After our visit to WDW on opening day in 1971 Becky and I vowed to return ASAP. We couldn’t make it in 1972 because I had a commitment with a band I was in to play for a national convention in New Orleans. A free trip to the Big Easy was hard to pass up and Becky got to go along at a reduced rate. I believe 1973 was a year necessary to sober up from the NO trip. That town runs on 80 proof morning, noon and all night.
As 1974 rang in we had talked so much about our monumental Disney experience that Becky’s older sister, Janet, said “Let’s go”. Janet had traveled some more than Becky but never to Florida or an ocean. We made tentative plans to travel in the summer but no firm reservations were considered.
In the wee hours of the morning on Saturday, August 24, 1974 we headed south for the sunshine state. We took our Fiat 124 Sport Coupe which was a hard top version of the convertible Fiat Spider. The car was just large enough to pack in the necessities for three twenty something travelers seeking an adventure. We anticipated good fuel mileage because the Fiat had a 5 speed manual transmission. The government change of the speed limit to 55 MPH shot a hole in our good mileage plans. The fifth gear was designed to be most efficient at 60 MPH and above. Since I am one who does not take flash photography when asked not to and abides by posted speed limits I was a little bummed by the unfortunate Italian auto’s ability and the USA hindering speed sanctions.
We still achieved better than 37 MPG overall trip average.
By the time we crossed the Ohio River into KY we encountered a heavy fog. The farther south we traveled the worse the fog got. It eventually developed into the worst conditions I have ever encountered. I had my face plastered against the windshield and still could not see the front of my vehicle and it was a small vehicle. We finally managed to locate a rest area and pulled in behind a semi-truck I had been following for a long while. I got a beach towel out of the car and stretched out on a picnic table. The tension I had undergone was unbelievable but the rest on the picnic table did help. The truckers in the rest area were buzzing about an accident on the highway. The emergency crews were unable to locate the wreck even though they had driven past it several times. The sun was coming up and we hit the road again hoping that the fog would soon burn off. It didn’t lift until early afternoon when we stopped to eat. The chatter in the restaurant was all about the fog and how it was the worst ever.
After some chow I asked Becky to drive for a while. She totally hates driving on the highway with an irrepressible passion but agreed to give me a breather. Janet did not know how to drive a stick shift so Becky was the only option. I am 6’1” and scrunching up in the back seat was a chore but after the hours of apprehensive white knuckles on the steering wheel driving I needed to chill.
All went well for a while until I heard hooping and hollowing coming from outside our vehicle. I reared up and peered out the window at two “good ole boys” in a pickup truck with a rebel flag flapping in the truck bed trying to get the attention of the two females in the little Italian car as it rolled thru Tennessee. When these fellows got glimpse of my blurry eyed face you would thought that General Sherman had raised from the grave and was going to reap havoc on them and their “stars & bars” truck.
They took off like a southern whirlwind never to be seen by these Buckeyes again for the rest of our journey. We all had a real good laugh.
We stopped for the night at a Davis Brothers motel just south of Atlanta and got a much needed good night’s sleep. We awoke fairly early the following morning and ate a free breakfast at the Davis Brothers cafeteria. You could have one entrée and anything else you wanted. This was a really nice way to start our morning.
We piled into the Fiat and made our way to Daytona Beach. We stopped at a Stuckeys and got gas that came with a free box of chocolates with a fill up. Remember when gas stations offered incentive to buy their product?
We arrived at Daytona in early evening and found a room at The Inn On The Beach Motel. The girls called home to let their family know we had arrived safely and everyone went for a swim. Janet thought the ocean was terrific and Becky was happy it was calmer than her first experience three years earlier when hurricane Ginger was off the coast.
Inn On The Beach
View attachment 107906
The next morning I awoke early and rousted the girls from their sleep to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean. Needless to say, I was not high on the list of favorite BIL or DH that early AM. But after viewing the spectacular moment all was forgiven.
View attachment 107907
View attachment 107909
Smiles and forgiveness.
View attachment 107910
View attachment 107911
Becky and Janet wanted to go shopping that morning. They bought some Florida friendly attire and some new bathing suits. I got new swim trunks too. The swimwear for everyone was white. This was OK because it was before Labor Day.
View attachment 107912
View attachment 107913
There is something you don’t see much any longer. No, not a guy sucking in his gut until the photo shutter closes; the diving board. I was told that insurance premiums for hotels/motels with diving boards had later become cost prohibitive.
View attachment 107915
Why we had a beach towel advertising a brew I didn't drink is beyond me. It was the seventies, man!
View attachment 107916
View attachment 107917
As 1974 rang in we had talked so much about our monumental Disney experience that Becky’s older sister, Janet, said “Let’s go”. Janet had traveled some more than Becky but never to Florida or an ocean. We made tentative plans to travel in the summer but no firm reservations were considered.
In the wee hours of the morning on Saturday, August 24, 1974 we headed south for the sunshine state. We took our Fiat 124 Sport Coupe which was a hard top version of the convertible Fiat Spider. The car was just large enough to pack in the necessities for three twenty something travelers seeking an adventure. We anticipated good fuel mileage because the Fiat had a 5 speed manual transmission. The government change of the speed limit to 55 MPH shot a hole in our good mileage plans. The fifth gear was designed to be most efficient at 60 MPH and above. Since I am one who does not take flash photography when asked not to and abides by posted speed limits I was a little bummed by the unfortunate Italian auto’s ability and the USA hindering speed sanctions.
We still achieved better than 37 MPG overall trip average.By the time we crossed the Ohio River into KY we encountered a heavy fog. The farther south we traveled the worse the fog got. It eventually developed into the worst conditions I have ever encountered. I had my face plastered against the windshield and still could not see the front of my vehicle and it was a small vehicle. We finally managed to locate a rest area and pulled in behind a semi-truck I had been following for a long while. I got a beach towel out of the car and stretched out on a picnic table. The tension I had undergone was unbelievable but the rest on the picnic table did help. The truckers in the rest area were buzzing about an accident on the highway. The emergency crews were unable to locate the wreck even though they had driven past it several times.
The sun was coming up and we hit the road again hoping that the fog would soon burn off. It didn’t lift until early afternoon when we stopped to eat. The chatter in the restaurant was all about the fog and how it was the worst ever.After some chow I asked Becky to drive for a while. She totally hates driving on the highway with an irrepressible passion but agreed to give me a breather. Janet did not know how to drive a stick shift so Becky was the only option. I am 6’1” and scrunching up in the back seat was a chore but after the hours of apprehensive white knuckles on the steering wheel driving I needed to chill.
All went well for a while until I heard hooping and hollowing coming from outside our vehicle. I reared up and peered out the window at two “good ole boys” in a pickup truck with a rebel flag flapping in the truck bed trying to get the attention of the two females in the little Italian car as it rolled thru Tennessee. When these fellows got glimpse of my blurry eyed face you would thought that General Sherman had raised from the grave and was going to reap havoc on them and their “stars & bars” truck.
They took off like a southern whirlwind never to be seen by these Buckeyes again for the rest of our journey. We all had a real good laugh.We stopped for the night at a Davis Brothers motel just south of Atlanta and got a much needed good night’s sleep. We awoke fairly early the following morning and ate a free breakfast at the Davis Brothers cafeteria. You could have one entrée and anything else you wanted. This was a really nice way to start our morning.
We piled into the Fiat and made our way to Daytona Beach. We stopped at a Stuckeys and got gas that came with a free box of chocolates with a fill up. Remember when gas stations offered incentive to buy their product?
We arrived at Daytona in early evening and found a room at The Inn On The Beach Motel. The girls called home to let their family know we had arrived safely and everyone went for a swim. Janet thought the ocean was terrific and Becky was happy it was calmer than her first experience three years earlier when hurricane Ginger was off the coast.Inn On The Beach
View attachment 107906
The next morning I awoke early and rousted the girls from their sleep to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean. Needless to say, I was not high on the list of favorite BIL or DH that early AM. But after viewing the spectacular moment all was forgiven.
View attachment 107907
View attachment 107909
Smiles and forgiveness.
View attachment 107910
View attachment 107911
Becky and Janet wanted to go shopping that morning. They bought some Florida friendly attire and some new bathing suits. I got new swim trunks too. The swimwear for everyone was white. This was OK because it was before Labor Day.
View attachment 107912
View attachment 107913
There is something you don’t see much any longer. No, not a guy sucking in his gut until the photo shutter closes; the diving board. I was told that insurance premiums for hotels/motels with diving boards had later become cost prohibitive.
View attachment 107915
Why we had a beach towel advertising a brew I didn't drink is beyond me. It was the seventies, man!
View attachment 107916
View attachment 107917
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