At 8:19 a.m., Ron stopped the Atlas at the Newport News Campground entrance, checking traffic on Rte. 143 before turning right and heading to I-64 to begin the 8-hour drive to Palmetto Shores, outside of Santee, SC. We will spend the night there before heading to Ponte Vedra Beach to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Players Cup Championship.
“What is he doing?” I asked Ron, seeing the 18-wheeler driver motioning to us as he passed.
Looking at our side mirrors, neither of us could see anything wrong with the trailer. But we knew something happened when the black pick-up truck driver also motioned to us.
Immediately, Ron put on the blinker and pulled to the side of the road. Jumping out of the truck, I found the sewer hose behind the trailer; the front part squashed from running over it.
“The cap came off,” Ron said. We bent and looked under the trailer, where the tube that housed the hose attached. We could see the cap flying in the wind.
“Life as a gypsy, always something,” Ron said once we secured everything and returned to the road. Our first long trip with the Atlas exposed all the weaknesses.
“Thank God it didn’t fly off and hit someone. Shit boxes, all of them.”
Ron’s description of RVs holds true. Every one has their issues, and driving your house behind you has pros and cons.
Arriving at Palmetto Shores RV Resort, we quickly discovered the missing dog pen. While Ron leveled the trailer, I emptied the boot, our usual routine, getting the dogs out of their travel crate ASAP. Unfortunately, we left their pen at OBX, not realizing it until now. Since the closest Walmart requires a 22-minute drive, the dogs will enjoy more walks.
Since we usually overnight in December on our way to Florida, we never get to eat at the Lake House restaurant, which has closed for the season. But not tonight. I made reservations for 6:30 at the best table to watch the sunset. Ron’s excitement contrasts mine, but my wonderful husband humors me well.
“Puppies, I’m so sorry.” Ron keeps apologizing to the dogs for the missing dog pen, blaming himself since he packed up that morning from OBX. Calling the campground, they confirmed what we thought: we left the pen there.
With temperatures in the high 70s, sitting outside the camper in the shade refreshes the soul.
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“That’s an alligator skin,” Ron said, looking towards the middle of the Lake House restaurant’s dining room.
“There’s the head,” I said, spotting it below the mammoth skin.
Surrounded by golfers, we learned Santee draws in the lovers of the game. We played here once, at Christmas, with our friends Sharyn and Lanny Simpson. I didn’t realize the area’s popularity for the game then.
“You know, my best friend’s name is Lori,” I said to the waitress at the Lake House.
“Oh yeah, how does she spell it?”
“L-O-R-I.”
“Mine’s L-O-R-R-I-E. My mom was weird.”
“I think it’s beautiful.” Just like her. Lorrie made our dinner at the Lake House special with her beautiful smile and warm, inviting spirit.
“Come see us on your way back,” she said as we left
Maybe we will, I thought.
The evening ended with a fire. Traffic from I-95 serenaded us on the quiet March evening. The dogs sniffed around our feet, their territory limited because of the leash. Ron scrolls on his phone as I update the blog. And we all enjoyed a quiet evening in Santee.
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After a leisurely morning, we left just before eleven, heading for our final destination. Ron cooked breakfast on the grill while I took the dogs for a long walk and chatted with our neighbors.
Sunshine escorted us to the Sunshine State, arriving at Flamingo Lake RV Resort just after 3:00 p.m.
“I didn’t think we would be here,” Ron said as we sat at Boston’s Pizza, having drinks and an app after settling into our site.
When we went to the hospital two weeks ago and discovered I had another blood clot, Ron gave up hope of coming to the Players.
“I just can’t wait to see them hit the ball,” he said. The sparkle in his eyes and the excitement in his voice made me praise God for bringing us on the trip.
We never know God’s plans. What we deem harmful, God uses as a blessing in disguise. Now that I’m on blood thinners, under my doctor’s careful watch, I don’t worry like I did before. I can travel and explore the beauty of the Lord’s work.
May we run the wheels off of the Atlas and several trailers after it.
Lord willing, we will.
But for now, I thank God for this trip with my Honey. Thank You for bringing him so much joy!
My heart overflows at his happiness. I’m thankful I didn’t ruin it for him!
“Come on, Sophia, jump!”
For some reason, Sophia can’t see the bottom step in the Atlas. Ron added reflective tape to the edge to make the stairs more visible, but it hasn’t helped. After whining for a bit, she eventually jumps over it. Old dogs and cataracts add spice to life.
“Look at us, we’re already in our 90’s,” Ron said as we planted our chairs on the second day behind the 8th tee.
Sitting waiting for the next players to arrive, I have time to reflect on our first day at the Players. Neither of us knew what to expect, both anxious and excited. Initially, we planned on arriving around 10:00 a.m., but our plans changed when we saw the tee sheet and realized Scottie Scheffler teed off at 8:40.
Hustling, we hit the road at 8:00, arriving just before 9:00. We came in the back entrance via a 10-plus-minute drive down a single-track dirt road. When we finally came to the gate, we felt relief.
With a quarter-mile walk to the entrance, the “Welcome” sign brought relief. Entrance through the gate with our e-tickets took seconds, and before we knew it, we entered Stadium Village.
“Talk about torture, knowing the golf was right there, but we had to shop first.”
Ron patiently let me buy hats and a water bottle since I couldn’t bring mine into the park. The 24oz Tervis bottle costs $40 and serves as a souvenir. Since 16 oz disposable bottles cost $4.50, and Ron’s beers cost $10 a piece, I felt like the tumbler paid for itself. By the time we left, I calculated the cost at $45 for the amount of water I drank if I had bought disposable.
Deciding to walk the course backward, we had a pleasant surprise waiting for us. Our favorite players started the day on the back nine. We discovered Max Homa and Matt Fitzpatrick on the green of 16, and as we walked down the hole, we watched Scottie Scheffler, Ricky Fowler, and Justin Thomas hit their approach shots. Mission one accomplished, seeing these guys.
Walking the back nine, we ran into many of our favorite players and got plenty of exercise. Trees lined the cart paths, providing shade. Restrooms with water fountains made it easy to stay hydrated.
We watched Wyndham Clark tee off on 10. We caught Feanau, Lowry, and Zalatoris finishing a hole, which one I can’t remember. On 12, we watched Theegala hit his approach shot from the rough. We found Charlie Hoffman on the green, the current Waste Management Champ and veteran on the tour, who took two strokes to finish the hole.
Lunch cost $36. I had a $6.75 hotdog with a $5 bag of chips. Ron ate a $10 turkey wrap with chips and a beer. We sat in the pine straw under a tree and watched the Megatron before heading to hole one to catch the afternoon tee times: Rory Mcilroy, Jordan Speith, and Adam Scott, to name a few.
Jordan had little chance of making the cut, so when his ball landed directly in front of me, I took advantage of it. Watching the players ignore the crowd, stay focused on their game, and execute their strategy impressed me. Their mental toughness inspires me.
Talking to the volunteers made me want to become one. Everyone friendly and welcoming, they made our experience more enjoyable. Next year I plan on applying for a position. They have 2000 volunteers from 41 states working here.
On Saturday at hole 8, we saw Ricky Fowler, Tony Fennau, Joel Dahlmen, Tommy Greenwood, and many others sitting at our primo spots.
After spending the morning on hole 8, we decided to walk backward down the front nine so we covered the entire course. Along the way, we stopped to watch different players.
At number 4’s green, we watched Rory miss his birdie shot, parring the hole.
Then we headed to the third green, where we spent the rest of our time, staying until the last group went through. A few sprinkles fell on us, but other than that we had beautiful weather for our first visit to the Players.
My phone died after I took the picture of Maverick, so I used Ron’s phone for the last few groups. Trying to preserve his battery, he had the screen dimmed, making it harder to take the shots.
And that’s a wrap on the 2024 Players. We learned a lot, smiled a lot, and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere and incredible golf. For all my pictures from the championship, click here.
At 7:36 a.m. Ron backed the Atlas out of 262 and pointed the rig northward. Because of the low branch in front of our site, he decided the best way forward started with a step backward. And away we went to Northpointe RV Resort. We plan on cleaning the camper and doing laundry at our last stop before reaching home tomorrow.
“‘Bye Flamingo Lake. Probably won’t stay there again. Although, you know what?”
“It’s a great stop off the interstate,” I said, cutting off Ron’s thought. Agreeing, we headed north towards home