Sidelines Sports Bar | Pensacola Beach

Saturday - 9 November 2002: Navarre, Florida - I suppose I should be starting a new section of my journal, but we are still Beach-Side, so will open a new section when we begin our Westward Ho. Any day now.

We woke to torrential rains. It was 75 degrees, mind you, but pouring buckets. We had plans, just delayed them a bit. DT drove over to Santa Rosa Island to run on the bike path along the beach and I watched the Food Network and coughed. By the time DT returned, the clouds had parted and the sun was shining.

Navarre has one of the largest Flea Markets in the south. We had never visited a Flea Market, so thought this would be a good place to experience the phenomena. Also, Snickers had just received his monthly dose of flea drops and tablets, so we thought he would be safe. Snickers was only allowed in part of the market, but DT and I were allowed to explore every inch of the junk-filled maze. I had always thought the stuff in flea markets was used junk, like a giant garage sale. My parents went to the largest flea market in the entire world, in Quartzsite, Arizona - and they said most of the junk is new. We spent two dollars and now have a set of 5 assorted chip clips and a set of 3 stainless steel strainers. Not bad. Pretty much anything you could ever want you could find at a flea market. CDs. Gaskets. Tupperware. Avon. Tomatoes. T-shirts. Leather handbags. Knock-off sunglasses. Socks. Teeth-whitening Preparations. Tools. Dishes. Toys. Antiques. Coins. Pecans. Korean pottery. Velvet Jesus paintings. Paperback books. Knives. Dog ID tags. Carpets. NASCAR mouse pads. Plants. Grocery items. Paintings (a.k.a. "art"). Kitchen items. Shoes. Leather jackets. Incense burners. "Your Name on a Grain of Rice". Actually, it was fun, but - new or used - junk is junk. And when a "musician" started singing Margaritaville with a Karaoke machine - we had to go.

We took our tired dog back to the motorhome to sleep the afternoon away, and we drove over to Santa Rosa Island to Sidelines Sports Bar on Pensacola Beach to watch the Ducks lose to the Cougs. Talk about opening a can of Whoop Ass. When the Ducks scored, I blew my Duck call. The boys at the other end of the restaurant (unseen by us) make fake fart noises. Lovely. The only good thing about the afternoon was the delicious chicken wings and the cute waitresses. The wings were meaty, like the wings at ESPN Zone in Orlando, yet crunchy like the wings at Casey's Sports Bar on Hilton Head. So now, Sidelines Sports Bar has the Best Wings of the Trip So Far award. As we walked out to the parking lot, music from the Calypso Bar next door floated over... "Permanent Reminder of a Temporary Feeling... Jimmy is everywhere.

I took Snickers for a long walk and chatted with the crowd at the communal campfire - this campground is very friendly - and came home just minutes before the skies opened again. A soggy ending to a drippy day.

RV Park: Navarre Beach Campground