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| My own personal picture of Two Egg. |
Do you remember the days when you’d take a long trip in the car and you’d have a huge paperback atlas of maps, big as a newspaper, but thick as a novel? And you’d open it up and trace your progress along the route with your finger? You knew which cities were coming up next and which roads you’d pass. Those were the days, weren’t they? You always knew where you were.
It was in those days, and because of them, that I learned about Two Egg, Florida. Everybody wants to know now, how I ever heard of Two Egg. I saw it on the map when I didn’t have anything else to do on a long trip. And I knew that one day, I would go to Two Egg. Just to see what was there.
I can tell you what’s there: nothing.
My husband and I drove up to Alabama last weekend to visit a grave. It was one of the coolest things I’ve done lately. To get there, we drove up the middle of Florida to Tallahassee and then over into the panhandle and into another time zone. Then straight up to Dothan.
The middle of Florida is like a different state than what we have here on the Space Coast. It’s got rolling green hills, farmlands, and wildflowers. I half expected to see mountains in the distance. But once you get so far up there, it turns back into flat no-man’s land, just like home.
So, Dothan Alabama turned out to be a lot like my city–maybe bigger. We drove over to Webb to see the pitiful cemetery and the tombstone I was interested in. Then we spent the rest of the day visiting monuments nearby and the Tri-State BBQ Festival.
West of Dothan, in Enterprise, there’s a monument to the boll weevil. A monument. To a bug.
There it is, right in the middle of the street.
Apparently, the boll weevil destroyed all the cotton crops and if that hadn’t happened, they’d never have started growing peanuts and got all rich. So, all hail the boll weevil. I certainly hope they aren’t that large.
I expected the festival to be spectacular, but again, it was just like the ones we have here. Nothing much to see. It was interesting to see the competitors who travel the country in their trailors, all wedged in together, drinking beer, and watching their cookers.
According to the brochure they gave us at the gate, Myron Mixon of BBQ Pitmasters was supposed to be there this year. But we walked up and down the competitor trailors and we didn’t see him anywhere.
On the way back home, we took our detour into Two Egg. Our GPS didn’t know what we were talking about, so I had to use my phone to find a nearby town it would recognize. Then we followed the directions I found on the Internet into Two Egg. My husband stopped the car at the Two Egg sign and I was like, “I should take a picture?” I’m forever grateful to him for suggesting it, because that was pretty much it. That was Two Egg.
We drove down the road until we came to another sign, for the next little practically nonexistant town. We were in and out before we realized what happened. We turned around and drove back through, taking a side road (the only other paved one) north to see if the town was down that way, but after several miles we went back to the main road.
From there, we traveled a series of orange dirt roads looking for Two Egg and we never found it. When we got home there was orange dirt inside the car.
According to the website, Two Egg has an historic downtown. But they certainly don’t want anyone to find it. I had no signal on my phone in Two Egg, so I got no more help…not that the website would have helped me anyway. We followed the directions we had and they brought us to the sign.
So, that’s it.
That’s all there is to see here, folks. Move along.