August 16…. So much fun I can hardly stand it!

Ok, so my idea of fun might vary widely from yours. 😉

It’s been a week at the beach so far and my routine has mostly developed. Around 9 – 9:30 I jump out of bed, slip on my swimsuit and grab my book, my speaker, hat and sunglasses and kiss Susy goodbye and hop in the truck where my beach gear already lives.

2.5 miles north to the A Street ramp where I surrender my daily $10 for the privilege of driving on their beach. 🤨 Driving on a beach? What is this madness! Yes, many of Florida’s east coast beaches are drivable. The Daytona races were even born out on the sand many years ago. My whole life it’s been a normal event to drive out on the sand and set up camp right next to the car. Back in the 70’s, my dad made a nice living pulling tourists out of the ocean as they parked and walked off completely oblivious to the ocean tides. 🤣

The St John’s County beaches have become highly restricted since the days I came here in my youth. We used to drive all over the place, up and down the beach north and south, parking all over the strand. Today, all traffic is one way only, and vehicles are confined to the highest part of the beach next to the dunes. Anyone that has ever been to a beach knows that’s where the softest sand is. Over the years, I’ve seen hundreds of cars stuck up to their doors. Fleets of rednecks used to patrol the beach in jacked up trucks just for the fun of laughing at (and then helping) stuck visitors.

Nowadays, the county only allows 4×4 vehicles out in the beach. Hey! That’s me now! I have a big truck with 4 wheel drive so I claim my birthright to drive out on the beach! Ok, so it’s not jacked up. And I don’t have mud/sand tires on it, but so what! Off I go.

All week it’s been just fine. Yes, the sand is soft, but if you stay in the ruts it’s all good. But today, not so much. 😳. As I’m driving along, I feel the truck getting slower and slower. And slower. BUT, the wheels are still turning at speed. Uh, that’s bad.

The sand has been pulverized to powder all week and driving through it is not so easy as it once was. Turning the wheel left or right doesn’t do much… remember those ruts? Rule 1…. Don’t panic! And DON’T hit the gas!

So rather than trying to power out of it I tried what to me was counterintuitive. I stopped. Heck, I was almost at a standstill anyway. Stopped before the truck could dig a hole deep enough that I’d be searching for a redneck.

Breathe! Then line up the steering wheel and with only the slightest touch on the gas, move. The truck can go just fine through deep sand, but once those tires start digging holes, watch out! So creeping along barely above an engine idle, I crawled my way out. No redneck required today!

Carefully picking my spot, I drag all my gear out to a high spot in the sand, above the high tide line. I think. We’ll see. Tent, chair, table, tunes…. I’m in for the day. Watch the waves. Watch the bikinis. (Don’t mention that part to Susanne 😉). I swim a bit, read my book, nap, just enjoy it all. Total relaxation. Relaxing from what is still to be determined, but I’ll figure that out another day.