How We Roll....

 

Though we're definitely out of the pure swamplands of Okefenokee and the lower SC areas, we haven't escaped the mud, or the rain. The last two days have covered me in grit, road debris, grease, oil, spit and the occasional mouthful of mud, depending on the quality of fender the rider in front of me has. Yesterday was full of spotty rain, just enough to coat us and our bikes with grime, which we all took the time to clean off as well as we could, having access to a gymnasym-like rec room on the side of a church. With showers! All the care and lovin' we gave our steeds was washed away quickly this morning, as heavy drizzle swept in an hour into the ride and escaladed into a full on downpour for the next fifty miles, most spent riding the white line as trucks hauling freshly cut pine trees crashed past, spraying mist and mud everywhere. I could've reached out and grabbed those logs. Somehow, we also had our first cool day, down to the mid sixities, which normally would be awesome, but none of us have our cooler gear yet, it's arriving in Suffox on Friday, and when you've been sweating through the humid nineties for two weeks, sixty-five can be absolutely bone chilling. I absolutely has a blast today, the challenge of riding on wet roads in close quarters was terrifying at times, but somehow so much fun at the same time. I got great footage of the ride as well (which my mother will never see), especially when we accidental found ourselves on an interstate with a 12 inch shoulder in rush hour, rain-drenched traffic. Holy crap, that was tricky. I haven't had to ride like that since the courier days, but somehow the old instincts kicked in just fine. I think that ride may have changed George's life a little bit. Hopefully for the better. Jeff just blasted through, a cannonball with one direction, hoping no one would splatter him.

So, in review, probably our most mentally exhausting day of riding, but maybe the most fun at the same time. Nothing like when we trudged through ninety eight degrees and seventy percent humidity, slowly dying as we counted the miles off in Florida.

And as a reward, we found an awesome diner in Conrad, SC, just outside of Myrtle Beach. The other two-Kevin moved on early this morning, suddenly turning away as his road split off, a quick goodbye-began their scan for a mcdonalds, which we've had enough of already to last forever, but a quick question to a passing postal worker led us around the corner to Skips, where we were welcomed with kind and open arms. A miracle, considering the state we were in when we entered. We were fed, treated to homemade cake and allowed to charge up as the cook, a British transplant and a traveller himself, sat with us and talked. If anyone happens to pass through this little town a few miles from the ocean, stop in and say hello to the family running this place. They were our benefactors today.

As we ate, Jeff made a random call to a church here in Mrytle Beach where we were referred to the Sea Palms hotel, which we were told would be a friendly place.

I feel like I should explain how we find our lodging here, I'm not sure if I ever really explained that detail.

When the tour was originally set up, by Jeff, it was to be a journey of Spiritual discussion, in a purely Christian context, for college students out of Marquette U back home in Milwaukee. The original plan was to travel the Southern Tier from Key West to San Diego, discussing religious matters with a younger generation and hopefully coming up with some kind of plan, idea or thought process that could be applied, etc. to life. The students bailed one by one, as George discovered the ride and joined in, putting the bug in my ear in the process. We both signed up, for our own reasons, as Kevin and Dirk contacted Jeff from their own cities. As the time to ride came, the only riders who remained committed were the old guys, myself being the youngest of the five.

This changed everything.

Jeff had put in a ton of work coordinating stops along the way, places we could crash and get clean, rest for the next day. This couldn't have been easy, especially in the more desolate areas, and unfortunately it was all tossed to the side when the heat took George out of commision in the first few days. We made the decision to move Northward instead, where the weather would be easier to handle and civilization was close at hand. For the most part. So, we were left with a friendlier route, still from one end of the states to the other, but no plans for lodging. So, every night from that point has been completely up in the air, maybe one of the reasons Kevin left us. Jeff and George go through churches in the towns we figure are close to where we want to be any given night, and randomly call, asking if shelter would be possible. All we ask for is a floor, and so far we've been given so much more than that.

Tonight, after a harrowing, gruelling day, we are sleeping in a hotel room donated to us by a woman who owns several places here in town (Mrytle Beach, not North Mrytle Beach) who fed us a chicken dinner and claims she can help for a few more days still as we travel. All from randomly calling a church, whose receptionist knew that Karen would br willing to help out, and did. I will never forget the kindness and trust of everyone who's allowed us into their churches, businesses and homes. It's mind blowing.

Today, we lost Kevin, got our first chill, ate some mud, had a great dinner and walked through one of the most bizarre vacation spots I've ever seen. We broke one thousand miles, and will hit our halfway point at the end of the week. Tomorrow we ride to North Carolina.