It was late afternoon by the time we pulled into the Meaher State Park RV Campground on the Eastern Shore of Mobile Bay last Friday afternoon. We got the last campsite right by the water. We had perfect weather for the whole trip. Lots of sunshine, blue skies, and a nice cool breeze.
While Mike got our rig set up (he even let me help once), my sister Katie called home to check on husband Randy. Randy was supposed to be with us, but had some last-minute problems. After a five-hour trip, we couldn’t wait to get comfortable and rest for a little while before tracking down a restaurant for supper.
About halfway of our trip to Mobile we stopped at a Flying J to gas up and have lunch at Denny’s. My last experience with Denny’s was back years ago at a time when it began to look and feel a little rundown. But, for the sake of time I was willing to give it a go. Well, Denny’s must have gotten a new lease on life by hooking up with the Flying J’s. They had new construction going on, the food was to die for, and the service was above and beyond. Katie and I were eyeballing the strawberry shakes in the nice fluted glasses, and finally said, what the hey. You only live once. While we salivated over the menu, the waitress brought the shakes — with real strawberries — plus the run over which she brought in the cold metal containers. We had enough for two strawberry shakes. We didn’t let them go to waste, either. You know, waste not want not.
I ordered the Zesty Nacho after the waitress assured me my eyes and mouth wouldn’t belch flames. It had everything a taste bud could ask for. Mike had a huge, tall burger on a cheddar bun. It would take me a year to eat that thing. As it was, my nacho was so big (the half-size even) that most of it wound up in a to-go box. It may have been because of my itty bitty bird-like appetite . . . Orrrr . . . because I hogged down two strawberry shakes. I choose . . . bird-like appetite. He he. Don’t try this at home, boys and girls.
After getting settled in at the campsite, Mike Googled a seafood restaurant close by while Katie and I freshened up. We were pulling into the crammed-full parking lot of the Oyster House Restaurant less than five minutes after locking up the fifth-wheel and hitting the road. We had to wait to be seated, but, boy, was it worth it. I haven’t eaten that well twice in one day since forever.
We had a window seat overlooking the water as the sun was setting. A ghostly Mobile skyline hinted at the city across the bay, a bay that was aflame with molten sky and water. A small fishing boat with two people was silhouetted alone against the growing darkness, still alive with color. It looked like something out of a storybook.
It was hard to pull my eyes away, and I tried taking some pictures with my cell phone. We were tired and didn’t feel like hauling the camera around. Bad decision. But, I will share one of Mike’s that he took from our campsite on another evening. He did a great job and the elements cooperated beautifully.
Anyway, the tempting smells brought me back around to my food. I had boiled shrimp, salad, and baked potato while Mike and Katie had fried shrimp. They were so fresh I believe they were trained to leap from the water to the boiling pot.
When I asked for cocktail sauce the waitress grinned and reached for a pot of something at the end of our table that looked like melted sea salt butter. She took an extra plate, dumped the contents in it — turned out to be horse-radish — shook out some catsup and something else — might have been Worchestershire Sauce — and salt and pepper, then swirled it all around, all the while explaining how she was making cocktail sauce from these handy ingredients. We could even make our own to taste if we wanted. I passed. Her version was good enough for me. Delicious, in fact. I don’t make my own anything if I don’t have to.
As I made my way to the salad bar, a waitress dropped a tray of crab legs right in front of me. They were still steaming and little rivers of butter were making their way to join them. I LOVE crab legs. Before the waitresses could scoop it all up, I whimpered, “I’ll help.” That gave them a good laugh and they finished the job smiling.
We went home completely stuffed and happy, ready to get a good night’s rest. Mike and I had never been to Mobile, even though I grew up in Alabama. Katie had been to Gulf Shores a time or two. So when we heard about the two-day Strawberry Festival it seemed the perfect time for a weekend getaway. Stay tuned for the next post on the Strawberry Festival with pictures.
Good night. And God Bless.
The heaven’s declare the glory of God. — Psalm 19:1