(Adventure Vacation Days or AVD)
AVD1 “The Math”
“Aftermath” insinuates there’s a “math” and today’s math, unlike geometric or algebraic conclusions, was more along the lines of elementary math.
Kindie Garden.
Fetal even.
Point the truck south. Mash the gas pedal to the floor. Drive for what feels like…
For. Eh. Ver.
What ensued was a Japanese game show style drive of stopping, gassing, weaving, meat stick eating, caffeine hoovering, pothole avoiding, leapfrogging (I’ll pass you, now you pass me, then I’ll pass you again. We’ll do that for FIVE HUNDRED MILES, ok? Sounds like an excellent time…), narrowly avoiding already road mashed animals and a lot of good conversation.
After approximately 800 miles on the road Brant booked us a hotel and we pulled over in Atlanta.
Booking.com is usually pretty good when it comes to finding a deal but when we arrived at our prepaid, preconceived oasis in the Georgian desert, we felt like Joe & Mer Mer on Christmas Eve cuz they wuz no room at the inn.
They’d overbooked and the waitlist was full but no $&#%ing way was I staying in the freakin horse barn so off we went to hotel II.
The Sheraton.
Where Covid restrictions prevent you from even looking up into the clerks eyes.
- You must wear a mask at all times. (Sensible)
- Seriously. (Ok, I’m pretty sure I understand)
- Even in the shower. (What?!?!)
- Between bites at breakfast. (WTF?)
- Medical grade filtering underwear in case you “fluff”after Mexican dinner. (I DO NOT “FLUFF”!!!!! …I’m far too manly for that. Noxious clouds hover over cities with less ominous threats than my post Mexican dinner creations)
Leaving our precious scooters on the trailer and parked under the back of the building we made it up to our room and into the welcoming arms of a glass of Kentucky’s finest corn squeezin’s before approximately eleven minutes went by and I was uhhh-sleep.
Goodnight moon.
Unfortunately my travelin’ companion wasn’t asleep before me and the windows rattling due to my tumultuous soft palate kept him awake long after blissful relaxation had claimed me.
When I was awakened much later, I found a Richter scale tipped over on the nightstand next to me with a broken face and my pal sawing his own logs across the room.
Medium sized ones in my view compared to the sequoias I’d been obviously making minced trees out of.
Four cups of institutional coffee and a trip to “see a man about a gator” we’re on the road to Tampa.
Hijinks. Will. Ensue.
***
AVD2 The Olympians
If drinking like it’s your job was an Olympic sport we’d be sporting gold medals.
Instead, we’re sporting colossal hangovers as we hurtle towards Naples with the wind in our hair. (Kidding honey, I have my helmet cinched on)
The bartender “pretended” to be our best friend.
She “reeeeaaaalllly” liked us.
The fact that it was a slow night and we were two of the very few people in the bar had NOTHING to do with it.
She saw an easy mark and took us for a ride like a master.
“Want another?”
“Something else, maybe?”
“You guys must be professionals.”
“Oh, are you done? Pansy…”
“If you were a real man you’d finish that.”
And so forth…
I was unaware that a bar tab for two people could get that high.
Seriously.
Like mountaintop high.
Whatever that guys name is that jumped from the balloon in the stratosphere high.
SNOOP DOGG HIGH.
The credit card was hot to the touch after that vigorous swiping.
***
Anyway, after my head ceased its swelling and my roiling entrails calmed down, I rolled my scooter off of the trailer for a ride across what turned out to be a pretty tall bridge.
I now understand why they call it The Skyway.
(See the Snoop Dogg reference above)
It was only about 20,000 leagues over the sea but at least it was really windy.
I was being pushed around like a nerd in a circle of school yard bullies and I had to concentrate to keep my already delicate balance. If you have some coal and need a diamond, put me on that bridge again on a windy day on two wheels.
My traveling companion had wisely made the decision to drive the truck and trailer to our parking spot in Sarasota because he’d been there before and wanted nothing to do with the Bridge of Eternal Puckering on a motorcycle.
Donning our gear and ready to hit the road we roared off only to turn around because I’d forgotten something in the car then roared off again.
Brant, having not had a lot of highway experience on a big ol’ harley, got a trial by fire on this day and emerged as a Phoenix from the flame.
That man is:
- Bad.
- Ass.
That’s right. I said it.
I looked down a couple times and I was cruising about 85-90mph (I highly recommend the Harley Road Glide. So smooth) and he was right there. I did notice new finger marks in the grips at the end of the day but he didn’t say a word.
The man is legend.
***
Stopping in Naples for a quick bite (grouper, every meal we can get) we looked and found our spot. A beacon shining brightly in the already bright sunshine that said EVERYTHING we needed it to.
“GROUPER & CHIPS”
We pulled over immediately.
Grouper sandwich.
Grouper burger.
Fried grouper.
Boiled grouper.
Broiled grouper.
…and some conch fritters.
I needed a nap.
Instead I got the Everglades.
If you’ve only read about or seen the Everglades on tv, you’re missing out.
There’s an incredible stark beauty about the Everglades and I want to definitely go back.
About every 8 feet or so there’s a sign advertising an air boat ride:
“Best air boat ride ever!”
“Don’t ride on that guys sinking airboat
…”
“New-ish airboat rides!”
“You may, or may not, get cannibalized on this airboat ride!”
And:
“Live alligator show!” (Because the dead ones just lie there like pre-wallets or a giant boot with legs still on ‘em)
“Have unwanted relatives? Bring ‘em to the live alligator show!”
In reality the Everglades was one of the prettiest rides I’ve been on and I’d like to do it again with just that stretch in mind. There were lots of picnic areas but no warning that they were right ahead and with cypresses and mangroves on one side of the canal and walls of brush on the other they went by quickly with no chance to stop. We’re hoping that a fully floating and non cannibalizing air boat ride may happen on the way back.
More to come…
***
AVD3 Key West
The ride from Key Largo to Key West was epic.
I didn’t realize there were so many keys.
Marathon Key (short ride)
Long Key (short ride)
Smuggled Marijuana Key (I made that up)
Cocaine Key (that too)
and my personal favorite that must have taken much thought and gnashing of teeth…
No Name Key (I didn’t make that up)
800 keys (much like my high school janitors key ring) make up the archipelago with 180 miles and 42 bridges connecting them. One really cool arch bridge and the famous 7 mile bridge which has the old 7 mile bridge rotting away next to it. It’s been left there to show you what you’ll look like if you stay too long in the keys without sunscreen.
Traffic wasn’t too bad and we kept a good pace up.
The local constabulary cleverly put a police car in the driveway of an abandoned lot and just left it there on Marathon and the ruse worked. We all slowed right down but muttered under our breath unkind things when we realized it was empty.
I revved up and took off like a shot because I’d been duped but slowed right down when I saw another cruiser up ahead, the officer pointing a hair dryer at traffic.
I’m guessing they’re underfunded.
We stopped for lunch at a seafood restaurant (so weird right?) and had beef and chicken with a mutton appetizer.
(not true)
GROUPER AND SHRIMP
and some good calamari with a Caesar salad. I don’t actually think I’ve had beef this whole trip. There something about having seafood by the sea.
The smell of low tide and seagull poop really gets you in the mood for feasting.
The little cheeto birds (aptly named by my then six year old son at the pool when the sparrows would hop around looking for chips) cruising for a handout and looking too fat to fly.
The last time I was in the keys it was with my good friend John and my late brother Luke so I rented a Corona Light in his honor. I miss that guys laugh and man did he know how to have a good time.
Back on the road it was nice and easy and we made good time getting into Key West.
Once we got checked into the hotel and freshened up (a spritz of motor oil and grease in our hair. A funny thing because there’s not one hair on my friends head) we were off to Duval Street to make our mark on the town.
By “make our mark” I mean hand them a great deal of our money in exchange for surly service.
It. Was. Excellent.
I will say this. Their vodka works the same as it does in Kansas City.
You know how the saying goes, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”? Well, what happens in Key West stays in Key West but mainly because you can’t remember what happened in Key West.
Stopping wherever they served alcohol, which meant a lot of stopping, we made our way down the street and enjoyed the debauchery of the bar scene.
At one point we stopped for dinner and can’t remember what we ate but at least it was expensive.
I’m gonna have to sell my son off for medical experiments when I get home in order to finance this trip.
MANY more drinks later we wound up at Sloppy Joes, a favorite hangout of Hemingway and an estranged sister to the Sloppy Joes in Havana that I had the chance to visit a few years ago. This one was a lot more boozy than the Cuban version and by the time we were finished with our drinks, we were finished ourselves.
It was time for pizza and a ride home.
The Über driver was kind enough to wait while the pizza place milled the wheat and cultured the yeast for dough (it seemed that way ‘cause it took for eh ver) and we were off.
Back at the hotel it was pizzafest and once we were done, the bottle of bourbon I had so lovingly packed was staring at us from the tabletop so we dove back in.
The last thing I remember was Brant saying something to me and I just turned over and checked out but upon awakening this morning, my glass was empty so apparently autopilot had taken over.
My liver is grateful (a lie)
I feel pretty good (another lie)
I think a Bloody Mary is in my near future (truth)
And some seafood.
***
AVD4
Guess what we had for breakfast?
SHRIMP and grits.
Guess what we had for lunch?
That’s right, more seafood. GROUPER and of course some shrimp and conch fritters.
I’m 100% certain that I’m going to smell fritterly with a hint of fried fish parts when I get back to Kansas City.
I’ll be irresistible to the females of my species (if indeed you can figure out what my species is. I’m a bit “unique” as most of you already know).
They broke the mold when they made me. In fact, the species was forever changed upon my arrival.
Generally, this isn’t a good thing.
Being inappropriate at the most inopportune moments is ONE of my superpowers.
The other is laughing uncontrollably at funerals.
If you have a loved one that needs a sendoff sans stoicism, I’m your guy.
We’ve come back to Irish Kevin’s for the third time this trip and the second time today because they’re having church services and we are DEVOUT.
The bartender was delighted to see us and muttered “…oh, you’re back…” almost under her stanky mask breath but we paid her no mind because WE were delighted to see her. She possessed something we WANTED and it was liquid encouragement.
Three more shots and several vodkas later we walked out and wandered Duval yet again. What was about a mile was now around four.
The difference was staggering.
In fact we were.
Even the drunkest guy I’d ever seen asked if I was ok.
Turns out I’d gone into the men’s room and was looking in the mirror and the drunkest guy I’d ever seen was me.
Soooo…
Back at Angelinas Pizzeria we ordered a whole pie without calling the unsuspecting über driver first and waited while the guys threw one together for us.
I looked in the oven a couple times and those guys were masters. Every square inch of the pizza stones were in use. In between each pizza was a slice of pie heating up. They were in there side to side covering every available spot.
I’m surprised they don’t advertise pizza slivers just so they could use even more of the space in that 500 degree hellbox.
A short über ride and three giant slices later with some serious heartburn on the horizon we were ready to hit the sack but once again…
The. Bottle. Was. Looking. At. Us.
We heard the siy-reen song of the sayouth (sound it out with me: sigh-reeen and sayyy-owwwth) so off to the ice machine my coconspirator went and soon we were sipping on some of Kentucky’s finest mountain dew, feeling fine.
So fine in fact that neither of us finished even half of it judging by the still sweating recycled paper coffee cups sitting on the coffee table and nightstand when I woke up to get some water.
Water which smelled slightly of the whiskey that was formerly in the cup but it was all I had.
(On a side note I’d like to give a quick shout out to my liver. That’s one tough sumbitch to have made it through the last several days and I’m a proud owner. I’m gonna look into a system flush when I get back as a thank you for dealing with my inebriated *ss all week.)
Today has been a short but windy ride back up the coast, stopping briefly at Mrs. Macs Kitchen in Key Largo for some spectacular seafood (Hogfish on the menu today. I’ve only had ones I’ve speared myself so I was excited to hear about the specials) and we’re currently at a little dive called Sams Hideaway in Homestead (after getting a room secured at the Floridian Hotel that looks much like a motor lodge from 1957 but with very nice updated rooms) where I swear I just saw a patron use the hand sanitizer to scrub his armpits. These people are being pretty serious about their safety and since I got a whiff of that guy as he walked by, I’m thankful he’s killed whatever bacteria he was harboring in those hairy havens.
The bartender is super nice and welcomed us right in, doing an excellent job plying her wares on two willing consumers.
The night is young dear readers.
Homestead may be a diamond in the rough…
***
AVD5
This morning is brought to us by the letter “C”.
For coffee.
Because once again we went cray cray.
And “C” is for Cuban.
Because our late night munchies took us to a Cuban sandwich shop and we went cray cray there too.
It’s funny because while in Cuba I didn’t see any of those sandwiches but I certainly love and make them here.
We hustled everything back to the hotel and didn’t even sit down. We just leaned over the credenza shoving bites of whatever was handy into our open maws, marveling at how good everything was then passing out once again.
I think I’ve gained about 64 pounds since last week having eaten late night food on many occasions and fried everything seafood related so don’t be surprised if you do a double take because you don’t recognize the new acreage I’ve acquired.
At the hotel in Homestead I saw a lizard that can only be described as “The Business”.
I say business because without their little lizardy legs they’d look like… well… “the business”.
After working for the local farm vet all through high school I saw plenty of animal “businesses” and I can’t get the image out of my mind so regardless of what they may actually be called they’re now aptly named “The Business Lizards”.
An excellent band name should anyone be searching.
The ride back to Sarasota was mostly uneventful but this time rolling through the Everglades I saw MANY of Florida’s famous residences. Alligators in the wild are pretty amazing and look prehistoric. If dinosaurs looked anything like them I’m excited to be well on the far side of their extinction.
Some of the ones I saw basking on the side of the canal were HUGE.
Here’s what I equate them to:
If you took a Dick Cepek 50” monster mudder truck tire and unrolled it then gave it four legs and a 2000psi mouth grip with Sabre tooth lizard teeth, it would be about half of the actual animal.
They even looked like rubber.
Rubber sunbathing meat eating death machines.
They were incredible to see.
We did make a stop in Ft Myers to have lunch with some friends, Pierre and Jennifer, who happened to be on vacation and had been reading of our (mis)adventures on fb.
We met at a hole in the wall place called Cowboy Crab & Seafood and ordered sandwiches and goodies but I saw something that looked like a combo plate for about the same price as a sandwich and it was meant to be mine.
When everyone’s food arrived it was in normal styrofoam to go containers except for mine which arrived in a 2 inch aluminum half hotel pan with a lid on it and some real heft.
Inside was blue crab, what looked like a half pound of shrimp, red potatoes and two half corn cobs in a truly delicious broth and approximately four pounds of industrial minced garlic.
I think I need to be taught how to eat blue crab because judging by the sidelong glances, cracking the legs with your bared teeth is a tad disconcerting but wow, I just couldn’t help myself. The shrimp and crab were delicious and the potatoes dipped in the broth and garlic were ridiculously tasty. I’m certain I looked like a bugs bunny cartoon where you can hear the old manual typewriter sounds when he’s eating corn.
I may be the only one who heard that…
If you’re in or near Ft Myers, definitely go there.
The rest of the ride was good and smooth and Sarasota, along with my comfy suburban seats were welcome sights.
We had ridden 350 miles back to the truck, been rained on a bit back in the keys and had an adventure to incite a lifetime of memories.
I hope you’ve enjoyed making the trip with us and if you think some of these stories border on insanity, you haven’t even scratched the surface 
Til next time gentle readers.
Kansas City awaits…
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The Daily Exorcise 