We’ve tapered off to nine. We’re not afraid of no stinkin sleep monster.
It was good to stop and search the swamp for wood ducks, but I wasn’t through driving yet. I like the feel of just rolling down the highway, then looking around after eight or ten hours to see where you are. We only drove a couple hours on Wednesday, then the motorhome didn’t move at all on Thursday. We got up this morning before the sun. We turned left.
We turned left, driving straight east, into the strobe light torture of a brilliant sunrise over perfectly flat Louisiana through a tall pine forest (picture). The strobe light torture lasted about two hours. It was harder on Judy than on me. She occupies the south side of the car. The low winter sun lasts longer on her side than on mine. It doesn’t seem fair, but that’s the way it is. We’re considering only taking trips in which we drive west from now on, just to even things out for awhile.
Louisiana is behind us. Mississippi too. Then Alabama. Tonight we’re in Florida.
We have crossed a lot of rivers on this trip. Down south, they have all had a chance to get big from all the water flowing down from up north; by the time we cross them. They are all crossed with impressive bridges. The bridge over the Mississippi was the biggest, but there have been bridge after bridge to cross these rivers. In Colorado we have streams. These are clearly rivers. Our favorite bridge of all, though, is the one in Mobile that goes under the river instead of over it. Here you are, driving along. You know you’re approaching another river and you’re watching for the bridge approach. You get closer and closer, and still don’t see the bridge, then you just duck down and go under it instead. Cool.
We stopped for the night at Falling Waters State Park in the Florida Panhandle. Before it got dark, we took a walk to find the falling waters. Halfway there, is the impoundment with the swimming beach. Now remember, this is Florida. Right next to the swim beach, is the sign announcing the presence of alligators, and warning that it is illegal to feed or molest alligators in Florida. I swear. I’m not making this up. It didn’t say to be careful not to get eaten by alligators, it warned everyone to be careful with them.
Farther down the hill, (you go downhill to go see the waterfall in Florida), is Florida’s highest waterfall. Wait. Let me rephrase that. Farther down the hill is the waterfall with the most vertical drop of any in Florida. That’s it. Remember, this is Florida. Florida is pretty flat. There is not anyplace really all that high to fall from in Florida.
Sixty-seven feet, and an impressive sixty-seven feet it is. Now you might be wondering how Florida manages even a sixty-seven foot waterfall. And you’re right to wonder. There is a trick. They manage a sixty-seven foot waterfall by having a stream fall into a one hundred foot sinkhole. To see the waterfall, you follow the stream downhill to the point where you can look over the edge and watch it fall sixty-seven feet into a hole. And you might be wondering how the water only falls sixty-seven feet into a one hundred foot hole. Well, me too. I’ve just telling you what the signs said.
It was an awesome sight. For Florida.
A four hundred mile day.
