Road trippin'

This week's travels took me to three states, where I saw a wild board, ran over a large snake, played golf and witnessed a temper tantrum like no other.

I'd never seen a wild pig before, but that changed Wednesday evening as I zipped through Georgia's Fort Benning. It was black, was the same size as a large calf and was grazing. But that was no cow. It had the head of a pig. I'd heard of wild boars in the area, but just hadn't seen one. I didn't stop to investigate. Didn't want to catch the pig flu.

TIFTON: For years I've driven past the Spring Hill Country Club on U.S. Highway 82 in Tifton, Ga., and kept saying I'd play 18 holes there. Thursday morning I did just that. It's a private club, but allows out-of-towners the opportunity to play at a very affordable rate. $32, or something like that. The course is fairly simple, offered an assortment of doglegs and wasn't over-the-top plush like some resorts, but for a little country club in this little town, I thought it was in excellent condition. I'd definitely play there again. The fairways were perfect and the greens were flawless. The man operating the carts seemed to have an attitude, but if that was my job I guess I'd have an attitude too.

MMM MMM GOOD: I couldn't leave Tifton without having lunch at Sonny's BBQ. When I lived in Daytona Beach, Fla., I frequented the establishment. Had a huge pulled chicken sandwich on Texas toast with fries and sizzlin' sweet sauce. I'm still burping the lunch, but since it was so good, I don't mind.

SUNNY DAY: Whipped past Valdosta, Ga., and crossed the Florida state line. Florida is called the Sunshine State. That makes sense. Rain had fallen on me all week, particularly in Alabama, and once I crossed the state line, I needed my sunglasses. Go figure.

TEE IT UP: I can't drive past the World Golf Village (www.wgv.com) in St. Augustine, Fla., without stopping and Thursday was no different. The place offers the World Golf Hall of Fame, the PGA Tour Stop, which is the most incredible golf shop I have visited, a plush resort with fancy stuff that I can't afford, two masterful golf courses (King & Bear and Slammer & Squire), various restaurants, an 18-hole putt putt course and a simulation of TPC Sawgrass' famous 17th island hole. For $3, you get three shots at the island from about 140 yards out. Clubs are provided.

That island hole has been a personal demon to me. I've never hit it. Not even come close, and that's extremely frustrating. Thursday was different. Two of my shots were majestic and landed firm in the middle of the green. The balls gently rolled off of the green and I'm going to claim that the green may be very hard and fast due to the searing sun and may not receive the same TLC that regular greens do. Anyway, I'm just happy I actually hit the green, so I'm going to count both. I don't know who the man in the above photo is. Congratulations, mister. You're famous now. He didn't make it on the green either :)

RIGHT SPORT, WRONG CLUBHOUSE: For some reason I was still decked out in my golf attire from Tifton -- 3 hours up the road -- golf shoes and all. That said, I decided to grab a changing bag and head into the Slammer & Squire clubhouse and locker room. Talk about plush ... It was strange playing golf in another state three hours away and using the Slammer & Squire's locker room. One guy asked me how I shot today and I said I had a 90. He was impressed since this course is very difficult. I didn't say where I really played.

BLOODY MURDER: Outside of the World Golf Hall of Fame stood this little boy, he must have been 3, screaming his head off. This was bloody murder like I'd never heard. He was there when I arrived. He was there after I hit the island hole. He was there after I changed clothes. He wanted to go home and he made sure that everyone in the state of Florida knew it. You could hear this kid from 200 yards away. The whole time his parents just stood there and did nothing. For all I know, he's still out there screaming. Maybe the National Guard can stop this insanity.

SPEED BUMP: Approaching Daytona Beach, a big snake slithered across my path. I had never seen a snake on an interstate until this moment. This was a busy highway. Stupid snake. Last time I was in Florida I had python for lunch. Not sure what kind of reptile it was. My guesses are moccasin, indigo, black snake, rat snake, or rattler.

Finally the turn lane for South Daytona has arrived. No more pigs, snakes or demonic children.