Christmas, FL

The trip to Christmas was an easy one. But my DeLorme led me astray. It knows not to put me on Interstates now. But most of the Christmas trip was on FL "Parkways". Which are just like Interstates except they charge tolls. So now my exclusions include "Interstates" and "Toll Roads". It's all a learning experience.

One of the new Whirly Girls I met in Orlando said, "I live about 10 minutes from Christmas. We should get together while you're there." We exchanged numbers but I'm so used to "Y'all come over sometime." that I didn't expect to hear from her. Well, I got a text message after I arrived at Christmas. "Well, are you all set up? I'm coming by there in an hour on my way back from a job interview in Orlando. Want to do something?"

So we talked for awhile, then went to the Tosohatchee Wildlife Management Area for a two hour hike. It was really strange "hiking" on totally flat ground. But beautiful wildflowers, miles of palms and palmettos, and several incredibly beautiful still ponds which reflected everything.

Then we came back to Christmas, where the ladies of the park were giving away dinner. They'd had a board of director's dinner meeting the night before and nobody showed up so they had all this left over food. Typical FL meat and starch but nice, with nice people. Although Sandra noticed, "These people are so old." I haven't told her yet that many of them were very close to my age. Maybe tomorrow - or maybe not.

Wed I fixed dinner here after she'd come back from two job interviews. She's not having a lot of luck. She just got her Helicopter Instructor Rating. But with less than 500 hours, it's a matter of finding a company willing to make an exception and break their own rules about experience requirements. Being a pretty, young Danish blonde should help. But no luck yet.

Thur I got on my Honda and went to Ormond Beach to Bike Week. Yes, it's in Daytona but a lot of activities have moved up to Ormond because there's a new City Council Woman in Daytona that hates bikes and bikers and would like to ban the whole thing. Ormond, on the other hand, welcomes them with open arms. Rightly so. It's estimated that the 600,000 bikers will spend over $300,000,000 in a week. At the prices I saw, I believe it.

The main reason I went is that the Jessy, the Mandolin Player from Cypress Gardens was there playing fiddle with a group. I wanted to hear her play, say, "Hi" and thank her again for the luthier. I left my bass expecting to pay $175 for a bridge and $200. for strings. He straightened my warped bridge saying, "It's better than a new one because they can't get wood like this anymore." and charged me $20. When I told him I'd be playing mostly Bluegrass, he recommended a $120. set of strings that he sold me for $85 instead of the $200. set I had expected to buy.

Well it turns out she's playing there from noon to 2:00 every day this week and weekend. But Thursday was the only day she didn't have another gig in the evening at least 60 miles away. As she put it, "It's my half-day off." So we spent three hours roaming around the "World Famous Iron Horse Saloon." listening to music, drinking beer, eating food and talking. Again, pictures will be available, but they're on her camera so it'll be a few days before she finishes Bike Week, recovers and emails them to me. I GOTTA start remembering to take my camera places. Here's a really poor picture I took with my cell phone.

Along with the hundreds of beautiful tricked out bikes, there were a few weird ones. I don't know what kind of a statement this guy was trying to make, but it sure got its picture taken a lot.

It really is a stuffed bison head.

Oh, and the pictures were taken "inside" the Iron Horse Saloon. I couldn't find a building that you could actually go into and sit down. It's about a 3 or 4 acre compound with a stage and bleachers, beer booths, food booths and a "balcony" all the way around and lots of room to park bikes.

I bought my bike from a guy who had purchased a bigger one because "That little 600 just isn't a bike to take cruising." I rode about 160 miles, mostly on I-95 at 65 and 70 mph. I would have told you Thur evening that the guy was wrong. It was a nice ride. But when I woke up Fri morning, I couldn't move. My "Core Muscles", as a Pilates instructor would call them, felt like somebody had gotten inside of me and chopped them all up with a knife. Well, this IS all a learning experience. And I've definitely learned not to do that again.

So today was pretty much spent in bed feeling sorry for myself. Except three Canadian couples that I met in Sarasota and Cypress Gardens asked me to join them for dinner. They're heading home tomorrow morning. Taking their sweet time since yesterday"home" got above -10c for the first time in months. And the "warm spell" isn't expected to last.

Sandra's Dad arrives tomorrow from Denmark for a two week visit. So I'm back to "all alone" for awhile. If I don't feel better, I guess it won't matter. But I'd really like to get the bass out and practice some before the Bluegrass Festival next weekend. I don't have any idea if it's like Galax with groups getting together all over the parking lot or if it's all professional with just stage shows. But if I don't get a chance to play, the same weekend is a BIG airshow at Titusville and Jessy is playing Celtic fiddle at a couple of St. Patty's Day parties. So I'll just rest for the next few days.

Moving On to Christmas, FL

Monday was my last day in the Orlando area. But before moving on, I gotta a couple of "in betweens". They just keep happening. I have a campground directory that I used to find an Orlando area campground. There were two listed. The one I called from Cypress Gardens was full. The kind lady gave me the name of the other one in the book, which was right next door to her. Then she added, "And here's another smaller one that's really nice." I called the second one and they didn't answer their phone. So I called the one that I never would have found without her help. It had space, was the same price and was 6 miles closer to the convention.

Monday evening, I was feeling a little lonely. The convention and my friends had left town. It was the first time I was "alone" since I'd left. I walked around the campground for about an hour. Nobody very friendly. Not like Airstreamers. Then I saw a man and his son outside their motorhome - and it had VA plates. "Hi, where in VA?" "We're from Williamsburg. My son is down here getting his pilot's licenses and I flew down to visit him." "Really, I had an aviation insurance agency in Salem for 30 years." "Oh, we have always done business with the Hargrove Agency." "With Ray Tyson?" "Yeah, he's been a good friend for 20 + years." And we talked for about an hour about mutual friends and whether I'm going to be down here for the Sun & Fun Fly-in next month. Then on my way to Christmas, FL, I got a phone call from Stuart Boblett, a long time pilot friend and insurance client from Roanoke. He said, "Where are you?" I told him and asked where he was. He said, "I'm standing in the lobby of the Kissimmee Airport and I just met a fellow that says he saw you last night." Stuart is flying back down here next week and we may get together for lunch. SMALL world. And I guess I can't be "alone" even if I tried to hide !

Here's a picture taken out my Airstream window.

Yes, those are ripe oranges !

Map - from Kissimmee to Christmas, FL (yes, that IS a real town.)

Whirly Girls

The convention ended today. My main work with the WG's is to help set up their booth, sell for 3 days, take down and pack their booth and schlep it the full length of the Convention Center to FedEx. Talk about a busman's holiday. Well, and keep three or four of them company each evening at the banquets and parties so they don't constantly have male helicopter pilots hitting on them. Tough duty, but someone's got to do it.

One of my friends is the first female NAVY helicopter pilot. Her husband is an astronaut, but not a helicopter pilot. At a huge gathering of friends, someone asked their young son what he wanted to be when he grew up. He said, "I don't know. Mommy, can boys be helicopter pilots, too?"

I made it through Wed, Thur, and Fri nights with 4 hrs sleep each night. Some of the younger WG's called me a weanie because THEY slept four hrs TOTAL for the three nights.

I SHOULD have some pictures, but they're all on WG's cameras. They promised to email them to me but I suspect they're still recovering.

One more "in between" I got there Wed afternoon. I knew the girls were setting up the booth but I didn't have the Booth Coordinator's cell phone number. And I needed an "Exhibitor's Pass" to get in early. The only phone number I had was the President's. The booth isn't her responsibility and I knew she was slammed with everything she had to get done. I agonized. "I know I could be a big help." "Pres. is so busy, I hate to bother her." Back and forth for 10 or 15 minutes. I finally decided I wouldn't bother the Pres. and put my phone back in my pocket. Just as I did, I heard, "Tom, why aren't you in the booth?" It was the President running from one meeting to another. Every Day, maybe little, maybe big. But every day.