Day 60: The Gulf Coast

We reluctantly packed our bags and moved on from Pensacola Beach today. The forecast was for perfect weather again (mid 70s) and no rain, but had reservations in New Orleans. En route, we stopped at a couple of very nice visitor centers on I-10 (entering Alabama and Lousiana; we bypassed Mississippi's). All the eastern states I've visited have great welcome centers as you enter on the freeways, staffed by helpful people, filled with brochures and visitor information, and with clean restrooms and comfortable sitting areas. Not true in the west.

Our southern experience today was a late lunch in Slidell, LA (just northeast of New Orleans). We hadn't yet dined at a Waffle House, in part because I figured the gluten free options might be nonexistent. It turned out I was wrong. As we entered the restaurant, we were warmly greeted by Melvin, a man in his late 50s. When he learned we were from Oregon and had never visited a Waffle House (they are ubiquitous in the South), he brought us a free calendar and a hat for our daughter. I discovered there are plenty of gluten free options, and had a great grilled chicken, apple, and pecan salad (I could have had half the items on the breakfast menu, but decided to eat a little healthier). Chick-fil-A, Waffle House, Cracker Barrel, and Hardee's (which is the same as our Carl's Jr.) are all as commonplace as Starbucks in the Northwest.

By evening we had arrived at our lodging, located between the Garden District and the CBD (Central Business District, or downtown), and only about a mile from the French Quarter. We drove 216 miles today. 8,031 total miles now.

The only Welcome Center I've seen in the U.S. with signs in a second language (French in this case). I saw similar welcome signs in Quebec.

Our view of the Gulf of Mexico from our Pensacola Beach hotel.

A view from our boutique hotel near New Orleans' Garden District. It's actually a unique older hotel in a great location, and with plenty of character. 

Day 59: The Gulf of Mexico -- A Perfect Day in Paradise

I've risked life and limb on this trip to capture photos and videos of people, places, and cultural and physical landscapes so I can put together virtual field trips to share with students in my geography classes at the college. Sometimes geography field work can be grueling. Today was one of those days. I endured tropical weather, emerald green seas, and sugary white sands lined with palm trees and cabanas, and all in the name of geography education. My students deserve no less.

Seriously, today was basically a perfect day in paradise here in Pensacola Beach, Florida (right next to the town of Gulf Breeze). I did something I've never done in Oregon: played in the ocean for about an hour and a half straight. I suppose it can be done on the Oregon coast, but the risk of frostbite is simply too great. The water today was 76 degrees, about like a heated pool. My ten year old daughter and I bobbed up and down together in the waves about 25 yards offshore in water that was only about three to four feet deep. Just beyond us, surfers did their best to ride the small waves, but without much success. The day was simply too nice and the ocean waters too calm. The water felt great, as the air temperature reached the low 80s (the heat index was nearly 90).

Toward dusk we went to a nearby restaurant for dinner. We sat outside on the deck, enjoying the cooler evening air and beautiful sunset, hoping the dark, threatening clouds just to the north would stay there. They didn't, and midway through our meal we felt the first raindrops. We, along with two other tables of diners, quickly grabbed our plates and headed inside. By the time we were comfortably situated, the windows of heaven opened and sheets of rain poured down. It was still about 75 degrees, but breezy, and some thunder and lightning (not in that order) added excitement to the event. Within about 20 minutes, though, the rain stopped. Typical for this humid subtropical coastal climate.

It had rained overnight, and the day dawned with dark clouds.

The morning clouds gave way to afternoon sunshine.

Something you don't see on Oregon's beaches.

Houses on this barrier island are elevated due to the threat of flooding during hurricanes. This is what is called a structural approach to mitigating flood hazards, which aims to keep water away from people (in contrast to non-structural approaches, such as zoning restrictions, which focus on keeping people away from water).

Our view at dinner from the deck of Shaggy's a casual beach diner on the water.

Dark clouds rolling south from inland.

Day 58: The Florida Panhandle

Before leaving Waycross, GA this morning, my wife wanted to shop for shorts, since we've been experiencing quite hot, summer-like weather for the past ten days or so. Unfortunately, all the stores only had winter clothing on the racks. I suppose that makes as much sense as all of the Christmas decor that was also on display already.

Not far out of town, we stopped at a cotton field. I pulled off a piece, and the raw cotton was just like the cotton balls you buy in a store. Since we are still in the Gulf-Atlantic Coastal Plain, there isn't much to write about regarding the topography, other than it is all pretty much the same. A 100 foot high hill is noteworthy in these parts, and even then, it's a gentle slope.

Our destination was Pensacola Beach, FL. We didn't arrive at our hotel until about 8:45 p.m., or so we thought. We didn't realize until morning that we had crossed into the Central Time Zone, so it was actually an hour earlier. At least we weren't late for breakfast! I'm finding it increasingly difficult to remember what city (or even state!) I'm in on this trip, since I've traveled through so many so quickly.

We managed to drive 361 miles today. My trip total is now 7,812 miles.

Water towers are a sign that we're still in the lowlands.

Cotton field in southern Georgia.

Logs on their way to a pulp mill.

Baptist churches are a common sight.

A rest area along I-10 in northern Florida.

Day 57: Okefenokee Swamp

On Monday we left our little condo in the historic district of Savannah and ventured from the city to the swamp. On our way, we stopped at a gas station for a break and while there we tried some Cajun boiled peanuts. They were quite tasty, and had the texture of cooked pinto beans. We had seen signs for boiled peanuts all over the south, so it was nice to finally try them. Regional foods offer some insight into the local culture and economy. Since peanuts are a major crop that grows well in this area's climate, they are prepared in many different ways (boiled, fried, roasted, raw, etc.) and are a staple in the local diet.

Near Waycross, GA we arrived at Okefenokee Swamp Park. By then it was mid afternoon and about 90 degrees (but felt even hotter due to the humidity). We took a one hour boat tour on a small skiff that was just big enough to comfortably seat the six of us on the tour plus our guide, Melvin. In his late 50s, he was a knowledgeable local who made the tour very interesting with his wry humor and affable nature. We saw several large spiders, turtles, carnivorous pitcher plants, wasps, and of course alligators -- at least nine of them in their natural habitat. At one point in the tour, we were able to get out of the boat and walk a board walk to a 90 foot observation tower to view the surroundings.

Upon arriving in Waycross for the evening, we settled into our hotel room and then walked to a nearby Captain D's restaurant for seafood. I enjoyed my fresh and flaky grilled whitefish, succulent shrimp skewers, loaded baked potato, and coleslaw. Did I mention that since my wife and daughter joined me and we are dining out more, I've regained some of the weight I lost earlier in the trip?

We drove 140 miles today, increasing my trip total to 7,450 miles.

Our skiff for the tour.

Carnivorous pitcher plants.

Carnivorous gators (babies, though, only about two or three years old).

Spanish moss (neither Spanish, nor moss). It's actually an epiphyte, a plant that gets its nutrients and water directly from the air and doesn't harm the trees on which it hangs.

A tranquil setting. Until you look closer at the left of the photo.