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Published: August 5th 2014
According to MapQuest, the drive from Heritage Mobile Home & RV Park in Augusta GA to Town and Country RV Resort in Sanford FL via I-16 and I-95 would be 379.09 miles and would take 5 hours and 56 minutes. Of course, that allows no time for “truck fuel” stops, potty breaks or “people fuel” stops and does not account for my “slower-than-the- speed-limit” pace. Generally, I find myself padding the calculated “trailer-in-tow” travel time by about fifty percent which seems to work quite well. I got a 9AM start which should have me in Sanford about 6PM. That’s a long day behind the wheel for this lightweight!
My post-5PM arrival on Thursday, December 19, 2013 found my customary site (AND the spot I had called to reserve a few weeks beforehand) occupied. I encountered one of the maintenance men who suggested I pull into an “overnighter” site and let the feathers settle in the morning. Excellent suggestion! Those sites are all pull-throughs and are long enough to accommodate the truck and trailer ATTACHED! In the morning, the “fly in the ointment” was identified (the site occupant had taken a site across the street from the assigned site), and I
was given a different site. Flexibility! No problem!
My former neighbor saw my rig as I made my way to the new site and walked over as I was setting up to welcome me and to inform me the RV park had been sold for development and had to be vacated before the end of March. I hoped that my routine VA medical appointments would be completed and that I would have resumed
The Great Adventure by then. Unfortunately, many of the regulars who live W-A-Y up north don’t leave until May and those who have fixed/non-mobile RVs would have to make arrangements to have their RV moved to another park. My problem was merely a ripple in my road.
The first couple of weeks in Florida was replete with festivity – most notably Christmas, my Aunt Lena’s 91
st birthday, her great granddaughter’s 1
st birthday (as well as a sprinkling of other birthdays) and her granddaughter’s wedding on New Year’s Day. Party for this, party for that, doctor for this and doctor for that kept me pretty busy for a few weeks, but I managed to take time to stop at the Don Garlits’ Museum of Drag Racing
and the Museum of Classic Cars – sister museums located in Ocala FL right on my way to the VA Medical Center in Gainesville FL.
Don "Big Daddy" Garlits was born January 14, 1932 in Tampa FL and is considered the father of drag racing. In the early days of drag racing, abandoned WW II military aircraft pilot training fields became available for alternate uses, including automotive racing; however, the first official race held by the National Hot Rod Association (NHRA) was on a slice of the Los Angeles County Fairgrounds parking lot in Pomona CA in April 1953. Garlits was inspired and used an electric welder and gas torch to build his first drag race car under an oak tree at his home in North Tampa in 1954. He modified an old 1927 Ford Model “T” Roadster to accept a 1948 Mercury engine, ’39 Ford floor shift transmission and a ’48 Ford rearend. That early T-Bucket's quarter-mile performance was a 13.5 second elapsed time (e.t.) at a speed of 93 mph.
It was this successful, formative roadster that would give Garlits the beginnings of his first “slingshot” dragster when he took off the body, moved the engine
back and moved the driver seat behind the rear end. When the NHRA Safety Safari came to Lake City FL in August 1955, Big Daddy would win the first NHRA race he entered with a 12.1 second e.t. at 108 mph. Three years later, he would become a professional drag racer. The first national drag racing meet sponsored by the NHRA was held on an abandoned WW II airfield near Great Bend KS in 1955. Hailing from Florida, Garlits was considered something of an outsider. He was sometimes referred to as “The Floridian” before intervening on his own behalf and adopting the nickname "Swamp Rat."
Early in his career, Garlits lost a portion of his foot in a drag racing
accident when the experimental transmission in his dragster failed. Thereafter, he perfected the rear-engine, top fuel dragster design. This design is notably safer as it puts most of the fuel processing and rotating or reciprocating parts of the dragster behind the driver. The driver is placed in "clear air" in front of nearly all mechanical components, thus remaining capable of activating a variety of safety equipment in the event of a catastrophic mechanical failure or a fire. Garlits was
My First Car Was A 1955 Chevy
Museum of Classic Cars - Ocala FLan early promoter of a full-body, fire-resistant suit – complete with socks and gloves – and was the first drag racer to officially surpass the 170, 180, 200, 240, 250, and 270 miles per hour marks in the quarter mile as well as the first to top 200 in the eighth mile. He has been inducted in numerous halls of fame and has won numerous awards during his career.
One source I found claims Don Garlits’ Museum of Drag Racing is “a car museum for people who usually don't like car museums, because dragsters aren't really cars -- they're horizontal missiles with wheels.” I suppose video of a
blowover might support that contention! For those who DO like car museums, there is the Museum of Classic Cars right next door. One price gets the visitor into both facilities but selecting one (i.e., paying for only one museum) is not an option. The Museum of Classic Cars houses another superb collection of vintage automobiles; however, both museums suffer from the same malady – OVERPOPULATION. It is difficult to get a good view of many of the specimens and, therefore, to really appreciate the exhibit; however, there are so many truly
unique samples that I have to give the attraction a “must see” for anybody passing through the Ocala FL area on I-75.
The RV park where I was hanging my hat in Sanford FL is only about 30 miles from the Daytona International Speedway, but I had been warned by several locals with firsthand experience about the throngs of people and the horrific traffic jams accompanying the Daytona 500. Even though I believed opting out of attending NASCAR’s premier event would reside on the verge of sacrilege, I had attended only the 2012 Dual 150s in three previous Daytona Race Week opportunities. When I learned my neighbor in the RV park was planning to attend the 500 (and since he knew the area and volunteered to drive), I chose to ignore the warnings.
In spite of a 7AM departure, it took four hours to grab a quick breakfast and arrive at the parking lot. We had agreed to purchase an infield pass so we could enjoy the prerace activities and could get a better look at the cars as they sat on pit row. Everything was really cool, but the time to enjoy it was minimal at best.
The Front Side Was Less Congested
2014 Daytona 500 - Daytona Beach FL About a half hour before the race was to start, we made our way to our seats. Prerace ceremonies happened under mostly cloudy skies. Once a NASCAR race has passed the half-way point, officials consider the race complete should rain or other affliction interrupt the proceedings. The track at Daytona Beach is a 2-1/2 mile oval so the 500 mile race ‹gray matter working feverishly› is 200 laps, and the race is “in the books” ‹gray matter again working feverishly› after 100 laps are completed.
The racing was really different than the Dual 150s in that there were about twice as many cars on the track at a time. By lap 39, the rain had become so heavy that the red flag was displayed – stopping the race. The cars were brought onto pit row and covered. We made our way to an area under the grandstands. That area became quite crowded when the grandstands were evacuated after a tornado warning was issued. The skies lightened and track dryers were deployed.
Since most of the spectators have to work on Monday and since it costs a ton of money to return all the vendors, ticket takers, concessionaires, safety
crews, pit crews and all the other personnel the following day, we were confident the race would be concluded that evening if at all possible. The skies grew darker and the rain increased. The rain ebbed. Increased. Ebbed. With our feet thoroughly soaked after 3-4 hours of on again, off again rain and our stomachs hungry for some real food, a heavy downburst led us to decide to go home and watch the conclusion on TV – whether later that evening or the next day.
The red flag lasted for six hours and 22 minutes, making it the longest rain delay in Daytona 500 history. We stopped for a nice dinner and returned home. I changed my clothes and donned my warm, fuzzy slippers. The race restarted at 8:52 PM, and I was nodding off during the final laps as the conclusion was well past my self-imposed bedtime. I’m glad I went but believe the experience of the track can be garnered at a Craftsman Truck Series race or a Nationwide Series race without “the throngs of people and the horrific traffic jams.” In future visits to NASCAR events, I definitely will consider staying at an RV park within
walking distance of the track and attending the Cup race without the traffic and parking hassles.
A “long story made short” led to my decision to relocate my primary VA medical care to the Phoenix AZ system from the Gainesville FL system. My best friend from childhood, Gary, lives there. We first met before either of us could walk at a “Diaper Change-a-Thon” and then grew up four doors from each other. He has agreed to serve as my local mail drop and to serve as my chauffeur after outpatient procedures, such as a colonoscopy, when I am given a heavy dose of “I don’t care what you do” drugs.
Since my aunt no longer drives, my sister, Helen, decided to make a visit to Sanford to see my aunt (mostly) and me (a little bit, I guess) while her/their chauffeur was still in town. Helen and I planned a couple of days as a change of pace. My aunt deferred – I’m guessing that she thought a return to solitude and her normal routine would be a great change of pace! One day Helen and I drove to Homosassa FL on the Gulf Coast to see our
cousin and her husband for a few hours and then drove to a nearby landmark that has held lure and intrigue for me since a local TV weatherperson first told me of the island – Cedar Key. Although the threatening skies and time restraints prevented meticulous perusal, we both enjoyed the drive and the charm of the seaside village. We took another day to drive to the Atlantic side of the peninsula and the Ponce de Leon Inlet Lighthouse in Ponce Inlet FL. We drove along the beach and concluded the day with a lap around the Daytona International Speedway – on the streets of Daytona Beach! She was pretty amazed at the size of the facility.
As VTP Day (Vacate the Premises Day) neared, the RV park bevame a hustle and bustle of activity. Units that had been stationary for years had axles and tires reapplied and were dragged from their moorings under severe protest. Some looked as though a trip of five miles would serve as a death knell. Others were newer and/or better maintained and looked like several years of enjoyable habitation remained. Although I never really adopted the park community as my own, others had
lived there fulltime for over twenty years and looked forward to the reappearance of the seasonal guests and the return of bingo, bus trips, pot lucks, dances and other park activities. In some respects, it was sad to see a vibrant community dissolve before my eyes.
I left Town and Country RV Resort in Sanford FL for the final time EVER on March 18, 2014 about 10 AM and drove just short of 2200 miles in about 57 hours – arriving at Gary’s house in Mesa AZ the afternoon of Friday March 20, 2014. That’s a LOT more wheel time than I usually endure, but I wasn’t sightseeing and didn’t want to spend time checking into RV parks, etc., etc. Since some of my belongings such as the laptop and the printer occupy the bed while in transit, I pulled into rest areas or onto exit ramps when I got tired and slept in the reclined driver’s seat. The trip was long, boring and exhausting but, fortunately, uneventful.
I purposely navigated Houston TX after the morning rush and San Antonio TX before the afternoon rush. Once west of San Antonio, I was able to relax and enjoy the
landscape. The brilliant blue skies and the desert flora welcomed me. The further west I travelled, the more I felt at home. I navigated a familiar I-10 through El Paso TX and Las Cruces, Deming and Lordsburg NM. I passed through Texas Canyon near Willcox AZ and expected the Lone Ranger to appear from behind the boulders just like I had felt when I first discovered the landmark in 1970 following my discharge from the U.S. Marine Corps. The saguaro cactus welcomed me near Tucson AZ. I felt at peace and said to myself, “Larry, this is where you belong.”
I plan to return to the eastern United States. So much unexplored history awaits me and so many friends and relatives reside there, but the southwest is my home and will be my base of operations for the remainder of
The Great Adventure.
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