There are two ways to get anywhere: The first is by traveling from point A to point B in a straight line. This path is the fastest, most efficient and easiest on your patience. If given the choice, this is how most people travel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The second is how my brother travels: I call it the route of the drunken badger. If drawn out on paper, it resembles a doctor signing his name to a prescription while being struck by lightning. If trying to get from A to B, it is the quickest way to end up at C, and insane. You will also visit all the other letters of the alphabet and never arrive at B. On the surface, this route appears to make no sense, but when examined more closely, it turns out it still doesn\u2019t and you wasted $76 in gasoline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These drunken badger routes of my brother are wild, rambling, meandering rides that zip over hill and dale, come back around hill, decide to rediscover dale and eventually run out of gas on a country highway that a mapmaker missed because he fell asleep due to boredom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is exactly my brother\u2019s kind of place. \u201cAHHHH YESSSS!!!\u201d he says. \u201cIsn\u2019t it beautiful? There is literally nothing around for 263.7 miles.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
(He knows this exact number because we covered all 263.7 miles getting there.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was reminded of my brother\u2019s traveling ways this past weekend. The two of us, along with my daughter (16) and his son (8, but a carbon copy of his father, only miniature-ized,) traveled down to Tampa to visit my dad and aunt. My brother also brought along a sewing machine so he could stitch together a homemade tarp for a homemade boat he is building with my dad. (I add this detail only because if I had to endure it, you should to.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I decided on doing the driving. Even though the cost of gas required me to take out a second loan on my house, I did this for one simple reason: When you control the steering wheel, you control the narrative.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I thought: I can dictate the time we leave. The direction we head. The stops we make. The music we listen to. The ability to breathe fresh air, rather than whatever is festering in the cooler he forgot to empty after his last trip. And most importantly: If I see a drunken badger, I can run over it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
And all of these things would have been correct \u2026 if I hadn\u2019t been up against the devious King of the Back Road Long-cut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the way to Palatka \u2013 via my Google Maps-approved route that promised an atomic clock-guaranteed arrival time \u2013 my brother struck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cQuick!\u201d he blurted out. \u201cTurn left here! Down the river!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was mid-way through the intersection when he did this, and I jerked the wheel, jumping a curb and launching through a church parking lot where some kind of bake sale or wedding was underway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat was it?!?\u201d I cried. \u201cSinkhole? Bandits?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he replied. \u201cWait \u2018til you see this. It\u2019s so worth it. They\u2019re demolishing an old sawmill, and the flywheel on the steam engine should be exposed. It\u2019s a historical artifact! And besides, this route is kind of a shortcut.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My brother is a blacksmith, a connoisseur of all things mechanical, and if something has been \u201clost\u201d in Florida, he sees it as his legal duty to go explore until he finds it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMan, isn\u2019t that cool!\u201d he said as we passed it. His carbon-copy son pressed his nose tight up against the window and began asking about technical specifications and other words that hurt my brain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI bet you\u2019ve never seen something like that,\u201d my satisfied brother said to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere are good reasons why,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And on it went like this: \u201cSo, we could take the normal route from here. ORRRR we could take the bridge over the Cross Florida Barge Canal, go through the leaning forest, turn at Salt Springs, zip by Dead Cooter Hill and then drive over what is easily the most beautiful bridge ever built. I\u2019m telling you, wait until you see this. Best part is it only adds an extra 10 minutes at most.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMOST BEAUTIFUL BRIDGE!\u201d the voices in the backseat called out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I turned when he told me and followed his instructions down the back road long-cut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWait a minute,\u201d I said at one point. \u201cIs it me, or did this road just double back on itself and we\u2019re now heading the same direction we came in?!?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d he replied like this was obvious, \u201cbut only for like 20 or 30 minutes Don\u2019t worry. We\u2019ll turn west soon. But first we have to go north, and then south, and then a little jog east. Believe me: It\u2019s worth it!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pointed out important sites along the way: a stand of trees that looked like a tornado had bent them westward; some tractor tires painted green and positioned to look like a frog; the place where his son needed an emergency bathroom break once, and ALMOST made it out of the car in time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then the pi\u00e8ce de r\u00e9sistance and the reason we had come all of this way: A giant ramp of a bridge that jutted 90 degrees straight up out of the woods and into the sky in order to forge this tiny section of the Ocklawaha River. At the top, your ears popped and you felt the effects of high-altitude oxygen deprivation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIsn\u2019t it incredible!\u201d he boomed. \u201cWe\u2019re above the tree tops. Nothing but green in every direction. Where else can you see this anymore?!? Wasn\u2019t that worth it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hate to admit it, but he was right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI told you, \u2018most beautiful bridge that\u2019s ever been built,\u2019\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah!\u201d his son in the back felt the need to second, before asking about technical specifications and other words that hurt my brain<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On we drove. More twists and turns. More side treks and \u201cshort cuts.\u201d More historical narratives and diatribes against suburbia and a complete explanation of every sinkhole within a 50-mile radius. (My brother is also a connoisseur of sink holes, things that most people have selectively forgotten and anything involving dirt or getting dirty.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His son would nod along in agreement, and then ask him to Google random facts, like who holds the world record for longest hot dogs or holding their breath. Why waste Google on something as absurd as directions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Twelve weeks later, we pulled in at my dad\u2019s. We had time to say hello, let my nephew use the bathroom, sew together a homemade tarp and then get back in the car to head back to St. Augustine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The wheels were already spinning in my brother\u2019s brain as we backed out of the driveway: \u201cYou know, if we head up this road until we see what looks like a tractor, but is actually a sculpture made out of corn husks, there\u2019s the most amazing limestone quarry you will ever see. It will only add 10 minutes to the trip back, but I am telling you, it\u2019s so worth it!\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There are two ways to get anywhere: The first is by traveling from point A to point B in a straight line. This path is the fastest, most efficient and easiest on your patience. If given the choice, this is how most people travel. <\/p>\n
The second is how my brother travels: I call it the route of the drunken badger. If drawn out on paper, it resembles a doctor signing his name to a prescription while being struck by lightning. If trying to get from A to B, it is the quickest way to end up at C, and insane. You will also visit all the other letters of the alphabet and never arrive at B. On the surface, this route appears to make no sense, but when examined more closely, it turns out it still doesn\u2019t and you wasted $76 in gasoline. <\/p>\n
These drunken badger routes of my brother are wild, rambling, meandering rides that zip over hill and dale, come back around hill, decide to rediscover dale and eventually run out of gas on a country highway that a mapmaker missed because he fell asleep due to boredom. <\/p>\n
This is exactly my brother\u2019s kind of place. \u201cAHHHH YESSSS!!!\u201d he says. \u201cIsn\u2019t it beautiful? There is literally nothing around for 263.7 miles.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[579,561,558,565],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2398","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2022-nutshells","category-family","category-florida","category-travel"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2398","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2398"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2398\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2399,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2398\/revisions\/2399"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2398"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2398"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nutshellcity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2398"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}