Part 5: Florida and Georgia

I picked Trish up in Florida a week ago! 

I'm muchly behind in my trip documentation. I've been wanting to connect to WiFi but have been thwarted at every turn, so here I am very very late in chronicling the continuing saga!

I made it to Dunedin finally on Thursday March 20 and got a couple days RnR.

I was happy to reunite with Punk.

We hit the road mid-day Saturday and traveled to Paulk Vineyard, a Harvest Host, in Wray, Georgia. We made it just in time to partake in a wine tasting.

They make wine out of the Muscadine grape, a grape that is indigenous to the South.

The wine is sweet. 

It's shitty.

OK, maybe I'm being unfair. I'm a California girl, surrounded by fine wine makers and wine snobs. I don't drink a lot of wine, but I like hearty, complex, dry wines. 

Muscadine wine was none of that.

But they kindly let us spend the night on their grounds. Thank you, Paulk Vineyard!

It was a comfortable, quiet night, except for the good ol' boys in their pickup, horn blasting "Dixie" and yelling "'Murca, fuck yeah!" on their way past. 

The next day, we went north through Georgia, stopping at the place where Jefferson Davis was captured. The story is that he tried to disguise himself as a woman and was captured in women's clothing. The truth is more nuanced, and if you are interested you can read about it elsewhere. 

During the scuffle, two Union soldiers were killed in friendly fire. 

We next made our way to FDR's "Little White House" in Warm Springs, Georgia. He loved it there! He took the warm spring waters to treat his polio, and he built a house there, which acted as his "Little White House." 

He loved children, and he invited children stricken with polio to swim and play with him in the warm spring waters as well. They called him "Rosey."

Who knew? I didn't.

He spent a lot of time in Warm Springs, Georgia, and it is where he died.

I came away with a lot more knowledge and respect – if that was even possible – for the great man who led our country from 1933 - 1945.

Photos!

One of FDR's cars

Some of his mobility equipment. He tried to hide his polio-induced mobility difficulties from the public, most of whom didn't know or pretended not to know about his physical difficulties.

The last car he drove, with hand controls (below) that he designed himself.

FDR also traveled by stagecoach

And when he walked, he used a cane. These are some that were sent to him from the public. 

The Little White House

The famous unfinished portrait. He was in the process of sitting for it when he died. 

FDR died in this bed

We made our way to this nice mini-farm home in Ringgold, Georgia, where we had a quiet night with the chickens. I slept well with drip-drops of rain throughout the night. I awoke well-rested, despite my fretting about finding new tires the next day (to be continued...)!

Heading North

 Days 23 and 24: Dunedin to Jacksonville and then to Savannah.

On Tuesday the 16th we got busy! I took Poppy to get a bath while Punk was at the spa. We worked hard to pack up and get Poppy organized again. We left mid-afternoon, after a couple other errands and appointments.

Punk joined the crew. 

We headed north, made the relatively short trip to Jacksonville, and arrived at dusk to Kindred Kitten Rescue, where a pack of donkeys greeted us. 

Punk wasn't too sure about that big dog!

Most of the rescued kitties were too skittish to visit, but a few let us give them scritches. 

In the morning, the host gave us a nice yogurt parfait breakfast and some gum!

 I said goodbye to the donkeys, who were now in their pasture, waiting for the album-cover photographer.

And we hit the road again! I drove Trish to visit an aphasia group in Jacksonville, and I found a Trader Joe's a few blocks from the beach. Not only was I able to visit my happy place, Trader Joe’s, I was able to enjoy a wonderful walk on the wide-open, white sand beach. It was beautiful!

Toes in the Atlantic!

That evening, we drove up to Savannah, Georgia, where we picked up a pizza and took it to Debellation Brewing Company, where we relaxed with pizza, beer, board games, and a lemon crepe from the food truck. Yummers!  

We retired to the back lot, among a half-dozen other RVs. We felt dwarfed! 

Little Poppy among the monsters!

This was our least-favorite Harvest Host so far. Being so close to RVs who fired up their generators was icky. The noisy I-95 ran just behind. The beer was “meh.” They were celebrating their third anniversary, and it showed. They need more practice.

Somehow we got out really early the next morning, and had time to visit Blue Sky Preserve for a short walk before making it to the National Mighty Eighth Air Force Museum in Savannah.

Little Sister Adventurer also has a blog called “Jack’s Cache,” where she scans and transcribes the letters that her dad, Jack, wrote home during WWII to his mother and to his sweetheart and future wife. Jack was a member of the Mighty Eighth Air Corps, and visiting this museum has been on the bucket list for years, since the last time Trish and I traveled this road and saw the sign (it was closed that day). 

It was a good museum. They displayed a B-17, which is the bomber that Jack served in as a ball-turret gunner. I’ve been up close to a B-17, but it is still shocking and sobering to see that ball-turret and imagine Jack balled up in there, cold and vulnerable, on the belly of the plane for hours and hours. Not to mention the 60% mortality rate of that particular crew member. 

It is a tiny space! And there was no room for a parachute. The ball-turret gunner's chute had to be left up above, separated from the airman by a locked hatch!

They had plenty of exhibits from all over the European theater where the Mighty Eighth served.

Library patrons in London.

This was a poignant story:

What wasn’t fun: the hordes of teenagers from 4-5 school groups who all arrived at the same time and who literally ran amok through the museum with their clip-boards and scavenger hunt worksheets.

What was fun: Meeting Jerry, another Travotan, in the parking lot, who had also arrived early and was waiting to get in. On a multi-month trip from Washington state, he had a beautiful 2019 rig. Travato owners are the best!

After the  museum, we put on our safety belts and steered Poppy west, to Andersonville and Plains. 
Stay tuned.