The Red Neck Riviera

Today's guest blogger is Chris Hitchcock

A late start to catch the 9:30am ferry allowed us to catch up on laundry and get in another gourmet breakfast complete with eggs (our way, NOT your way), sausage, Curt’s potatoes AND, are your ready?, garlic toast! Yeah baby, we’ve created a whole new food category. To be honest, I had forgotten the toast from the evening before and as Vanna just doesn’t have a lot of fridge room we opted to cook it. And it was quite good.

Our good ship MV Marissa Mae Nicole was right on time to take us away from Dauphin Island to Fort Morgan. Side note, the road from our casa to the ferry dock is spelled Bienville. It is pronounced Beenvul! The ferry crosses Mobile Bay. It’s a 25 minute run and takes us by numerous natural gas production platforms. They are all over the place as this is the largest natural gas discovery in the lower 48. The wells are 21,000 ft deep. You gotta think natural gas is a comer for transportation! So, Mobile Bay is the site of a critical Civil War, or should we call it the war of Northern Aggression?, naval battle. The larger United States Navy took on a smaller confederate fleet reducing them all to rubble ‘cept for the ironclad Tennessee which stoicly fought on until it too was beyond fighting. The US victory led to the surrender of the two nearby forts in a few days and combined with the surrender of Atlanta, Lincoln’s re-election was never in doubt. As Walter Ginn advised, this battle was the origin of “damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead” which US Admiral Farrigut proclaimed upon entering the battle. Per Ginn, back in the day, torpedoes were actually mines which forced the ships to hug closer to shore and shore batteries. Mind you we’re not sure how Walter knows all this as he was still in school and could not have been in attendance.

Arriving at Fort Morgan, AL, there are still battlements in evidence but all are now nearly fully grown over. Isn’t it amazing the details you see when bicycling at 14 mph! The 21 mile ride out the Fort Morgan Peninsula to Gulf Shores featured a bike path but should you venture this way, opt OUT as the road is newly paved and the path not so much! Vanna was Johnny on the spot, as usual, for our first and only break before lunch. Knowing of Peter’s penchant for historic markers, we came across one which indicated the first Indian village to be visited by the white man. Named Achuse, it was visited by one of DeSoto’s officers in 1539. Normally there are two stops before lunch but as this was a short ride of 54 miles (that’s short??), this was our only stop before Flora-Bama! What is that you ask? Well let me tell you, it’s not normal but it is a place to stop, for a short time. Our dinner waitress described it as the Red Neck Riviera and she knows what she’s talking about as she works there as a bartender two nights a week. Wrecked by Hurricane Ivan back in ’04, the owners haven’t put a nickel back in – and why should they! It’s a gold mine as is. It’s a music mecca with plenty of cold beer (cans only!). Open 365 days a year, they make money every day so why upgrade.

Our lunch stop was in the parking lot opposite F-B and Curt again conjured up a magical oasis complete with lawn chairs and a petit smorgasborg to satisfy any gourmand. Wouldn’t you know, some guy comes up and upon seeing Peter’s and my Clydesdale jerseys quickly advises up he’s a true Clydesdale: over 50 yrs, over 250 lbs and an IQ under 50! He was glad to provide the lot for our weary bones and he even said we could use his FEMA trailer. We must have looked wearier than we thought. We told him we looked forward to coming back for the evening’s festivities.

This part of the Coast is chock full of condos, souvenir shops and vacant lots, all for sale. There is no question the sand and beaches are spectacular but we could not help but wonder who and where are the owners and when do they visit? The answer, from a commercial builder I chatted up at F-B; Louisiana, Georgia, Alabama, Florida and Tennessee. Seems everybody loves a good beach. There being plenty of indoor smoking, I enjoyed the music from the outside and clearer air. Note: when I asked the bartender about smoking he said “lite up”. Bars are smoking and this place is all BAR with a hint of food!

A note about the beaches. The story goes when big wind or waves bring beach sand on to the road, the state mandates that it be returned to the beach as the taking of sand for personal or commercial use is strictly verboten! Clearly they take their sand down here very seriously. And so they should. After all, their fine grain sand is the reason for the tourism and remember, not all sand is alike. This stuff is more like bleached flour than sand!

Winding our way to “sitting on the dock at the bay”, our cottage’s name, on Perdido Key, the plethora of bike lanes is greatly appreciated. Bridges were the biggest climbs, most providing vast vistas at their apex. Crossing Mariner’s Cut, the bridge is nicknamed Dolly Parton for the large swale at the top allowing tall ships access to the river. While riding along we heard jets before we saw the Blue Angels doing a practice session. The Navy’s elite fighter pilots at their finest. P&C have now seen them three times over the past six weeks. As the Angels are based in Pensacola, the natives must see the aerial acrobatics all the time but to us plebeans, it was inspiring.

Our cottage, though right on the road is also on Perdido Bay with a terrific view across to Alabama. Originally a freshwater lake known for its freshwater lillies, some clown got the idea to cut a channel to the ocean so now no lilies and no freshwater. FYI – Perdido means “lost”. How someone could say this island was lost is beyond me, it’s a pretty big island! The view from the back of the cottage was postcard perfect and the sunset was stunning. Interestingly, the owners were quite specific about arriving no earlier than 4pm. They were quite serious as the upstairs was getting new floors. The carpenters were there well past 5pm but the beds were put back together in no time. The delay was quite nice as it gave us, make that me, more time to complain about hills, mileage and so on. The advertised mileage of 75 a day had been a concern of mine from the get go but with Vanna, I knocked off 50+ with minimal pain and suffering. Walter, on the other hand, has ridden like a pro. I think his bike computer needs adjustment as he keeps riding and riding!

We knew Flora-Bama was our final destination as it was the kickoff of the 26^th annual Frank Brown International Songwriter’s Festival where some of the great country songwriters congregate for a week of Yee-Haw. But, rather than dine by Sysco (frozen or fried) we conjured up Triggers Restaurant, a local seafood joint with fresh Tuna, Grouper and Mahi-Mahi. It was seriously good!

So, it was a long, delightful day full of history, fine friends, ice-cold Coronas at the end of the ride (thanks Curt), incredible scenery (including Liz’s gams), an incredible sunset , beaudaciously fresh seafood and live entertainment at the Red Neck Riviera! A day not soon forgotten.

Alternate Blog

We came, we ferried, we rode, we drank, we ate and we slept, EFI!!!