Rolling Hills of Georgia

Eight o'clock in Statesboro, GA, sitting in a coffee shop recommended by some church folk at the United Methodist church here in town, where we'll be hanging our heads tonight. Jeff and I felt the need to get out a bit, and give Kevin and George a little space. The two of us can be a little intense to travel with, and we both knew the others could use some time away, for a little personal peace and a chance to make some calls, connect with their home base. So now we sit in what is actually a tea room, where we've efficiently cleared out the clientle of middle-aged housewives with our funk, baked-in tan lines and general rattiness. At least the girl at the counter doesn't seem to mind.

So, another good day. Another 73 miles puts us at 772 total, out of a distance of around 2,700 miles. Not a bad feeling, clocking in at about a quarter of the total. We had a second warning about not being armed, this one from a boy who seemed about 4 or 5, who hung out with us as we ate our lunch, amazed at what we're doing. As we stretched and readied the steeds, he asked, "ya'll got weapons in case anything comes up on ya...?". "What do you mean?". "Well, you know, anything. Some folks, some animal, like a fox or somethin'. What'll you do if a fox tries to creep up on ya?". I've been thinking about that all day.

No sign of any fox, not yet anyway. Did have my first dog scramble, though. Had to sprint as one of the many loose farm hounds made a run at me, specifically. Must've liked the look of my leg meat. I sprinted ahead of everyone else, thinking it'd be a good move, but it moved right at me and I had to kick into overdrive to tire it out. I'm sure it won't be the last.

We did get our new maps, which is a relief for everyone. We've been flying blind since our decision to head north, and we've done well, aside from a few roads with a little more congestion than we're comfortable with. So, maps in hand, we're heading North, first to SC, than NC, two beautiful states that I can't wait to get to. Georgia's been great, aside from a constant feeling that something's watching from the side of the road, and I absolutely love the way the women talk and act down here, but I'm a northern boy, and I'm looking forward to that division line.

I miss my loved ones a little more each day, but at the same time I'm becoming a little more comfortable being on the road, in almost constant motion. I can see that when this is over, it'll be hard to re-adjust to my former state. I took this on as a way to clear my head a little, and examine myself. I need to think about some things that I've avoided thinking about for a long time, and now that the routine of the road is becoming second nature, my mind is clearing out a bit, and I'm finding the time and space to clear out the mental debris that's kept the important stuff buried away. To be honest, I haven't had any spiritual or personal revelations just yet, but having the chance to clear out the garbage is help enough at this point. We get so stuck, sometimes, living in necessary routine, that we forget why it is, exactly, that we're in that routine.

I need to ask myself why I've put myself where I am. Why I've chosen to work alone for so long. Why I've put off the things that would make me happy and complete. Maybe they wouldn't? Questions we all ask ourselves, I suppose. Questions that seem so trite when we vocalize them, but are so important, so much a part of everyone's thoughts that to simply ask them seems to strip their power...

So, I'll ride on, and open myself up, and be grateful that I have the chance to do something like this at all.

 

 

Here's me too tired to swat the Georgia gnats away, a quick rest...

George and Jeff, ready to eat. My beer in front.