Day 19: November 22, 2020
Back on Course

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Reaching Sarasota yesterday put me back on my planned route. It was not, however, even much of an approximation of Frank's 1920 route at this point. Granddad and Granny had camped at various spots and had driven from those spots to others multiple times. I did not attempt to retrace their every move. In addition, since I had driven along my guess at some of their route a few days ago, my planned route now was somewhat streamlined. All of that explains why neither the rain I encountered yesterday nor today's dark gray skies bothered me much.

As I've said, where the 1920 travelers passed through areas where the Dixie Highway was known to be established, that's the route I chose. That would have been the case through Orlando had I been southbound. But Orange Avenue, which once carried the Dixie, is now one-way so I found myself on Rosalind Avenue driving over a Black Lives Matter mural that was painted on the street in June.


Road work in Sanford had caused a detour around downtown and a short time later those gray skies started to leak and further degrade my picture taking capabilities. When I spotted an open brewery, I decided to take a break and hope the rain passed. It didn't, but I enjoyed two half-pours at Blue Springs Brewing anyway.

Here's some evidence that the rain did not go away but actually increased while I sipped.

The Dunlawton Sugar Mill is one of the very few places that I can actually visit and know for certain that Frank and Gertrude did too. It was still raining when I stopped so I slipped on a poncho and tucked a camera beneath it before heading in. The roof wasn't there when Chris and I visited in 2001 so what we saw may have been closer to what they saw than what is there today. Other improvements include several descriptive signs including an overall view of the operation. The Seminole Wars brought an end to the operation around 1836 so more time has passed since Granny wrote her description than had passed between her writing and the mill being active.

A few miles up the road, between Holly Hill and Ormond Beach, this car lot offered the opportunity to experience travel just as Granddad and Granny did. I considered it briefly then rolled up the window, watched as the wipers cleared my windshield, and continued on my way.

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