Who doesn't love a quirky little miss sunshine local family business? Especially once they realize that they exist...
I was digging for an adventure that would not soon be forgotten, so was thrilled to discover that we could actually rent a fully stocked 70's VW camper van right in not-that-far away Snelleville for a weekend getaway to the beach.
Pink Floyd's Dark Side of The Moon streamed out of the radio as we slid into Elmo bright orange shell and vbbbbed (the sound vdubs make) down the road.
Driving the bus is more like boating, with the lack of power (steering) and a massive wheel, so I have no idea how stoner hippies manage. You must be fully engaged with the the vehicle. The combination of wind and passing trucks command absolute concentration and strong pecs.
It seemed like every time we turned on the radio, Pink Floyd circa 1973 was playing, so either the universe is cosmic, or it was some sort of PF anniversary. Every where we stopped, people wanted to talk to us about the van. We couldn't really take credit, but we smiled and offered peace signs.
About 20 hours later, we arrived at the FL panhandle. OK, a bit of an exaggeration, but Elmo does force one to chill, because with a max speed of 60ish, you're not going to get there any faster than you are going.
We parked at the end of the world, or at least the peninsula, at St. Joe's state park, and it was a beautiful thing to pop up the camper bed out of the van's ceiling in a sweet minute rather than struggling with a tent in the dark. We had ocean breeze and the sounds of waves flowing through our cool elevated bed, and were high above the notorious "beach mice" that were scampering inches from the unfortunate tent campers' heads.
After a few days of lazy beach combing, snorkeling, eyeballing alligators and soaking in the pristine coast, we vbbbed home with Pink Floyd twinkling out of the original door speakers (and a little Brian Eno and some GD).
