Jacksonville FL – Williamston NC
Saturday March 17, 2018
(~618 miles)

I think most event attendees either left for home before dawn or slept in this morning, because few were stirring when I hit the breakfast buffet around 06:30, and the lot was starting to look pretty empty. After poring over the weather radar for major cities along my homeward route and playing with Basecamp for a couple hours, I’d determined that I’ll be able to take my full three available days to get back home on Monday, in time for work the next morning. I decided to focus on collecting some southern lighthouses for this trip, with perhaps a couple Melting Pot GT towns thrown in.

 

I left the hotel around 07:30 and hopped on I-295 to circle around Jacksonville to the east. Then local routes over to the naval base in Mayport, at the mouth of the St. Johns. There are two lighthouses on base property, which is inaccessible to civilians. Luckily, both are visible from off-base if you do a little research. My route first brought me through the still sleeping village of Mayport to get a good look at the St. Johns River Lighthouse from a small residential street along the base fence. I noted there was a ferry terminal in town, and realized that I’d mistaken the crossing for a bridge in my routing. Since I was planning to stick to the coast, I decided to come back and take the ferry, rather than ride back to the interstate to cross the river.

But first, I had to circle back counter-clockwise around the base to get out to the ocean side of town at Hanna Park. I paid the small entrance fee and rode down to the last parking area next to the base. From here, it was a short walk out a boardwalk through the hammock area to the beach, beautiful in the still-low morning sun, and empty but for a woman collecting shells.

St. Johns Light is set far back on the base and you can only make out the upper portion of it from this public part of the beach. Scary signs warned you not to cross onto the base’s beach section, so captured the best photos I could of the castle-like tower using the zoom.

With that mission accomplished, I was feeling peaceful and pleased with my decision to take it a bit easier on the way home. I walked back up to the parking lot and scooted back around the base and back into Mayport. I had just missed the ferry (of course) which runs every half hour and I could see it docked on the far side of the river.

With 20 minutes or so to kill, and being the only poor SOB to line up for the ferry this far in advance, I stretched my legs and got in a few photos while looking around. There were a few feral cats about and I spoke briefly with a local who was walking his dog, regarding the early establishment of the town, which he referred to as “Plymouth Rock of the south” and told me how the Spaniards killed everyone when they came. A bit of an odd duck but I enjoyed the historical banter.

As the half-hour drew near, I watched the ferry make its way over cross the heavy current. Probably a 7-8 minute journey total. By now a few cars had lined up behind me to wait, and I chatted with a couple of the drivers who asked about my trip and the weather up north. After all the inbound cars unloaded, I followed the ferry crew directions to board, and then just stood by the bike and enjoyed the boat ride.

After exiting the ferry, headed east to stick to the shore following A1A, and enjoyed a cruise across the Talbot islands and onto Amelia Island, where I stopped for a quick fuel receipt to prove my presence in the area for the Lighthouse Tour.

The island apparently has quite a checkered and colorful history (including pirates), but I rode through some nice neighborhoods and laid back beach communities, then into Fernandina Beach where A1A ends. I wound my way through some tiny residential streets to get to Amelia Island Lighthouse.

I had about 40 miles to my next stop, and headed back inland to I-95. I chatted with my wife on the phone during this stretch, and related seeing a large open bed truck over in the southbound lanes with three or four 15′ flamingos in the back. Weird!

I exited on US-17 near Brunswick and headed toward the coast once more. I saw this magnificent bridge up ahead and pulled over for a couple quick photos. Later research proved it to be the Sidney Lanier Bridge, the longest span in Georgia at 480 feet.

I turned east on the Torras Causeway, which appeared to be a revenue source for the local P.D. (personally avoided thanks to my detector and Waze), to get across a few more rivers out to Saint Simons Island. After passing through a swanky plantation with the Sea Island Golf Club, I arrived at the very picturesque Saint Simons Lighthouse at the southern tip of the island.

Needing a receipt, I went into the museum next door and told the nice ladies working the counter that I wished to make a donation as long as I could get a receipt. Five dollars well spent to help maintain this landmark and I was back on my way. Another 80 miles or so of I-95 to get up to the Savannah area and three possible lighthouses to collect. This is where my day went a bit sideways for an hour or so…

Though I’d had great weather and mostly clear skies, I knew pockets of weather would be lurking in places along my route. Literally as soon as I exited I-95 on the loop highway for Savannah, it began to shower unexpectedly and I pulled over to stow the radar detector and zip my vents. It seemed there was a rain cloud just hovering over just the city – no big deal. My next intended stop was a rather small lighthouse right in the middle of town, but in my hurried planning for a route home I’d forgotten one complicating factor…St. Patrick’s Day.

As soon as I turned onto local streets in downtown Savannah, I was forcibly reminded exactly what day it was. People were everywhere, and 90% dressed in green. “OK,” I thought. “No problem, they probably just had their local holiday parade and folks are heading back to their cars now.”. Um… nooooo. You see, apparently folks in Savannah go 100% Irish on this holiday and this was literally a party in the streets. I was stuck in a gridlocked traffic jam with roadblocks everywhere, partitioning off the city streets in a pattern that probably made sense to locals, but completely confused me and my poor GPS/Waze devices. I sat in traffic, inching slowly through the streets as turn after turn was blocked off to my access by the local constabulary. People were walking everywhere, drinking with friends, or walking with their family, or in combinations thereof. Uniformed sailors strolled by in packs, dogs were painted green, people hung from 2nd story pub windows. It was a madhouse and I felt punched in the gut.

Sitting on one particular stretch for over five minutes straight without moving, a plump young woman emerged a few cars ahead from a huge white SUV with a LOUD sound system playing some current popular tune I didn’t recognize, and began SHAKING that booty in the street, singing at the top of her voice. People cheered her on and sang along from the sidewalks and windows. A man walking past stopped and joined in the dance.

As the cars slowly moved forward, she alternated getting back in and out of her car to dance some more. The woman in the car behind her eventually got out and went up to dance invitingly by the SUV’s windows. At one point the SUV driver, a very tall dude, got out and danced, to even louder cheering and singing. I have no idea now how or why I didn’t take any photos or video of this scene, except that I was damp, ticked off, confused and had now decided to give up on getting the three lighthouses. I had to smile at the scene unfolding right in front of me, but all I wanted at that point was to get the hell out of this city and on the open road again! Under different circumstances…

I finally made it through the next intersection that was jamming this portion of the road and saw the highway signs. Freedom! I made my way onto the on-ramp and signed in relief as I headed north and over the river on US-17 once again. This map shows my tiny loop in downtown Savannah that took me over an hour to complete. The red circle is the harbor lighthouse I was trying to get to – can’t get there from here!

I found out later just how big this celebration is and that the Vice President was actually in town probably resulting in even worse traffic than usual. From the Washington Post:

Pence swooped into Savannah on its busiest day of the year. The historic city has been celebrating St. Patrick’s Day since 1824, and the March 17 holiday has grown into one of the South’s biggest street parties after Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Organizers of Savannah’s parade estimated crowds would swell to 500,000 or more. (March 17)

Swell.

The skies cleared up right away outside Savannah. I rode several miles back out to the interstate but needed to stop for a stretch in Hardeeville, after sitting in all that traffic. Saw these bleary-eyed fellas next door at a fireworks/souvenir shop and had to snap a few photos.

My lighthouse seeking done for the day, and now quite a bit behind schedule, there was nothing left to do now but slog the 400+ miles, mostly on I-95, north through the Carolinas to the EconoLodge hotel in the small town of Williamston NC. I arrived sometime after 20:00 and was grateful for the delicious leftover pizza I’d brought along from Jacksonville. The hotel decor was a bit dated, but clean and the staff friendly. I looked forward to a day mostly off the interstates tomorrow.