 steps.  I guess that means it wins the step battle, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult a climb as that 203 stepper.  This one had eight rest landings on the way up.  And amazingly, they were there on the way down as well.  When we reached the top, the guy saw my Whataburger shirt and right away assumed we were from Texas.  Way to go, Whataburger.  I guess the Florida versions don’t sell the t-shirts.  We went out onto the balcony, and Chris almost lost it.  There were 26 mile per hour winds out of the north.  Aside from it being cold, the guy told us that when it reaches 30 mph, they close it to children.  Any higher than that and they close it to humans of all kinds.  On the way up we saw a story printed on the wall about one of the previous keepers.  I simply must share it.

            “Cracker Daniels, son of light keeper C.D. Daniels, found out cats can float when he attached a parachute to his sister’s cat, Smokey, and dropped him from the top of the lighthouse.  Smokey survived the descent, but the cat was very frightened and went missing for several weeks.”

 

Gotta love trivia like that.

 

Next we went over to the Whetstone Chocolate Factory for a tour and tasting event.  The made us wear masks.  That was bad enough.  But we also had to wear a hairnet.  Embarrassing.  But they didn’t stop there.  I had to wear a beard net.  Really? Humiliating.  I should have followed the example of one of our compatriots and wrapped the hairnet around my hat.  Speaking of compatriots, we met a young couple who are obviously our cousins.  Last name was Vaughan.  Even spelled it right. 

 

To start the tour we were subjected to mind control.  We had to watch that episode of I Love Lucy over and over and over.  You know.  The one where she and Ethel are working at the chocolate factory and end up having to stuff the candies into their clothes and mouths.  Funny episode … the first seven times.  After that … pure torture.  The only good thing was, they alternated between black and white and colorized versions.  Of course the black and white version was not in sync between sound and visual.  Extra annoying. 

 

The tour itself ended the torture.  The tour guide was about 90 years old and a really funny, deadpan guy.  We also got to tase about five different kinds of chocolate, and we saw the entire manufacturing process.  Oh, and we rescued a wayward sheep that was wandering around the purchase area.  They at least had had pity on him and gave him a tiny t-shirt.  I’m not sure how excited he was about leaving, though.  After all, he WAS living in a chocolate factory.

 

We finally left St. Augustine and headed for the next stop in our trek.  Timucuan Preserve National Monument.  The monument being preserved was Fort Caroline.  It was the site where some French incursionists were run out of Florida by Spain’s Menendez, the guy from St. Augustine.  I think …

 

Next we drove around and through some marshes and forests on a terrible road full of ruts and holes.  Our goal was the Kingsley plantation.  It was indeed in the middle of a really beautiful swamp.  The buildings were all closed for Covid.  Chris got a stamp, though.  Check.  We also walked around the grounds.  We saw a big ol’ gopher turtle poking his head out of his hidey hole.  Then we saw a big woodpecker smacking his head against a tree.  That was pretty much it, unless you include the lady who offered to take our picture.  Not like we were trying to do a selfie or anything.  She just felt like it would be a really good idea for us to have a picture together right about then.  She tried her best to be ultra-professional.  Hope she wasn’t.

 

As the day ended up, we were only about 35 minutes from our hotel.  And right across the freeway from there?  Cracker Barrel.  And WalMart.  And any number of other stores and restaurants.  It felt like we were really downtown.  We chose Cracker Barrel again.  Old Faithful.  Only problem?  30 minute wait.  We were too hungry to go elsewhere, so we waited.  And were rewarded for our patience when our call came after only 15 minutes.  Meatloaf and veggies.  Good stuff.  And we were back in the hotel in plenty of time to check on the Astros.

 

Matthew 5:3 says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

 

Father, thank you that all of Chris’ boxes have now been checked.  Anything else from here on out is gravy.  Amen.

May 15 – “Day Twelve: St. Strand-ustine”

Yesterday was set aside to roam the quaint and ancient little burg called St. Augustine.  And it didn’t take us long to realize it was Galveston’s Strand – a regular St. Strand-ustine.  But before I get into that, I had a very strange wake up call from the Lord last night.  I mean literally, “Hey, you.  Wake up.”  It was sometime in the middle of the night.  I woke wide awake with an image of a couple in my head and the names Paul and Becky Neuhauser.  I have no idea who that might be, but I prayed for you during the middle of the night.  May God be with you, whoever you are.

 

We decided last night that there might be a little too much to do in St. Augustine to just stay one night.  So we extended our stay so we could go a little more slowly.  I went to the front desk to ask about the price.  And I found out that it would be seven dollars cheaper if I reserved through our Choice Hotels app.  I asked her to wait just a moment, and explained what I was doing.  She was patient and ever so gracious about it.  “Hey, saving seven dollars is saving seven dollars,” she intoned.  Such deep wisdom from such a young thing.  As soon as the order popped up on her screen from the main computer, she gave us the cheaper rate and let us have the room we were already in.  Thank you, Choice Hotels.

 

Our first stop was the Castillo de San Marcos.  No, we weren’t suddenly transported to south Texas.  This was the big ol’ fort that guarded St. Augustine for many years (The city, not the Christian).  It was built out of 16 foot thick blocks made of a conglomeration that was mostly crushed seashells.  Really odd material, but it sure did the job.  Still standing after hundreds of years, and still handling tourists’ footsteps daily.  The views of the sea from the fort were amazing as well.  The way it was constructed and where it was situated made it virtually impenetrable.  In fact it was never taken.  Pretty impressive.

 

Next stop was the Pirate’s Museum.  Aaarrr.  This one was almost worth the typically exorbitant tourist price tag.  Lots of memorabilia – knives and swords and coins and instruments of torture and death and the like.  Also lots of recreations of pirates and their daily lives.  We even got to fire a mock cannon.  Oh, and as a bonus, we found all the hidden artifacts (buried treasure), so we were rewarded with a piece of eight and a stolen Spanish jewel. 

 

From there we entered colonial St. Augustine.  It was an entire lecture/experience revealing what life was like from the time the Spaniards first settled there.  Our guide was Ty Pennington.  Well, maybe not actually Ty, but he could sure have passed for him.  Looked like him and even spoke and acted like him.  This guy wasn’t a carpenter, but he was a blacksmith, and he did show us how to fire an actual cannon.  I’ll take that trade-off any day that I’m in St. Augustine. 

 

We had some lunch at the Bull & Crown Publick House.  That’s their spelling, not mine.  Great club sandwich.  And Chris made quick work of her chicken pot pie.  Then we walked St. George Street and perused the Strand-ish shops.  Before we left we made a quick return trip to the Colonial experience because we forgot to climb the tower.  This one had a disclaimer warning heart patients and people who were claustrophobic and afraid of heights that this might not be for them.  Check all of the above for Chris, but she went anyway.  It was a piece of cake.  Way easier than those 203 lighthouse steps.  The hardest part of the climb (and of our earlier castle experience as well) was the wind.  It was a fairly strong north wind, so it got chilly.  I had to turn my cap around more than once to keep it from blowing off. 

 

Our final excursion of the day was supposed to be a tour of a winery.  We did get to go through, but all tours were canceled, and all it amounted to was three tasting stops as you walked on your own through the distillery.  No explanations of the processes at all.  We were disappointed. 

 

We ended the day back at Cracker Barrel.  Chris had some vegetable soup and I had some breakfast (pancakes and eggs and bacon).  Back to the room to crash for the night.  We still have a few more things to do around here tomorrow, so it’s time to get rested up, follow some Astros (On my MLB phone app), and sleep. 

 

Habakkuk 3:17-18 says, “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.”

 

Father, again I ask that you be with Paul and Becky, whoever and wherever they are.  Draw them close to you.  Amen.

May 14 – “Day Eleven: Warning … what??”

We left wherever that was we spent the night last night at a bit more leisurely pace than the last few rather frantic attacks.  Not that we didn’t get on the road and make some miles.  It was just a little less wild and crazy than feeling like we had to be somewhere and check off some boxes.  Hey.  My boxes are all checked.  All else is gravy.

 

We took an off-the-book route to the Canaveral National Seashore.  By off-the-book I mean we didn’t rely on good ol’ Apple Siri.  She wasn’t too pleased with our choices, so we just gave her some time off.  It was kind of fun to pull out the paper map and play with our own routes again.  We ended up passing right by the landing strip of the space shuttle.  That was over where the actual Cape Canaveral base was.  We weren’t heading there.  After all, we have both been to NASA back when it was everything space travel.  Of course from where we were, we couldn’t see anything.  These Florida jungles block views of everything.  They have a space launch scheduled for May 15^th.  We considered hanging around for that, but that would have entailed two days of doing essentially nothing.  As tempting as that sounded, we decided to forego the space ship and forge ahead.  It was fun.  Apple Siri couldn’t find us for almost an hour.

 

We finally reconnected with that online sweetheart and made our way to the Canaveral Seashore National Park.  Or something like that.  Our first stop was at what they called the Turtle Mound.  Not what you may think.  It was just a trail they have made through the jungle to the bay where you could hang out and stare at the water.  It used to be some kind of Indian settlement.  And I guess a turtle colony as well.

 

Next came the actual visitor center.  Yep.  Got the stamp.  Check.  Got another puzzle to work when we get back home, too.  Then we drove over to the place where we could hike to a historic house.  Except after we hiked there, it was closed for Covid.  Oh, well.  The hike was good.  Next we went to the beach.  The beach.  Can you imagine that?  A couple of Islanders making the trek to the beach.  Ok.  It WAS the Atlantic beach.  So there was that.  And it was more of that crushed shell stuff.  No sand.  Weird.  But I touched the water.  My own personal quirk. 

 

Oh, and we did pass a warning sign just before the beach.  It read: “Warning.  You may encounter nude sunbathing within boardwalk 5.”  When we approached boardwalk 5 a few miles later, I may or may not have excitedly told Chris to slow way down.  About that time I reached into the back seat.  She had no idea what was going on.  Ashe did slow down, then asked, “What is wrong?”  With continued excitement I might have said something like, “No!  No!  It’s just … we’re at boardwalk 5! I need to get the camera ready!”  She was not amused.  P.S.  The only nude sunbather we saw was an armadillo trying to dig a hole in the side of the road.  We stopped and I jumped out with my phone camera at the ready.  I snuck up on him from behind, snapping a few shots on the way.  And when I was almost right on top of him, I yelled, “Hey, you!”  He jumped straight up and took a good five leaps before he stopped.  He slowly looked back as if to say, “OK.  You got me.”  He posed perfectly for a wonderful photo for our memory book. 

 

From there we went to a lighthouse.  It was an hour or so down the road.  Ponce de Leon something or other.  We walked all the way up and back down the 203 steps.  Survived.  Oh, and … we got a stamp.  Check.

 

On to St Augustine.  On the way we saw the stands of the Daytona 500 Speedway.  We also saw a few Buc-ees.  What? 

 

Remember Farrah?  The advertising lawyer?  I think he must have read my blog.  We saw a lawyer sign that had pictures of both Farrah and Farrah both on it.  Glad I could help, Farrah.  It was only fair-ah.

 

John 14:27 says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

 

Father, thank you for the slower pace.  We have needed it.  Well, I have.  Amen.

May 13 – “Day Ten: Everglades III: Air Boat and Alligator Bites”

An airboat ride started everything off for us back in the Everglades yesterday.  It was well worth this whole trip.  Especially the left turns into the wind at full speed.  Nice and cool.  Speaking of cool, we had a pretty nice cloud cover for most of the ride as well.  Way easier to look for critters if you’re not dodging the heat.  And speaking of critters, we saw several alligators swimming around, so our captain brought the boat right up next to them.  I didn’t lean over the side to pet one, though.  Chris wouldn’t let me.  We also saw some blue herons, a purple something or other (starts with a “G”), a Florida gar, and some tilapia on the hoof, so to speak.  Oh, and we checked in at the gift shop.  Who should we find creeping around in there?  None other than Ally Gatore (pronounced Gah toe ree).  And in spite of April’s admonitions that I NOT bring this particular critter home with us (Ally is apparently not in the same category with Key West chickens), Ally is not one of the flock. 

 

A wildlife show of sorts was included in the price of the ticket.  It started with a chance to pet a red boa constrictor.  He’s a bad guy in the Glades.  He is a foreign import who tends to eat all the local snakes.  Next he showed off the two big gator guys lolling around on stage with him.  He had to wake them up to get them to snap at the food.  Hey, it was hot.  A nap sounded good to them.  Finally, he came out among the audience holding a baby gator named Snappy.  I got to hold him to (for a small $3.00 photo fee).  Don’t worry.  I still have all my fingers.  The had a rubber band around his mouth.

 

I did finally get to taste alligator.  Fried alligator bites, to be exact.  It was like chicken nuggets.  Good stuff.  Consistency was kind of like fish, but firmer.  It tasted like I imagine white meat chicken would tase if it was ever juicy. 

 

Next we stopped over at the Shark Valley Visitor Center to get another National Park Stamp.  Chris made the comment that getting these stamp things is kind of like being in   cult.  Scary.  Then it was on towards Miami.  Farewell, Everglades.

 

We entered Miami proper in the rain.  Well, I’m not sure how proper it was.  We were actually in the slums, complete with whole buildings “decorated” with creative paintings.  We just casually snapped photos like we intended to be there.  Why were we there?  Well, I may or may not have inadvertently typed in the location of the Florida Marlins’ baseball stadium.  It was a massive edifice towering over the shabbytown buildings around it.  We didn’t stick around there for long. 

 

We finally found US Hwy 1, our goal for this leg.  However, we were swamped with all the traffic.  Couldn’t even look from side to side, so we cut over to an interstate and headed to beautiful downtown … Stuart, Florida.  Not sure where that is, but we walked across the street to a Panera bread for some supper before settling into our brand new hotel room.  Literally, brand new.  The hotel has only been open a matter of weeks.  It is very nice.  Great place to end a long day.

 

Luke 6:45 says, “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart.  For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”

 

Father, thank you for new experiences … places and flavors and critters.  Amen.

May 11 – “Day Nine: Manny T”

Yesterday we started off with a visit to Fort Zachary Taylor.  Chris’ distant cousin on her mother’s side.  It was built during the Civil War, then used during the War of 1812.  They have unearthed some really cool canons.  And it has a pretty spectacular view as well. 

 

Chris took over the steering wheel, and we headed out of the Keys.  We stopped at Gilbert’s again for some lunch.  That’s the same place we ate with Steve and Susan last week sometime.  No idea what day.  I don’t even know what day today is.  The service was really slow for there to be hardly any crowd for lunch.  Chris learned not to order Mahi-Mahi in a place so close to Cuba.  Odd spices.  They kind of infiltrated the fried shrimp batter as well, but that good old stand-by took care of that issue.  What?  Oh.  Ketchup.  We also ordered a piece of key lime pie.  Last piece from the Florida Keys.  Still comes in about third, though. 

 

Then it was back to the Everglades to check out another visitor’s center.  Actually it wasn’t the center we were interested in.  It was the nearby marina.  It was allegedly harboring (see what I did there?) manatees.  At least there have been some sightings.  Well, 16 of 18 times the ranger has visited there, he has seen one.  That gave us an 11.1% chance that there wouldn’t be one there.  Pretty much our usual wheelhouse. 

 

As we checked in and prepared to show our National Park seniors; lifetime pass, the car in front of us drove on through after talking with the Ranger and paying the entry fee.  Bua as he left and we inched closer to the window, suddenly there was a flurry of activity from within.  And then, a siren sounded as if from a law enforcement vehicle in hot pursuit.  Except … the noise came from the building.  We expected any second for the whole thing to transform into a rocket car and take off after the apparent lawbreaker ahead of us, leaving us alone and meekly holding up our entry card.  But no.  Seems the car in front had paid just fine, but they took off without their receipt.  The ranger in charge finally declared it an “oh, well” moment and waved us through as well.

 

We found the marina with no problems, and it is official … we beat the 11.1% odds.  Manny T (he’s shy and doesn’t want his last name on social media) hitched a ride with us and will become a part of our critter family.  We saw his larger – much, much, much larger – counterparts at the marina.  Did I mention they were large?  They looked like huge floating slugs in the water that occasionally stuck their heads up for a breath of fresh air.  And since we actually saw said larger cousins, I have officially checked off one of my two desires for this trip.  I saw a manatee.  Now all that remains is to eat an alligator.  Riding an airboat through the Everglades promises to be icing on the cake as well.

 

Speaking of alligators, after gaping at the manatees for a while, we were informed that a crocodile was lurking in another part of the marina, protecting her eggs.  We hustled over there.  Not sure if the one we saw was mama, but whoever it was snuck up behind us when we were staring at her last known location.  Exciting stuff. 

 

A quick stop at the marina store gave Chris a chance to ask her questions.  They also told us to be sure and check out the osprey nest built high in an observation tower just behind the building.  Sure enough, we found that one easy enough.  Looked a lot like an eagle, but not as majestic. 

 

Then it was back through the park again to locate our hotel for the night.  No rest for the weary, though.  At least not right away.  We needed to wash some clothes.  Our room was on the first floor.  The laundry facilities were on the fourth floor.  Road trip.

 

Psalms 19:7 says, “The law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul.  The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple.”

 

Father, thank you for the chance to see those manatees.  It was exciting for me.  Sometimes it doesn’t take much.  Amen.