Day 9: November 12, 2020
Eta Dodged

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Tropical storm Eta reached Florida's west coast early this morning then rapidly moved toward the state's northeast corner. The threat of wind and rain in the Jacksonville area prompted the closure of many schools and businesses and delayed the planned early morning departure of this Ohio traveler. Lisa worked from home while I watched weather reports with Tyler and listened to his advice about when travel appeared safe.

I hit the road about 11:30 which meant, even though it is my first stop of the day, it was past noon when I reached this spot I knew from yesterday and found it open. It indeed looks like an English pub on the inside and I helped the illusion by moving aside a Samuel Adams bottle on the bar when I photographed my beverage. Sadly, I didn't notice the Budweiser coaster until I was editing the picture. In case the fox on the glass is more misleading than helpful, here's a look at the other side.


Yesterday, when I was an undistracted passenger, I looked for the Old Spanish Trail Zero Milestone without success. It was much more visible than I thought and I spotted it rather easily today. It was the old hiding-in-plain-sight trick.

Granny didn't see the OST marker because it didn't exist until 1928. The Castillo De San Marcos, Alligator Farm, and lighthouse did exist in 1920 and she talks about all three in her letters.

Sometimes I do something the stupidity of which is only revealed after much time. Here's a place where I've done something stupid that became apparent almost immediately -- twice! In 2008, I started driving the Old Brick Road north from Espanola in a Corvette. The car's squirming in the deepening sand soon prompted a prudent turnaround. In 2012, I returned in a Subaru and drove the road, on a nice dry day following other dry days, easily.

I knew things wouldn't be dry this time and was prepared to skip the road if it was flooded. I decided that, even though there appeared to be even more sand over the bricks than before, it didn't look too bad. I set off to drive the road north to south as I believe Frank did in 1920. Wet sand and mud and some serious ruts made this one of the touchiest drives I've ever made. As is often the case, my photos do not support my words about slipping, sliding, bouncing, and churning because I took no pictures while doing any of those things. I had looked into acquiring a dash camera before this trip but decided it would just be one more complication. This is a spot where I kind of wish I had one. But I made it through, obviously, and the car doesn't even look that dirty -- unless you zoom in.


From Espanola, I headed directly to a friends house that I'd overshot a bit on the Old Brick Road. After some relaxing from my tight grip on the steering wheel, we headed on down the coast to Flagler Beach. At the Funky Pelican we sat outside and watched surfers (those tiny dots in the picture) as we ate. We stopped on the way back for some live music (only my third such since the arrival of COVID-19) at a place it did not get the name of.

Throughout the evening, I failed to get a picture of Dave. In the morning, neither of was was very photogenic and we were now sober enough to realize it. So there's no selfie of Dave and me and no photographic evidence that we were together.

ADDENDUM: Dec 12, 2020 - The live music was at Hammock Wine and Cheese.


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