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Sloppy college students sporting beer bongs, wet t-shirt contests and MTV dance fevers may not be your bag and you may be like me in desire to find a place to vacation that isn't overrun with twenty-somethings flexing their muscles and other body parts. Most especially during two week period that has transformed itself into a quarter of year, season that has hoteliers and bartenders rubbing their greedy hands together and college students stuffing thongs, condoms and Advil into their little carryons; time of year that many locals in Daytona, Cancun and South Padre Island batten down hatches and lay up comestibles in bomb shelters: dreaded Spring Break.

Yeah, I admit that "in days" I overindulged in keg induced debauchery and anything that was likely to compel women to strip off their shirts was likely to set my mouth to watering. Now, though, I am a kinder, gentler and less misogynistic fellow, much more likely to enjoy silence of a sunset or an excellent meal that is not accompanied by hoots and hollers of hormonally challenged youth our nation's upper education system is likely to spew forth from end of February into middle of April.

"Where oh where, wise travel sage, may I enjoy sun and surf and not be overrun by teeming hordes of horny youth on break from their laborious studies of underwater basket weaving and literature of 17th century Botswana?" Well, Grasshopper, answer may surprise you, for I have found a veritable treasure trove of fun stuff to do in one of nation's original Spring Break destinations. A place replete with museums, sporting attractions, nightlife and most especially fine dining, and it is all aligned alongside over 23 miles of beautiful beach and crystal clear water. Greater Fort Lauderdale is name and grown up, non-"Yeee Haaaw!! Let's get wasted!!" fun is game.

"How can this be, oh venerable and well informed travel scribbler?" Who can say but truth is in tale of tape. Since 1985 total number of travelers visiting Ft. Lauderdale area has gone up substantially and number of spring breakers has declined;1985 saw 3.3 million visitors to area with 370,000 of them designated as spring breakers, while in 2002 some 8.1 million folks visited and from that number only 20,000 were college kids on hiatus from their diligent studies. As a matter of fact it looks like for last three years that number of 20,000 has stabilized, no doubt more adult and less impulse driven of those college kids looking for a quiet place of their own to actually relax as opposed to murdering off a few million of their own brain cells. There is hope for us yet.

I was lucky enough to be able to, on dole, spend a few days in area while my lovely and well employed significant other attended a conference. For four days, while Cindy labored to learn about city administration, I meandered some of areas and attractions around town and then we were able to dine and explore together at night. On whole I had an excellent good time and left many of Ft. Lauderdale's draws unexplored, reason enough to return and get some of those other things done at a later date.

Initially we had been booked into a hotel that was not very well represented to us by a broker who specializes in web based booking of hotel rooms that are pet friendly. Not wishing to bad mouth anyone I will forego naming this particular service or hotel that they had booked us into; I will just say that if you avail yourself of such a service I highly recommend that you call hotel in question before booking your stay and make sure that things are as they are represented. We were not on beach and hotel in question had no idea that we would be bringing ever-present Sunny dog with us. Although they did make an attempt to get us into a room, it was a less than thrilling accommodation, and what was supposed to be a beachfront room ended up having an excellent view of one of areas many dwelling-lined canals.

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Ageless Smoky Mountain Tradition!

Folklore and whispering stories of adventure and mystery are as deep as hills around small Smoky Mountain towns. There have been legends born and heroes die, all carried by word of mouth and each telling, grander and larger than life tales, such as story of Fines Creek.

A man by name of Fines, not told to me as his first or last name, simply by Fines, traveled Smokies of North Carolina and Tennessee several times during the1800s. During one of his journeys, Fines was robbed of his horses by a local band of indians.

Fines, along with his group of men, forcefully retrieved their horses and set up camp along a creek deep in mountains. The threat of raids was ever present and resulted in ambushes in which Fines was mortally wounded. His men were not able to carry Fines back home and decided to bury him under frozen creek until they could return to retrieve him.

Upon their return, they discovered Fines' body missing and so named creek, Fines Creek.

Now creek lazily rakes along side I-40, some of best road travel in South. Large hardwoods infest roadside and you feel as if next 30 miles was taken up like a rug and shaken.