We blasted off from Alabama and crossed the border into Florida on April 25, 2003, and stopped in the first welcome center and picked up about a wheelbarrow load of brochures showing things to do and see in the state.

We started out by visiting the National Museum of Naval Aviation, on the way to Pensacola.  Because of the security in effect at the time, they had them big cement barriers stuck all over the place in front of the main road into the Air Force Base where the museum was located.  It looked like the main road was closed off, so Jim jest follered a feller in a truck in the road off to the right, where an old sign said, "Commercial Vehicles Only."  When he got to the guard station, a sheriff who we'll jest call "Sheriff Bubba," (cuz I wouldn't want to use his reel name) confronted Jim and asked him, "Is this a commercial vehicle?"

Jim told him, "No."

Then he asked what we were doing in the commercial lane, and Jim told him that it looked like the main road was blocked off with them cement things.  (From where we were stopped then we could see that you could drive around them cement things if you reely tried).  The sheriff kept being mad, so finally Gloria asked him, "So, what do we have to do to straighten this out?  Maybe go back to the motel in Louisiana and start over?"

Sheriff Bubba said, "No, y'all'll have to go over and talk to them other fellers over yonder," pointing to some Air Force guards.

Jim drove over to the Air Force guards, who, incidentally, had bigger and better and newer guns than sheriff Bubba had, and they asked us what we wanted.  Jim told them the museum was our destination, so they said, "Go ahead, have a nice day."

On account of all the guys with guns guarding everything, all of us guys decided that it might not be a very good idea for any of us to get out of the van, so we jest took a nap while the old folks went into the museum.

There was so many things to see in there, that it was hard to take enough pitchers, so they jest took about 14.  To see what it's all about there without having to encounter Sheriff Bubba, jest click below:

National Museum of Naval Aviation 

Pensacola Area

After leaving the Air Museum, we headed for Perdido Key State Recreation Area, and munched on some lunch out of the picnic bag.  Jim hoofed around and took some pitchers, and took the famous pitcher shown at the right, that shows the tall lookout tower where a feller ken look all around and see for a long distance.  That's the same pitcher that it shows on the brochure we got at the Welcome Center.

Then we went to the Big Lagoon State Recreation Area and checked out the local beach and Gloria went up to a reel big bird that was standing there looking out into the Gulf of Mexico.

He was probably wanting some of them Goldfish crackers or something, but since Gloria din't have none, that bird jest ignored her.  I think that bird is called a Blue Heron, and most of them eat little fishes that they catch in the shallow water next to the beach.  That Heron didn't look very blue to me, but maybe they meant that he was sad cuz nobuddy was giving him anything that he reely liked to eat.

After that we drove along some roads here and there to see a lot of beaches and water areas, and then we went into Pensacola Beach, where we checked out some more beaches.

Then we went to see hysterical Fort Pickens, which is an old Army Fort left over from the Civil war, or maybe even older than that.  They call it a "Hysterical Fort" cuz when you shoot your cannon at somebuddy and the cannon ball lands in your boat or on your roof, everybuddy gets hysterical and starts running around and screaming--you know, hysterically.

We took a lot of pitchers on accounta there was a lot of cannons and other guy-type things around there, and explored all over the place, and I got my pitcher took while I was in or on them cannons.  The pitcher at right shows me sitting inside that 8 inch cannon.  It used to be a 10 inch cannon, but a long time ago, back before there were airplanes even, they stuck a piece of pipe in the barrel to make a smaller cannon so they could get better gunpowder mileage and be more ecologically responsible.  It would also make less noise.  (The sign says to keep OFF of the cannon, not OUT of the cannon, so I was okay).

The pieces of broken cannon shows what happens when a feller puts in too much gunpowder or somebuddy tries to put in too many cannon balls and when it goes off, it will blow up the entire cannon.

The next pitcher shows what is called a "Mortar."  It's the kind of cannon that shoots a reel big cannon ball high in the air and it comes down on something and blows it up, or at least knocks a reel big hole in the roof.  Whoever shot it last probably was trying to save too much on gunpowder and didn't put in enough, and that ball stuck jest before it got out of the barrel.  Since there's no way to get at it from the back, except for the tiny hole where the fuse goes, they couldn't push it out.  You can't grab it with a big pair of pliers, cuz they don't make pliers that big, so that cannon is jest ruined.

I could go on and on, and put in a lot of more pitchers, but instead, you ken jest click below and go to the website that shows a lot of more pitchers and gives a lot of information.

Fort Pickens Information 

Gainesville

We arrived in Gainesville on April 27, 2003, and found the Gainesville Hawthorne Bike Trail.  It was pretty cool in the shade of all those big trees draped with Spanish Moss, so only Sniffy and Lil Benny wanted to go on the ride, cuz the rest of us decided to jest take our normal nap.

The old folks went about 7 miles out, then came back for a total of about 14 miles.  They met up with a young couple that offered to take their pitcher, so here it is.  Thank you young couple.  If you read this be sure to send us an e-mail and say hi.

There was some bad hills on that bike trail, but everybuddy made it back alright, even though Sniffy's ears are pretty big and cause a lot of wind resistance and make Jim have to pedal harder than Gloria, cuz she had Lil Benny riding with her, and he jest fits reel close to the top of the bike bag and don't make no wind resistance.

Tampa/Clearwater, Florida

We got to Clearwater on April 27, 2003 in mid afternoon and found the condo where we were to stay for 4 days or so, compliments of a friend we'll call "Ron," cuz that's his name.  Some people also call him "Sharky," and that's a reel cool name, that reminds me of "Sparky."

It was a reel cool condo, and also the first one any of us guys had ever been in.  There ain't no website, so you ken jest click on the pitchers below to see them bigger and see how cool that condo reely was.  Us guys that din't go out on bike rides and stuff like that jest stayed home and watched that big TV.

Go to the next page, cuz that's where the action really starts!

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