From our motel room we headed out and straight into our
favourite store, Wal-Mart. Supplies were low and so a brief shop was required.
This Wal-Mart was different in its lay out, which felt wrong as every other
store we’d passed through had been laid out exactly the same way as those
before it. It made our shop slightly longer as we could no longer make B-lines
for the necessary groceries but soon enough we had another couple of day’s food
and water sorted.
We checked the oil, power steering fluid and water levels
before moving on to discuss what exactly we wanted to do as we had drawn blanks
on gun ranges and mud-bogging the night before blogging and Facebook took over
the evening. As it was Sunday we had hoped that there would be some kind of
local events or activities going on, as so far we have discovered America loves
its weekends for getting away and taking part in a wide range of pursuits. Unfortunately
nothing was happening in Mobile, AL. We had grabbed a few leaflets from the
motel and flicked through and decided as the two forts were well over an hour’s
drive away that the USS Alabama memorial, battle cruiser and submarine museum
was a good shout and at the very least it was something a bit different.
We arrived just before lunch and decided to fill up on
sandwiches before wandering through the rather large looking vessels. Once we’d
eaten I made a B-line for an old bomber parked at the edge of the car park to
get a few pictures.
After, we carried on through to the war memorials for
all the men from Mobile lost in the Vietnamese and Korean wars. There is always
something tragic and chilling about war memorials as you walk along and read
the names. Although it gave me a brief moment to come back down to earth and
think about the career I’m looking to go into when I return home. It didn’t
take me long to decide it’s very much a path I want to walk down despite the
obvious risks.
Once we’d read all the names front and back and still with
chills running down my spine with the motto “All gave some, Some gave all” running
through my head we wondered on to more war machines dotted around the car park.
A nice array of tanks, field guns and the like lined the roadway. Most were
looking a little worse for wear as the sea ate away at what the enemy couldn’t
damage. Again we pondered at the engineering of the time; these were crafted
without the aid of modern technology, making it even more staggering that they
could be produced so quickly when they were required.
Finally we were done with the car park and it was finally
time to head into the museum, I say museum it’s actually a battle cruiser sat
in the Gulf of Mexico. This particular cruiser, the USS Alabama, was part of
the large Armada that took on the Empire of Japan in WWII. While apparently it
only ever ran a crew of 65 men and 7 officers it was absolutely huge. In 2 or 3
hours we barely got anywhere through the warrens of corridors and stairs below
deck. It was an interesting walk to say the least from guns, canons all the way
through to clever stow away stools in the canteen. Along the tour route we
stumbled across room after room dedicated to those who didn’t make it home, the
Alabama alone lost 3 Commanding officers in 3 years of war, along with hundreds
of crewmen. Also there were dedications to the men and vessels lost from the
supporting fleet. Again it was sobering and chills ran down my spine as I tried
to imagine what it was like for them.
USS ALABAMA
Engineers high-tech lap top
We eventually made it above deck and headed through the
officer’s quarters to the control room, or whatever the navy call it. There was
not a lot to see as much was still cordoned off for restoration. So we headed
down and into the aircraft hangar back on dry land. We wondered the few planes
that were dotted about but they all seemed a bit samey and the ropes kept you
so far away it was hard to really get up close and personal to see the way they
were constructed so we headed almost straight through and to the submarine
outside. Again a lot was still being renovated but it was amazing to see how
confined it all was. We decided that Chris would most definitely never make it
as a submariner, as the door ways and bunks were all much, much too small for
him. Although in the torpedo bays there was actually quite a lot of headroom
although with a full crew it would have been rather snug.
TORPEDO BAY
Once we had wandered enough it was time to get back on the
road and make it into another state and another place to crash. We took the
I-10 west for a while, the traffic was light and progress was good. We had
spotted a few campgrounds on the map which has been a huge help in the past and
handed over the co-ordinates to the not so trusty sat-nav once more. We turned
off on to the ms-63 which narrowed and became 2 lanes, it wasn’t an issue as
the back country is always a more relaxing drive, then we turned again onto
what can only be described as rough “roads”.
Unsure of what the navigation was planning for us we trucked on, going
against better judgement for a change.
Soon the road was no longer tarmac or
concrete but a blend of red sand and scalping’s. Before long we had lost our
bearings and were less sure of our direction of travel than a drunk on a
merry-go-round. The map was pulled out but it didn’t show these smaller roads
at all. We ploughed on looking for a major highway number on any one of the signs,
there were no signs, and so we just kept driving till the light faded behind
the tree line. Now with the candle powered lights on our progress slowed to a
crawl, we certainly didn’t want another tree incident.
Sometime later we re-emerged on MS-26 and headed for the
general location of the campgrounds on the map, the navigation lost the plot
and demanded we turned through people’s back yards and up driveways so was
quickly shut off and hurled under the seat. We followed the highway in the
general direction of the nearest interstate knowing that if we failed to find a
campsite we could make a rest stop within an hour or so. Fortunately just over
the next hill and round a few corners we stumbled upon a nice big sign with
CAMPING ß written
upon it. With the goliath squirrelling under breaking and a large thud as
everything slid to the right hand side, we were finally headed for a place to
stop.
Or so we thought, again the road turned to dust and we ploughed
our way looking for any form of sign, again with no luck. To pass the time we
joked about the sign and how it had probably been put up by a serial killer. Which
was funny until we started passing the odd mobile home with wrecked cars out
front, then it was just plain creepy. Finally we met with a sign pointing to
Cypress Creek landing. It didn’t state weather or not there would be camping at
the end of the trail but we had to find out as it was now well past our bedtime.
We were in luck, we had arrived to an eerie uncared for campsite, we checked
ourselves in and grabbed a large area with a picnic bench and settled down to
cook under… well it was pitch black; so torch light. We hit the hay not long after and while Chris nodded off, I
found myself to be uncomfortably warm and so much tossing and turning occurred before
I joined him in the land of nod.
I woke up at around 730 shortly followed by
Chris, I packed up my things and in a slightly half unconscious state reached
for the rear passenger door, which as you may remember has never opened since
day one. It didn’t open, but I could feel the mechanical clunk of the latch
being released so with a few cautious attempts failing I gave it a bit of
abuse, she opened, finally we didn’t have to clamber out over the front seats. After
a short celebration we cleaned up had our breaky and I finally thought it was
time to get a run in as we were completely alone. Exhausted after a 10 minute
sprint I headed back and got into the last of my clean clothes, Chris set up
his go-pro and we hit the “road” once more, hoping we’d find our way back out.
So stay tuned to find out.
B.