Throwback Thursday: Sowin' Wild Oats in Carrabelle

In my early twenties, I would make the trek up to the panhandle about once a month…or once every couple of months. You see, I instantly fell in love with Carrabelle my very first visit.  

One of the shrimp boats around town

Carrabelle is much like Cedar Key. A little fishing town. Very low-key. Where you can either fish, go to church, or go to the bar. I’ve been known to do the latter two all in one weekend. You see, Carrabelle was where I sowed my wild oats.  

Krystle and I

Carrabelle was also within 30 minutes of Apalachicola, where we would spend many days walking in and out of little shops throughout the town. It’s also within 30 minutes of St. George Island, where we would drive the strip, and look at all of the beautiful houses; laze on the beach, and eat at the little sub and pizza place. If we felt inclined, we could make the jaunt to Port St. Joe, to shop; or even Mexico Beach to walk along the beach.

Many wild stories came out of Carrabelle, and the fact that I got to share so many of those memories with my best friend, I am forever thankful for. Some of my favorite memories were made up there. 

KW and the pirate at Harry's

We also made some life-altering decisions while up in Carrabelle. I don’t know what it was, maybe the clarity we found up there, maybe the salty air…but on several trips up there, before we’d get back, we’d decide to change jobs, change our major, decide to move, etc.  

Some man bustin' a move on the dance floor at Wicked Willie's.

And…I’m not sure if it’s the fact that we enable one another, but we also made some terrible decisions while up there.

The little town we found straight out of the Twilight Zone...We went several times, there were always cars, and yet we never saw anyone.  Ever.

Regardless, the memories will last a lifetime. Some of which include: Watching a pet turkey get run over by a golf cart; offering my womb up to carry a man’s baby; finding a little random town that was straight out of the twilight zone; sitting through a very anti-semantic sermon that made us uncomfortable; watching “Step-brothers” with Grandma Merle; watching fools out on the dance floor at Wicked Willie’s; going to Dog Island; and listening to Locomotive out at the Mud Bog. 

KW and I listening to Locomotive out at the Mud Bog

Now we are left with sometimes being asked about the little town and all that it has in store. To which I reply “It’s a quaint little drinking town with a fishing problem.”