đ§ď¸ Detour Days & Atlantic Drift
A record from a Sunday that didnât go as planned â and ended better for it.
We set out looking for springs. We found the ocean instead.
The Springs We Didnât Swim
The day started with a plan â rare for us. Devilâs Den had been on our list for a while, one of those âwe should finally do thisâ kind of stops. But plans donât always hold up in real life.
Turns out, Devilâs Den is mostly a scuba facility now. If youâre not diving, you’re not really welcome. The natural wonder weâd seen online had become something else entirely. We stood in the parking lot, shrugged, and moved on.
Next: Rainbow Springs. It looked promising. Felt like we were getting back on track. But summer in Florida has its own way of gatekeeping â the park was already full when we arrived.
Two strikes. A full tank. No real destination anymore.
So We Pivoted
Daytona wasnât even on the list that morning. But when everything inland felt closed off or overbooked, heading toward the coast just made sense.
The drive was long, quiet at times, full of that âletâs just see what happensâ energy. No big build-up. Just miles rolling under the tires and the occasional fast food stop.
We ended up at Lighthouse Point Park. It wasnât crowded. The boardwalk was weathered and half-closed. But the waves? The waves were everything.
Saltwater Resets
The Atlantic was loud and busy â big swells that invited you in but didnât make it easy. We spent hours wading, floating, getting knocked around. One wave took Shana clean off her feet and sent her rolling across the sandy bottom. She came up laughing but wide-eyed â the ocean has a way of reminding you whoâs in charge.
We werenât filming for content, but the Insta360 caught a few clips anyway â a line of clouds building behind us, thunder teasing from the distance. That kind of raw weather has its own beauty. We didnât stay because of it, but we left just in time for the light to get good.
A Day We Didn’t Plan
We wrapped the night in dry clothes, Chinese takeout in hand, watching movies with sore arms and salty skin. It wasnât the day we imagined â it was better.
Thatâs what I love most about documenting like this. No script. Just small shifts in the plan that somehow leave a bigger imprint than the itinerary ever could.
Sometimes the best part of the journey is when it stops going according to plan.
