You are currently browsing the daily archive for December 22nd, 2007.
Waking up a bit damp (we’re camping in the clouds!), Stephanie and I cook a warm breakfast of oatmeal+flax seed on my trusty camping stove. And in a few more miles of braking we’re rolling into Balsam Grove, NC, a town apparently made of farms and a gas station.
I’m meeting the friendliest people at roadside gas stations in the smallest corners of the windiest roads of the most remote regions. Making a beeline for that gas station, we are greeted by the attendant (Jeannie?) with a warm smile and two sips into our respective coffees we’re discussing the wheres and whens of our journey. A few other locals peek into our conversation, offering advice here and there, and before long our water bottles are refilled and we’re confident in our direction.
Today is more transient that yesterday whose feature was The Blue Ridge Parkway and tomorrow’s Currahee, but we have about seventy miles ahead of us nonetheless. Yesterday’s mantra of “brakes, brakes, brakes” is repeated as we make our way through temperatures similar to yesterdays, but at least we seem to be descending below the clouds! And we will see The Cherokee Foothills Scenic Parkway today as we traverse South Carolina (SC-11, a part of the Trail of Tears…) The foothill roads leading us from mountainous North Carolina undulate through fantastic curves–we don’t need our brakes quite so much. Almost every vehicle that passes us is a pickup truck with a cooler in the back, occupied by one or more bright orange capped heads. I’m happy to be working towards a balance with nature rather than fighting it, but Stephanie and I wonder how our lives might be different if we were born here…
We have turned onto US-123 in Westminster, South Carolina–our last direction of the day and not a mile in we are impeded by and unfortunate combination of fading light and inclement weather on a road with virtually no shoulder. Still wanting to get to our destination of the fictional “Jarrett, GA”, we opt to hitchbike. No sooner than Stephanie sticks out her thumb does a Sheriff’s Deputy whirl his truck around and put on his best display of flashing blue lights.
Shit, shit, shit…!
Stephanie coughs up a quick story about my tire trouble (which is not so far from the truth). Deputy Johnny asks where we’re headed (a few miles beyond the GA state line…), and a few hums and haws later–offers us a ride to the border!!!
So we’re dropped just past the GA border and start making our way in. When the sat truth of Jarrett’s non-existence settles in (WTF Google?!?) we find a place to camp off the highway–for a horrible night just a few miles shy of Toccoa, GA.
About 63 pedaled and 9 hitchbiked miles today…
I am rolling up my sleeping bag in the morning; although this one is technologically far superior to the one I’m dreaming in, and has a sort of fastener that makes keeping it rolled much easier…perhaps I have just invented something.
I am home and have a cat, although this one is a kitten and it is firetruck red! True to its colour it is a fireball with its blue nose and yellow eyes, and a few stripes of red, each a few shades darker than the rest of its coat. It is bouncing all over the place and acting mischievous but not harming a thing. I am laughing from my belly; its a pure joy to watch.
