There’s a lot of talk here about how “Old Florida” is disappearing. Kitschy roadside attractions are being paved over for gated homes along golf courses, and old timey family diners are being squeezed out by Chick Fil A and Olive Garden. It’s like this in a lot of the country, as Americans allow national chains to destroy the very things that make our hometowns unique.
We get a kick out of finding new, divey places to check out. In the last couple of weeks, we’ve found two great places that are sadly, a dying breed: Archie’s Seabreeze on Hutchinson Island, and Mrs. B’s in Vero Beach, off I-95.
We didn’t find them on our own; our online friend Chelsea told us about Archies, and the locals we met at Earl’s told us about Mrs. Bs.
It’s that time of year when everyone asks, “What did you do for New Year’s Eve.”
I’ve never quite understood what the big deal is about this one night a year when everyone can get away with getting liquored up. In fact, you’re supposed to. But I just consider it amateur night. I don’t need a reason to get drunk.
If you ask me, every day is New Year’s. In fact it was Saturday, January 5th one year ago tonight, as I write this. But never mind me. I’ll tell you what we did anyway. We got liquored up.
I’ve always wanted to visit Appalachia, and when I found out that we were within spittin’ distance to the Floyd Country Store music venue in Virginia, it was a given we’d make it to their legendary Friday Night Jamboree.
And what a lucky night for us; we were graced with the presence of the governor of Virginia, Tim Kaine, and the past governor Mark Warner. They were there campaigning for local Dems, but they weren’t there just to give stump speeches; they actually play banjo, harmonica and guitar, and joined in with Blacksburg’s own Jugbusters!
Down the road from Jim’s sister’s house in Troy, lies Forest Park Cemetery, one of the most haunted cemeteries in the U.S. With it being October and all, and us being the ghoul loving, dia de los muertos revelers that we are, we just had to see this place for ourselves.
Yesterday, I forgot what day of the week it was. I honestly couldn’t remember if it was my birth DAY or not! Or maybe I was in denial. But once I realized that it was the 8th, and I was another year wiser, I committed to celebrating the big day.
So, we indulged on awesome grub. On my birthday, I was going to eat and drink whatever I wanted and enjoy it without guilt! We were in Wisconsin, so what else could we eat, but dairy! Lots of it!
Before I forget, here’s a quick review of a watering hole to hit for any budget-minded drunkard. Grandma’s Sports Garden in Duluth has $4.00 pitchers of Long Island Iced Tea! I think this may be a Happy Hour special, though I’m not certain. I do know the hour we spent there was pretty happy. We got four decent sized drinks out of one pitcher, along with a decent buzz. They weren’t too sweet and not too strong. Just right. A long way from the Square Cow Fun Bar drinks of so many years ago.
Upon arriving at the Lake Head Boat Basin Marina, we drove by the Garden and didn’t think twice about hitting the sports bar scene. But after hearing about this bargain, we were more than happy to follow advice from a couple fun loving locals down on the docks. What we didn’t care so much for was the particular racial epitaph one of these very blonde guys used multiple times to describe certain people in parts of town we shouldn’t visit.
I think one of the hardest things about this trip will be trying to remember everything about all of the interesting places and colorful characters we are meeting along the way. There’s simply not enough time nor photos to tell this whole story.
For instance, we had planned to stay at Cow Creek campground one evening along the banks of the Mighty MO on our way to Fargo, ND. When stopped by road construction, the flagger walked up to ask about our truck and we ended up chatting for a bit. That’s whatchya do in these parts donthchyaknow.
By the time he waved us on, good ol’ Henry Huft had told us that he will never where a hat – though it was 106 degrees out – because he was born without a hat, and he’ll stay that way. He also told us that we just had to go on to Hoven for a steak at Boone’s Bar and Grill, and that for vegetarians they had big shrimp and a salad bar. Read the rest of this entry »
I gotta give Raul an A for Effort for the biscuits and gravy he made us yesterday. After all, they were the first thing ever cooked in our new fifth wheel’s little oven, he used Rene’s homemade “Bisquick” mix, and the gravy was from Tony Chachere’s Southern Pantry White Gravy Mix – a decent standby for quick homemade biscuits and gravy. But I must say the Coffee Pot in Sedona, AZ has served up the best biscuits and gravy on this trip so far.
Famous for serving up a menu of 101 different omelets since the 1950′s, this colorful and comfortable southwest restaurant is named after the nearby Coffee Pot rock – one of the many prominent red rock buttes surrounding Sedona, AZ. The service is fast and friendly. The coffe is good, and the leave the hot pitcher on the table so you can fill the unique handmade mugs which are available for purchase in the gift shop.
Since I felt it mandatory to order an omelet at a place that offers 101 varieties, I opted for a biscuit instead of toast and asked for a side of country gravy. A good decision indeed. The cut cake pan style biscuit was tall, fluffy and golden brown. The gravy was creamy with a smooth consistency and quite flavorful. Crispy hashbrowns and a tasty mushroom, avocado and swiss cheese omelet made this my best breakfast yet in our travels.
Nowhere does a long neck Bud taste better than in a dark old bar in a hot dusty Arizona town. This bar has to be one of the oldest. And this town is definitely one of the dustiest.
The Sultana Bar in Williams, AZ claims to have the longest operating liquor license in the state of Arizona. And they didn’t mind us bringing in Jerry so we just had to stop and whet our whistles.
From the stamped tin roof to the rough hewn log table where we sat by the window with Jerry this place simply exudes the Old West. The cowboy boots and hats warn by half the patrons are definitely authentic. As are the tattoos and long hair worn by the other half. While the Tommy Hilfiger clad tourists tend to pop their heads in and quickly leave, the locals we met were certainly friendly enough.
The well-stocked full bar is adorned with quite a collection of antique novelty liquor bottles and taxidermy. A large Moose watches over the door while a bear and mountain lion keep an eye on the crowd. The beer is cold and online reviews of the Sultana indicate they mix a good stiff drink. The juke box blares a raucous eclectic mix, inside and out. Bar munchies are available and live music can be heard on weekends. More good news: Arizona Bars are now smoke free. In our book, this is an A+ joint.
There’s a lot of talk here about how “Old Florida” is disappearing. Kitschy roadside attractions are being paved over for gated homes along golf courses, and old timey family diners are being squeezed out by Chick Fil A and Olive Garden. It’s like this in a lot of the country, as Americans allow national chains to destroy the very things that make our hometowns unique.
We get a kick out of finding new, divey places to check out. In the last couple of weeks, we’ve found two great places that are sadly, a dying breed: Archie’s Seabreeze on Hutchinson Island, and Mrs. B’s in Vero Beach, off I-95.
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