From Cumberland, I continued on to Fernandina Island, where I pulled into a marina, with howling winds, to meet Kenny Richards tomorrow, who will ride south with me for a day.
I remember coming to Fernandina Beach in 1989, and the guys from the Dredge McFarland insisting I come and eat lunch with them in the first time I’d been in a bar in my life. It is the oldest bar in Florida, and the wood, ceiling, and floor are historical. I walked up and ate a hamburger as I reflected.
No comments:
Post a Comment