SAILING OVER ASPHALT

             It's one thing to read "Blue Highways" or "The Road Less Taken" but quite another to actually veer off the interstate. Exploring what's beyond can get interesting.  
     6000 miles into this trip we realized we had not followed Carl Sandburg's advice.  We had been on too many big, busy roads.
   Earlier this week Francesca and I were whizzing south on I-26 with thousands of other vehicles.  We felt like pebbles pouring through a funnel all in an effort to get to Savannah quickly.  We knew we weren't having fun and thought, "Maybe today's journey can be as interesting as its destination".

People often describe sailing this way.

    Scouring a map, we saw a nearby country road that snaked its way to the coastal city.  Five minutes later we were on it passing  towns with names like Orangeburg, Smoaks, and Sixty Six.  We were on "Freedom Road" which later became "Lowcountry Highway". 
    Sometimes we didn't see another car for miles.  No one was selling the okra, tabacco, or beans that filled the fields next to us. 
    On the edge of Branchville we saw a sad little store with a "Fresh SC Peaches" sign.  We went in to find five bruised, lonely, peaches huddled on a table.  
The town got better after that. 

 This is the former train station that is now a museum.  Small town collections like this are a treasure.



 We loved the Branchville's faded houses as well. 

   

Two days later we were leaving Saint Augustine for the final leg of our trip.  We shunned the interstate again for A1A, Florida's Atlantic coast highway.   Here are a few things we saw,


Fort Mantanzas 
The southern entrance to  St. Augustine harbor is spectacular but passing by can conjure up a sad past.   The inlet is best known for the mass execution of 245 French Protestants by Spanish soldiers in 1585.   After the Frenchmen were captured they were told they could live if the converted to Catholicism.  All but four refused.
   "Matanzas" is Spanish for slaughter. Killing for God, it's an old tradition.  
   
Wood carving, there's a tradition I can live with...

 
Tree Root Sculptures 
  Just south of the inlet you pass a house festooned with the resident's creations.

 
The Atlantic Ocean        
How many highways give you a view like this?

JAVA JOINT-  You can enjoy the view above 

 while sipping coffee at this Flagler Beach cafe.
         Just down the street, there's a non-stop party at the Pirate House. I wanted to join them but 
  

Francesca wouldn't allow it.   She heard Miami calling.  
   Continuing south we soon ran out of lonely highways.  After five hours on I-95 our dog, Pi, smelled things familiar.  We were completing the last of our 6,823 miles. 
   
     It's good to be home.  We knew we were here when we opened the Miami Herald and saw 
two local mayors being led away in handcuffs.
     
    To those of you who have been following the blog,  thanks for coming along.   I also thank the many of you who invited us into your homes or sent in  comments and suggestions.  
     We enjoyed your stories as well.

SIGNS ALONG THE WAY

    Signs point the way and we saw many this summer.  Here are a few...

 "The Big Favorite",  long gone store in western Virginia

 Trailer advertising 2007 concert, Catahoochee, NC

Savannah coffee shop bathroom

Portable Toilet, Washington, DC

Hang Gliding Dude Ranch, Outside Orlando

 Hot Dog Hut, East Nashville

 St. Ignace, MI

 Belfast Maine

 Belfast, Maine

Farmers Market, Belfast, Maine

 Box of Paper, Acadia National Park, Maine

 Barn, Belfast, Maine

 Grand Central Station, NYC

Chinatown, NYC

HOT DOG ON WHEELS

Talk about good omens, as we entered the Sunshine State I saw the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile in my rear view mirror! 
  
  The down side was nearly driving off the road trying to take pictures of it (I couldn't give this important job to Francesca.  She was asleep.  My wife gets upset when I wake her to see giant rolling hot dogs).
       I passed it and it passed me several times with my camera clicking away.  I could see the couple inside wearing weiner shirts and even sitting in weiner chairs.   
I think I know what they had for lunch.  
Ahh, the glory.  I imagined tooling down I-95 in my own Mangomobile someday.

     We finally had to leave its bright, swooping, burnt-orange presence to stop in Saint Augustine.  Being our country's oldest city it was about the same as our last visit, terrific.  I can not get enough of its old world charm. 
     The old town's center is filled with tourist crap but its the perimeters we relish.  You find serious artists and craftsmen  working in beautiful buildings appreciated for their age.    Four hours earlier we had enjoyed similar grandeur in Savannah.

    I did see a few things I had not noticed before, like Henry Flagler's tomb.  As I took the picture above,
  Segway girls

a pack of Segway people came sweeping past.  Its leader was a talkative, corpulent man.   It would do him good to segway less and walk more.   
    I imagined a future with us all growing fat on Segways.  Machines have replaced writing by hand.  Why not moving by feet?
 
 Walking past Flagler College I noticed this roof being
held up by palm tree trunks.  It felt comforting to see a building material not purchased at Home Depot.
      It was Miami hot.  We motored to a nearby beach for a swim.  The water was too murky and cool to stay in long.  As the day faded and the temperature finally dipped below 90, we headed back to Old Town.

Unlike Coconut Grove, it is easy to enjoy an unobstructed view of the bay in St. Augustine.  Every evening hundreds of people gather there to enjoy the water.  After we made sure the sun had set properly,

 we sought out our favorite restaurant, Casa Maya.  This would be our last night on the road and we wanted to make it a good one. Staring at my wife sipping sangria seemed like a good start.

We made plans to make our way home on smaller roads, passing things that interstate travelers rarely see, something more than a Segway or Wienermobile.

LIVIN' THE DREAM

     Many of the people we have visited are former Miamians.  They left South Florida and never looked back.   Most settled in small towns where folks know each other and the parking is free.

 

Artists Sarah Gottfried and Alan Dillman built their home outside of Saluda, NC. 

Sarah with Grove guys


 

 Its details and fine woodwork are rarely seen in houses today.  

Woodcarving is one of many country traditions. 

 One of the hardest projects is creating a "ball in cage" from a single piece of wood.

Alan carved this one from a tree stump outside his house.



   Reluctantly we headed down the mountains for the long trip home.   I amused myself by taking pictures of cigarettes at rest stops.  

Afterwards, listening to NPR, we learned that they still kill almost a million people in this country every year.   Secondhand smoke snuffs out 40,000 annually.

We broke up the trip with stops in Savannah and St. Augustine.   Both are good examples of what Miami has constantly failed to do, preserve its past.

Peddling along Savannah's popular riverfront. 
   Parks are all over Georgia's coastal city.   When comparing park space in our country's fifty biggest cities,  Miami comes in last.  If our town were able to double its park space, it would still be last.  
   Savannah has these moss-draped plazas every four blocks. They are referred to as "the jewels of the city".  Our Coconut Grove neighborhood was designed with this in mind.  Unfortunately, there is no plaza, only four empty lots where Plaza Street meets Palmetto Avenue.

 

 Water fun in Savannah.  
       Almost every city we visited had fountains for kids to enjoy.   
    But not Miami.   When Grove parents suggested this at a meeting with Miami Commissioner Marc Sarnoff last June, he muttered, "We won't be building any fountains".   
   
     Two hours from here we'll be seeing a "Welcome to Florida!" sign.  An hour later we'll be camping in St. Augustine.  Even it has a place to get wet, the fabled Fountain of Youth.

ARMED ASTRONAUTS

    We've driven 6000 miles visiting friends and family this side of the Mississippi. They live on farms,in charming towns, and busy cities. There is a lot of variety in their lives as well.  Some raise children, one does genetic research, and another attends War College. 
    We've made new friends too.  Janet and Greg Burns were easy to meet as we both trying to camp in the same spot on the Blue Ridge Parkway (yes,we worked it out).   




The "Burnsmobile" is the last VW camper made, a 2002.
    They could be the Alabama's only white liberals. That's probably why they're on their way to Labrador.  Just retired,  Janet taught AP high
school biology and Greg finished a 35-year stint with NASA.   Teaching earth science to astronauts, he had some good stories.  Here's one,

Yes, the Americans and Russians share the space station but they're still very different. Our boys have to travel light but the Russians?  They go up with vodka, cigarettes, and a pistol.  They say they need protection 'cause they parachute down in the Urals.  They're worried about being attacked by wolves.

  New friends share all kinds of things.  I broke out my new camping plaything, a crank up radio/flashlight.  It is incredible. Y

ou spin the handle like crazy for a minute and it plays the station of your choice for 60 seconds. 

 It takes almost that long to find a decent station.  When I finally found Buddy Holly singing "Not Fade Away", it faded away.   
Life is filled with amazing moments like this.

    In Saluda, North Carolina, former Miamian Dave Prudhomme gave us a tour of his latest project, renovating "Twin Lakes", a lakeside retreat.  He helped acquire the 22-acre plot for the local land trust.
 Dave told me his trucker hat and cheap sunglasses let him fit right in with the North Carolina Culture.
    
He and his friends have already fixed up the dock, the 50-year-old water slide, and the picnic area.
 
 Now all they have to do is rebuild the dam and re-fill the "fishin' lake".

 "I love this stuff", Dave told us, "When I'm gone this will still be here for everyone to  enjoy".

Next stop was the 
Friday farmers market.  Its one of many we've enjoyed on this journey.









 
   Heirloom tomatoes were selling for a dollar a pound.  We'd like to fill our van with them before we descend from these mountains manana.

   Wouldn't it be great if we could take all of this trip's mountains, friendly people, and cool air home.  Unfortunately, our van isn't that big.  We'll have to  be content with notes, photos, and memories.