I never got to New Smyrna Beach. What was I thinking? Bike week. A beautiful Saturday. Rolling at 11. I drove for almost three hours and didn’t get to a beach until I was almost out of Daytona. And then I took my chances and, for $20 and no guarantees or refunds, I drove down onto the beach. Did I take a picture of the bus? No! Did I know that now I would have to wash the undercarriage of the bus? No! But I did enjoy two hours of my feet in the water as the tide came in, just watching the waves and emptying my brain.

I spent the night in a mall parking lot, falling asleep early to the sound of motorcycles. My plan was to get to a park early. And I did. Only I wasn’t permitted. On my way to another park, I found this pull-over with stairs to the beach. My plan is to camp here for 24 hours and tomorrow find the next pull over. Yes, there is a lot of traffic noise, especially the motorcycles to my left, but on my right I have the open ocean that when I am in it will probably drown out other noises. It’s my slice of heaven today.