Not So Sweet Home Alabama

First let me say that the time I spent at Scott & Suzie's home in Birmingham was lovely and wonderful. This morning Jared gave Suzie a note from "heaven" that said 6-year-olds did not have to go to church today. She pointed out to him that it really said they HAVE to go to church. He then asked for the note back so "heaven" could make the appropriate change. What a fun kid!
So, Scott & Suzie's = way fun, getting there and back = not so much.

The main trouble with the route between Ft Walton Beach/Eglin AFB, FL and Birmingham is the fact that I-65 heads North somewhere around Mobile, AL much too far to the west of my starting point. Ergo, I was forced to make my ever-so-merry way using the yellow and even red lines on my atlas. Yes, I tried the Google Maps trick (I'm not entirely computer inept, in fact I consider myself to be rather ept). The search yielded a yard-and-a-half long list of rights, lefts, u-turns and enough different road numbers to win several games of Bingo. So I asked directions of a couple of the guys at work who live here.

That was all well and good until I never did see a turn-off for FL 189 North (which turns into AL 137 North when it crosses the border, go figure) 189 South yes, but no 189 North. I wound up going all the way to beautiful downtown Milton, FL where I asked directions (yes, I may be a male but I do ask for them. Perhaps it's the diminished supply of testosterone) at an official county/city building of some sort. The kind lady behind the glass gave me excellent directions and sent me on my way. Too bad they didn't have a public restroom though as I really need that too.I made it from there to Birmingham without incident until I tried to find Scott's exit.

He told me several times and texted me #246. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Oh no. It seems there is much construction being foisted upon the Birminghamians, especially those who have to use I-65. As I felt I was nearing good old number 246, the entire right side of the road was lined with pretty orange and white striped barrels. No signage, just barrels. Not even overhead signs. I finally saw an exit sign but it had a big yellow caution-type sign right in front of it to the point of blocking all but the arrow. As I got even with it (and PAST the actual exit) I could see the number, 246 (of course). I got off at the next one, called Scott, got his directions and, voila, made it to his house.

For the return trip I was determined to correct my previous error and eliminate the extra 30 miles. This entailed leaving the comfort of I-65 much sooner and entering the wilds of yellow/red lines (mostly red ones).

Let me tell you something about rural Alabama. I should have learned from the movie "Deliverance." Evidently no one has ever left their community, EVER! Hence no one knows how to get anywhere else on the planet. I would have settled for the blind kid with three teeth and a banjo if he could have told me how to get to 137/189.

Also, there are NO speed limit signs in rural Alabama. Sure they have reduced speed ahead signs, but absolutely nothing that would give me from what to reduce it. The Po-Po don't take Sunday off either. On three different occasions I was followed by various and sundry gendarmes who pulled very close behind me then backed off. I can only assume they were running my plate number. I had no idea if I was going too fast or not so I decided to err on the side of slowness. I was almost ready to run my speed up to 70 just so I could ask one of them dhow to get to 137. I did notice that 55 was the road number and not necessarily the speed limit. I also noticed that Red Level, AL is neither.

Somewhere semi-close to the Florida line I was confronted with the choice of either turning right toward Pensacola, FL (too far west, I was looking for Crestview) or continuing straight on a road that was now a county road. Straight ahead I went but it felt too wrong so I opted to turn around in an empty (rats!) National Guard parking lot. I really wanted to ask someone, anyone how to get to bleeding Crestview.

The road toward Pensacola took me to US 90 and then close enough to I-10 that I could u-turn, jump on it and find my way back to Ft Walton Beach and my current abode at the Hampton Inn. I didn't get to make the 189 to 137 switch at the border on the way up nor on the way back but I shan't try again. Not on this trip anyway...