2007 December 27 « Cold Binary Heart

I realized today that doing anything I want, and being everything I want doesn’t have as much to do with moving this odd collection of mostly-carbon around this particular ball of mostly-rocks as it might seem to, but its still an important part of the journey.

Dinner was burritos made on the sidewalk outside Harvey’s (a grocery chain) by sinking cold refried beans into a tortilla with some salsa. Heated food is overrated! They were awesome :o) In Baxley, GA I see something with the word “vegan” on it–a box of morning star burger patties in the freezer at the same grocery store.

On trips like these it can be helpful to stay in touch with some “agents”. Vyki comes through with a phone number for Hostel in the Forest which I use to make a reservation for tomorrow, and Dad comes through with mileage and directions. Thank you, both!

The sun is setting and we haven’t determined where we can pitch our tent. Baxley is a small town, but large enough that people are keeping to themselves more than in the smaller gas-station-and-farms towns. Stephanie has a hunch–a fantasy–that if we pop in to the nearby Huddle House that a 50-years-old waitress will pour us coffee and ask us what we are doing and that this will lead to an offer for a place to stay. Haha, well we found some hospitality, in any case.

We’re sitting at a booth secretively mixing orange juice and The Glenlivet (12-year single-malt!) into our coffees, helmets positioned conspicuously, bikes sporting a sign asking for help, when Judy Williams, a woman who works at HH bites. And she’s really tickled by our story! So she offers to make a few calls, and before long a man named Kelly Bird strolls in the door with firm handshakes and Boy Scout popcorn under arm which he gifts to us. Handing over the popcorn, we chat about our journey and he offers that we can pitch our tent in front of the Boy Scout’s meeting building nearby. He even calls the police to let them know we would be camping, so we wouldn’t be bothered! And learning about our next destination (Brunswick) he insists that if we run into any problems that we should give him a call.

And so marveling at the generosity of these “strangers” we pitch our tent for a restful night. Perhaps we are not so strange to each other as it might seem. The tent in on an incline–my head is higher than my feet, and I sleep really well!