To-Bee at Tybee '23 - From Campground to River Street to Inman

From Campground to River Street to Inman ...

we left River's End Campground to shop and eat along River Street then headed north to Inman, a small folksy east-coastal town.

At the RV campground, it was a bit dark out, no sun, Spencer says, "I want one."  

After I'd said, "Did you see THAT!?"

It was a black SUV driving slowly past us.  It was wrecked.  It look like someone had driven it straight on, into a telephone pole! How it still ran, I don't know!  The engine was evidently in tact 'cause it was able to motor along, the hood was still there, maybe forced to stay, but still there.  The added oddest touch was 2 extremely long racket straps that went from under the body and over the hood longways from fender to fender ...  in bright neon green!

Still we laugh at the remembered image and Spencer saying, "I want one!"

At Huey's on River Street after eating and drinking copious amounts of iced tea, I asked directions to women's restroom.  You know what, it was a directional challenge!  It felt like visiting the catacombs of Rome!

Spencer wanted to go next.  I tried to remember the way and told him we definitely need to bring the grandkids.  They'll get a kick out of the passage between the wall and the flight of upward stairs, "On your way check it out, it's a fatman's squeeze!"

You have to go through a white trimmed arching doorway, down three concrete steps into a wide waiters' work area where the walls are cement blocks, the floor is concrete, and all was windowless.

"Take a left, then go right, then a left, when you get through the small arched doorway, you'll run right into the men's restroom door.  To get to the women's restroom, at the men's door I had to take a left, then a right, and go to the end of the hall.  That's the emergency exit door.  But stop there, 'cause the waitress said, "You want the last door on the left."  

Oh, my word!

NO, I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK THERE.  I WANNA GO BACK TO MY HOTEL!"

Speaking of going back:

Spencer asked us, "What time is checkout?

Surprised, I said, "You paid!"

Spencer turned to his dad, "You signed."

John passed the buck, "I didn't have my readers on..."

   

Then it was the city of Inman, South Carolina, with a population of about 3,600 whose main street was lined with thrift stores their revenue supporting animal rescues, and lined with antique shops ... galore. 

We ate at Boots & Sonny's Drive In.  It was packed full of truckers and firemen and local male merchants.  Quite the watering hole for the locals, it was.  Waitress/cashier/delivery woman who was short, wrinkled and as old as Whistler's Mother, was the fastest server of burger and onion rings as I'd ever had in my life!

Inman, South Carolina?  I'd visit that little town again, even if they can't count their cats and keep track of them.  "Oh, he's probably in the basement hunting mice."  

That was a tell -- mice in a clothing, stationery, thrift store?  "Me - OW!"

In one day we left Tybee Island's RV campground, browsed the River Street shops of Savannah, and went through South Carolina to eat at Boot's and Sonny's; what a jam-packed day! 

To-Bee at Tybee '23 - Tybee Island's Wild Life

Tybee Island sports a rough and amateur and private outdoor museum.  Added to yearly, it's always a must to circle twice with the golf cart.  This year the additions are a parrot, and a watering fountain.

Here's what would appeal to a child, most Harry Potter-like!

In a Tybee Island yard, undercover of vegetation, 

a dragon and an alligator, oh my!

In the same yard was this magnificent flamingo.

It's created on a palm tree, using many and varied objects.

   

Can you find a sneaker, lantern, cupcake pan, or hand saws?  

Everything is something.  There's a cane, a sword, chargers, bicycle wheels, snow sled, and hubcaps to name a few in a million!

We turned the corner to chance upon a saber tooth tiger!  Aren't those extinct?  SHEW!

A once around the block, or two, is a must every vacation, 'tis a thrill!

TO-BEE at TYBEE '23 - RIVER'S END CAMPGROUND

                              River's End Campground is a hidden gem 

                                  at the northern tip of Tybee Island.

The blue fish, left, pointed to the entrance.  On the road there we saw loggerhead turtle signs with directional arrows.

Loggerhead turtles are native to Tybee in abundance!

At the campground office we were met by a volunteer and his dog, Tippy, riding the golf cart to lead us to our cabin.  Darling Hubby John says, "Tippy was the man's sidekick, had an important job to do -- keep him motivated."

Next morning, John sleeping in, Spencer in the lower bunk with A/C blowing, enveloping him, and the lights off in his area, I asked if he'd like to share a banana with me.  He says, "I actually tried to eat it 'cause you said, "Here's a half banana." and I expected it to be soft.  But, NO!  It's got the peel."  Well, yah, I figured that was more hygienic!  From there we went to the north shore, took a photo of the sun on the horizon and spied something white and plastic-like all over the sand.  They looked like half broken coke bottles but turns out they were jellyfish.  I'd never seen jellyfish and we were advised not to touch them as some could still sting.  

Here, on the closet door in the cabin, I have my "Pamela's Paradise" bag gifted me from Ian and Nikki, the words so true.  And keys to our locomotion aka naturally air-conditioned golf cart.  And, my coffee hat, which got baptized in dark water on a dark beach in the year twenty-twenty-two by a wind-swept slinger of java, Jeani!  As you can see, it washed out.

According to a female campground volunteer, who we befriended, Tybee means salt, and Lazeretto Creek running through it means "of the dead" or "for the contagious" a final port of call for diseased ship passengers.

As we played card games like Euchre With The Invisible Man, Rummy, and worked the paper's puzzles, we contemplated the volunteers information of Pirate Fest (Oct.), and Christmas Lighted Boat Parade (Dec.),  and Beach Bum Parade (May).  The air was ocean-breeze fresh, the relaxing porch was life's-burdens free, and the blue umbrella over the campground's pool was soul salve, ah.  And then you realize the son, yes, s, o, n, is contemplating a return, a permanent return.  Those festival parades added to the lure of him taking up residence!

The fish, the turtles, the jellyfish, the cabin life make this a hidden gem, I'll just have be a stowaway when he goes, he can consider me extra baggage!  ROFL.

  

 

TO-BEE at TYBEE '23 - HAPPY TRANSPLANTS

                                     Tybeens are happy transplants.

 "Almost Heaven"

Spencer always chats up the service people and shop owners to see if they are native.  He asks if they live on Tybee, do they know what kind of work is available, and are they happy here.  Invariably, they came for a visit, went home to pack, then returned to take up permanent residence.   They're from Ohio, they came from Michigan, they left Boston, they traveled from the end of Tennessee, they brought their family from the middle of Texas!

They express their happiness and contentment in the names on their homes,  the gardens of their yards,  and the adornment of their mailboxes. 

  The Queen Bee

   These brought a smile -- the Queen Bee for me and the school bus mailbox for John who's a bus driver!

  Traveling the island streets, me with camera ready, they joking around, we took the golf cart everywhere.  Spencer paused cattywampus clogging half the street for me to frame and focus.  

John said, "Wow, Spencer!  If this had been an artery we'd be a heart attack!"

"Ah," Spencer replied, "if we were Mexican food this would've been a cleanout!'

This surf board mailbox complimented the Seafoam Shanty.

Spencer began making chicken noises, "Bawk, bawk, bawk."  He was teasing a lone chicken, then spied a clutch of them on the other side amongst the flowers.  "Now I know why the chicken crosses the road.  To get to the other chickens!"  

                                        It was true, LOL.

School House

"School House" on a fish plaque?  Clever I thought.  And a mailbox with barnacles?  Weird. 

Now, we're done with that, off to the Farmers Market.  We didn't even know they had such a thing, and it was fun eating frozen mango pops, buying Georgia olive oil, and checking out the native vegetables while listening to a local band.  

On the way home, still in the golf cart, our path goes right in front of the police station.  Spencer makes a minor vehicular mistake due to his inattentive chattiness and apologizes to no one in particular, "I'm sorry officer, I'm communicating."

John laughs and joins in, "He's only like this when he's been drinking!"

Sheesh, I'm glad we're just joking amongst ourselves and that there never was a policeman around.

"Yah, he's been drinking alright, half and half iced tea.  He's caffeinated!"

Can't stop the joviality.  Can't stop the son.  He's still determined To-Bee a Tybeen transplant.

TO-BEE at TYBEE '23 - SUNDAYS MEN

 

What a warning!  

A-J's Dockside Restaurant's 
stump's green sign read, "The last car that 

parked here is still missing." LOL

My men, John & Spencer, didn't care that it would be a 30 minute wait, "We're here, aren't we?"  Settling into the lawn chairs, under the blue awning, we people watched.

Later, entering the shack-like building from the land-side, we wound through a full dining room, into a wooden slatted porch full of wood tables, on to the dock built over the water that was full of people - there we sat.  Looking around we saw an ally to our right full of long and short tables completely full, too.  Over the years we could never get in because it was so popular.  It was worth it, the fried flounder was delicious.

To John, "Would you like a seaweed salad?"  And I laughed; It was on the menu.

John said, "I don't eat anything that can wrap around my propellor!"

He dropped his jaw and they gave me dirty looks when I said I wanted the jumbo hot dog and fries, "At a sea food shop???"  

Spencer cleared his ear with his finger, "Must be my jet lag."

John clarified, "No, it's not, it's the mountain sickness!"

Gatlinburg Church      

My men, the comedians, were lounging around, it was Sunday after all.  I wondered how they'd take it if I asked for a scripture they'd memorized, but you know my gang, anytime is an opportunity for levity.  Remember I'd just passed out breakfast of sausages, bananas, granola bars, and hot tea.  John muttered, "Granola.  It's like chewing on hay bales."  Then they complied, they shared Bible verses, 

sort of.

  Spencer, "Be ye warm and filled."

  John, "Eat what's set before you."

  Spencer, "Be content in the state you're in."  

Breakfast is over, breakfast clean-up is done, I'm reclining on the pull-out couch, when Spencer recited his favorite joke.

"It's in Revelations, "And when he had opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour."  That's proof."  

"Proof of what," I asked.  

He said, "Proof there's no women in heaven."  ROFL, oh really?

Then John very seriously stood over me and waved his hand over my body, his fingers pretending to sprinkle water, "Bless ye my daughter for thee hath sinned."   GRRRR 

They went off to Tybean Art & Coffee Bar afterwards to bring back the golf cart.  Their golf cart was a royal blue, fit for a queen, I joined them and we were off!

Spencer wanted a pair of sunglasses, I needed a can of air freshener, if you know what I mean -- close quarters, two men, disgusting smells and sounds all around.

John's mantra, cause he thinks it's funny, is "On to Wal-Mart!"

I countered, "How about Dollar General?"

In unison, in stereo, as if practiced, they cried, "DOLLAR GENERAL??????"

Seriously!  Do we always have to go to Wal-mart?  What's with men and Wal-Mart?  Let's get to the bottom of this.  As we crossed in front of the fire department there were 4 men sitting at their picnic table enjoying lunch.  I cried, "STOP!" I was sure they could and would support me, "a member of the fairer sex", you know.  We pulled over.

"Is there a Wal-Mart around here?"  I'm hoping not.  "We need a light blanket or a large beach towel."

"No, not unless you want to go to Wilmington Island", the sitting fireman said.

"What about a thrift store?"

"No-o-o, I don't think so", said the fireman with one foot on the picnic table's bench while standing.

Trying to nudge this fire brigade into a different train of thought, "What about a Meijer's or a souvenir shop?"

"No-o-o, your best bet is Wal-Mart.  15 minutes west," said the third fireman shaking his head and pointing west.  John and Spencer are loving this, laughing outloud.

"Anywhere else?"

"Not unless you go all the way through Savannah to Bed, Bath, & Beyond, but nah, if I was you I'd just go to Wal-Mart,"  the 4th fireman's final decree, ugh.

John and Spencer couldn't stand it, they were belly laughing now.

Turning back to them I threw my hands up, "Uncle.  I give. To Wal-Mart!" And we were off!

MEN!  

TO-BEE at TYBEE '23 - PLACES DOWN I-95

"Where's my phone?!  That's the biggest flag I've ever seen!"  

Driving down I-95 doing 75 I had to take its picture.   

Darling hubby tells everyone, "GPS said 81 mph!  AND SHE ASKS FOR HER PHONE!"

"But, daw-link, if GPS said 81 it wuz only cuz I was keepin' with the flō of traffick."  (If I had to swear on a stack of Bibles, the truth is I pick the fastest car and tail it, m'bad.)

At Love's Truck Stop there was no water in the women's restroom.  I asked clerks, "Can we at least have some bottled water, there's women in there with soap on their hands and no way of rinsing?"  Their reply?  "You can go around the wall to the shower stall.  Otherwise you'll have to buy water."  You're kidding me.  A big concern like that and they can't afford a few bottles of water!!!  Since hubby was waiting and we were to meet the plane, I did a quick move.  I ripped paper towels from the dispensers and dropped them in the bottom of each sink!  That meant that any woman coming in next would do a double take and consider what the problem might be.  It was the best I could do hurriedly.

At a rest area, where we'd earlier stopped, it had bars over the vending machines, a sight I'd never seen before, yet people could stick their hands through to insert money and receive cool drinks.  Walking past it to our truck an 83 y.o. woman seemed concerned.  She couldn't find her car, and since her key fob didn't honk the horn, she decided to hit the trunk release, sure enough, it popped up and she grinned at her lost and found.  She asked us how to navigate the interstate to get back to the city.  She'd come too far and didn't know how to turn around.  John kindly gave her his experienced instructions.

The airport was self-explanatory and pretty with red brick, blue fountains, and green bushes.  "Wait here and he'll come down the escalator", said the information desk blue uniformed lady. So we sat on a bench and watched the travelers entering, the passengers exiting, and the flight personnel change-over, and visited with the couple next to us in the same stage of life.  

Spencer kept us informed via text.  "Stewardess says we're 20 minutes early."

"What's the weather like there?"

"Touch down and landed."  

"Waiting on someone to open da door.  We're like sardines in here."

Inn at Mulberry Grove, the name evoked homeyness, foreign lands, peace.  It was awful.  The first room smelled like the high poster beds and gilded framed mirrors had been dropped in a smelly fishy river and never allowed to dry in the sun!  Oh, so stale!  The second room not so much.  We paid.  "Continental breakfast?"  "We give our customers breakfast to-go bags."  Sure enough there was a granola bar,  powdered doughnuts, an apple, and a bottle of water!  That wasn't the worst.  After settling in we opened the fridge.  Oh!  My!  Lands!  The stench exploded and filled the rooms!  Did dead fish rot in it for a week?!  After showing the housecleaning staff, even the maintenance man recoiled. 

Enmarket, a convenience store, was across the intersection.  When I heard the gentleman cashier say something about accepting payment in copper, I asked if he needed some pennies.  I had $4 worth.  When I laid the rolls on the counter he said, "Sweet!"  

He explained if he takes a hundred dollars to the bank he won't get $100 worth of pennies, he has to take whatever coinage they have.  I asked if he needed other coins, "Yes.  Come back in the morning, speak to the manager."   I did.  I asked how much she wanted.  "How much you got?" as she kept waiting on the line of customers.  "$44",  I replied.  She said, "I'll take it all."  Wow!   

This is something I do.  All year long we save our coins to share on vacation.  

Something else I do is take lots of pictures.  Don't take my phone, never mind the calls, I have to take pictures.  "Look!  It's da plane!  Here, take the wheel."

TO-BEE at TYBEE '23 - RABBIT HILL ROAD

We were lost!

We were in the Appalachian Mountains and we were lost!

We were, specifically, in the Smoky Mountains of the Appalachian Mountains, lost!

The green road sign read "Grindstaff".  GPS was having a fit.

GPS insisted repeatedly, "In 600 yards turn right on Rabbit Hill Road", "In 1,000 feet turn right on Rabbit Hill Road", "In 50 feet turn turn right on Rabbit Hill Road".  Then that branding word seared our brains, "Recalculating."

It took us an hour of "recalculating" to get back to "Grindstaff".  

Darling Hubby had his own fit, fit of embarrassment and self-flagellation.  I enjoyed every minute of it, the scenery, the height of the mountains, the old-time relics, the abandoned vintage trucks, and rickety barns whose wood would be coveted up here.

Before turning onto Ravens Branch Road, we were on this goat path, Rabbit Hill Run; it barely had tire tracks, we barely kept the tires on the tracks!  I wondered who'd turn around if we met another vehicle coming, them or us.  Driving backwards for 2 miles would be a might harder than putting a molted snake back in his skin.  I made a Marco Polo,  "If we don't return, send help, tell them we slid down the banks of Cripple Creek, Tennessee, and we can't get up!"

Turning to John I said, "I can just see it ... we're laying at the bottom of the holler on the crick bank and a Hillbilly with his huntin' dog and rifle comes out of the green thick woods, curiosity making him spit his chaw, "Well, doggies, y'all look more scared than a bunny in a kitchen full of boiling pots."  LOL

So there we were coming out of Rabbit Hill Road, "Turn right onto Ravens Branch Road" coming down the mountain to "Turn right onto Big Creek Road" and seeing all kinds of sights only a mountain man would see, or someone lost in "them there woods".  At first I couldn't discern what I was seeing, as the clues came together to make a conclusion, and our truck got closer, we could see that the ground cover clothing the mountain in a green blanket was also reaching up and over to cover a home and a car! 

  

At this point, we're ready to go back to where this all started. "It all started when" I asked John to stop and let me take a picture of one of

the strangest road sign names I'd seen, Ground Hog Road.  And ready to go back to the intersection where there was a gas station.  After that hour we needed a restroom and some refreshments, and a good stretching of the legs.

The tall full-bodied white-haired lady taking money said she'd worked there over 37 years.  She was stale and dry.  She was functioning robotic-like.  I tried to lighten her day, engaging her in conversation.  She had kids, I had kids.  Hers were grown, mine were grown.  She had grandkids, I had grandkids.  I bought gloves to cut to be a buffer between my skin and the seat belt.  She accepted the cash.  John bought two cups of doctored coffee.  She accepted the cash.

Thank goodness John bought us that coffee, we were all just too dry.

Being lost wasn't all that bad.  Surprisingly I actually felt at home watching the waters rippling alongside the road, seeing the efforts to live comfortably and to beautify simple dwellings, and wondering at the native wildflowers growing anywhere -- trillium, violets, little brown jugs -- especially amongst the rocks shoved aside to make way for the pavement.   All felt familiar, like Kentucky where we took many vacations in the '70's and where my maternal grandparents' lived.

Being lost wasn't all that bad, I rather enjoyed it, all of it.

TO-BEE at TYBEE '23 - JELLICO & PIGEON FORGE

"Welcome," "Y'all!"

     That's what the sign says.

Anxious.  Excited.  Anticipating. 

Those words all describe John in his efforts to get on the road to Tybee Island!  

To chime in with John Denver's song, "His bags were packed and he was ready to go, standing there outside the door" and Spencer would do the "leaving on a jet plane."  Spencer's trip of 1 hour and 26 minutes seemed tasty when compared to ours -- 12 hours split into 3 days of driving.  We did enjoy a giant pause in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, though.  I didn't know if Darling Hubby would be able to handle much of the driving or not, but he was a trooper.  We did split shifts of 1 1/2 hours each.  Not bad.

A stop at Jellico, Tennessee, was where we got the long strand of curly fries, and, I tried to get a nice photo of their picturesque church but it wasn't meant to be.

Jellico is from the name of the angelica herb that grows in the mountains.  The nearby waterway bears the name Jellico Creek.  And here I was imagining a bowl of orange flavored cool wobbly Jell-o wondering if a packaging plant was in the town, LOL.

John did see a sign on the side of a truck, "Why do cows wear bells?  Because their horns don't work!"

Which reminds me of "Why did Curly fry?  Because he had more fat than the other stooges!"

We took a country road around to Pigeon Forge, came up the slight incline and there we were, eyeball to eyeball with King Kong!  I wasn't expecting that.  John said, "I took a wrong turn."  LOL 

As we sat there with our right turn signal on, and cars going to the right in front of us, and the traffic so bad we were gonna have to wait for somebody's kind inviting wave, when an RV passed by.  Three kids were sticking their hands and faces out a window waving and being silly.  I stuck my hand out my passenger window and gave 'em the thumbs up.  They snickered and giggled and embarrassingly pulled away from the glass laughing.  They got a reaction.  I got a reaction.  Success!

Though the road had been narrow and winding, with lots of tall trees, and green hanging overgrowth, we were able to stop at a yard sale in the hills.  The hostess was so sweet and friendly.  She kept giving me un-asked for bargains, "Oh, you can just have those."  And to John, "Take the third tractor, too, you can have it with the others."

She was interesting telling of relocating to Pigeon Forge and loving it except that her son, a CEO of Lowes (Now that was a shocker since she and hubby lived so humbly!  They lived in a mobile home, with weathered wood front porch loaded with rejected furniture from the house, and a pile of discards blocked cars from going over the hill!) didn't come home much any more.  She said it was quiet where she lived and more so in the last few years, but when all the Covid restrictions lifted, it was like a vacuum suck and the valley filled with new people. 

So lady-like she was, with such a "Bless Your Heart" southern drawl.  She wore Daisy Duke short shorts, had an Adele body, and a Dolly Parton voice! 

Leaving there we drove around boulders the size of a dog house, wondered at a squashed roof top of an abandoned barn resting low in the holler, and laughed at an old, very rusty, tractor with its front bucket raised to block a driveway, all the while still excited with anticipation.  We were on vacation!