Day 13: October 22, Buck Hill to Charleston

I woke up early to watch the sunrise over the Inter-coastal Waterway. I made the guys eggs and sausage on their skillet, and someone made some toast and brought out some apple butter. I got a little tired of hearing them telling me over and over again how dangerous what I was doing was. All they could do was tell me how last year someone disappeared from Myrtle Beach, or how this person's last cell phone signal came from just up the road there, and this and that. One of them told me to go ahead and throw my stuff in the back of his truck and he would drive me back home. The camp host came by and tried to teach me a few ways to kill a man with my bare hands. It was honestly really ridiculous how much fear these guys had! If people took them seriously, no one would leave their houses at all, and those houses would have 5 foot thick lead and steel reinforced concrete walls! If I got anything out of it at all, I'd say it was that living in the cities was far more dangerous than what I was doing.

We talked a little bit about routes, as once again I wanted to get a feel for the road and bridge conditions up ahead. They wanted me to take 17 all the way in, because "the backroads are creepy! You don't see anyone or anything for miles!" When I told them "Perfect! That's my favorite kind of riding," they only gawked.

I did end up taking the backroads and they were absolutely fantastic. I felt like I was riding straight through a painting for over an hour. I made sure to follow the route this time: no more dirt roads for me. I had considered taking 17 for about a minute, and only because of mileage concerns: this was going to be my longest day yet, close to 50 miles, but I eventually reasoned that what was the point of getting there with less mileage if the stress from riding on 17 was so great that it counteracted the benefits of taking the "shortcut."

Eventually, I had to get on 41 to go down into Mt. Pleasant. That road wasn't all that fun. It was back to a too-busy 2 laned highway with absolutely no shoulder to speak of. I lost my hat on the bridge when a big semi went past me going the other way. I stopped right after I got off the bridge to see if I could see it even though I knew it was gone. I put my kickstand down into a fire ant mound and an angry storm of ants immediately bubbled up from the hole I made in their pile of dirt. I quickly picked up my bike and moved to a paved parking lot. There was a gas station across the street where I decided to take a small break and watch the traffic. As I was standing outside eating a Cadbury egg (it was green inside for Halloween), a guy in a truck asked if I needed help and we got into a little conversation about my trip. I could tell he felt sorry for me but respected that I felt this was something I needed to do. He offered to buy me another hat, which I declined. That was the second hat I'd lost in less than 2 weeks.

I decided to skip riding through Isle of Palms for mileage reasons, even though I really wanted to. The huge bridge into Charleston was awesome. It was very steep, but had a whole protected lane set aside for walkers and bikers and the views were amazing. Another biker came up beside me and started asking questions about how much weight I was hauling and where I was coming from. I was really laboring even though I was in my granny gear, and had to stop for a break. He hesitated for a second-I know he wanted to keep talking and I wouldn't have minded-but I guess he had somewhere he had to be.

I eventually made it to the top and coasted down the other side. All bridges should be like this: with a nice protected area for people and bikers. I went ahead and decided to ride around the bottom of the peninsula despite my mileage concerns, where I found battery park and had a small break. It was such a gorgeous day, and it was still relatively early: about 4 pm. I had to do a little backtracking and re-routing when I got to the major expressway bridge to cross over another river on the other side of Charleston, as my hosts lived on James Island. Eventually I found the bridge with a sidewalk I was able to ride on, even though there were a few death traps on the way: deep gaps 5 or 6 feet long right where one could easily catch their tire and be thrown off balance if they weren't paying extreme attention. In fact, I had quite a time navigating around them even though I saw them right away.

After that bridge, there was yet another bridge to cross. This one was downright scary. I had to dismount and walk my bike across, and my handlebars were exactly as wide as the raised sidewalk. My bags didn't help. I raised the pedal on my side up to 90 degrees so I wouldn't be tripping over it, and I slowly inched my way across with traffic squeezing past only inches away. There just was not enough room on this bridge, plain and simple. Although I did my best to "keep my arms and legs inside the car at all times," it just wasn't possible, and I know I was hanging over the edge by a few inches in several places: the handlebars, my bags, my hips, and my elbows. My brakes and bags scraped on the guardrails a few times. It easily tied for the worst bridge yet with the one going into Georgetown: the one where the shoulder and raised sidewalk together gave me just enough space to get across.

I took the sidewalk the rest of the way without much trouble, and thought about the fact that I was beginning to really like sidewalks to ride on because they give me some respite from the horrible roads and traffic situations they create, and how once I hit Georgia this sidewalk riding would need to stop as it is illegal there. I found my couch surfing hosts easily enough, and enjoyed a nice hot shower before they took me out to the Poor House for a drink and some music before we headed across the street to Zia Taqueria for some dinner. I slept peacefully in their spare room on a blow up mattress without having to worry about the cold or wild animals.

Day 12: October 21, Georgetown to Buck Hall Recreation Area

I woke up early, before anyone else, and spent the next hour or so quietly re-packing my bags. I had bought so much food at Walmart that it was going to be a tight fit.

Joe's mom made breakfast with scrambled eggs, bacon, and strawberry biscuits, which I had never had before but decided I really liked. ("They are just a pouch mix!" she said.) As it was a Sunday, they had Church stuff to do, but invited me to stay for lunch, as they were having a special chicken and rice with sausage dish (chicken perlo) that I had also never had before, but it looked (and was) really good.

I cleaned my chain, which I had been neglecting, and pumped up my tires. I was a little upset to find some rust spots on all of my links, and wondered if it was just something that was to be expected from living outside in a high humidity location which causes a layer of condensation to form on everything almost as soon as the sun sets, or if it was something that could have been prevented if I was using a different lube or if I cleaned my chain more often. I told myself that chains are relatively inexpensive, so I shouldn't beat myself up too bad over it. As it was, the spots were in a relatively cosmetic location (on the straight bits) and not in the parts that actually moved.

Lunch was at Joe's grandmother's house, who lived just around the corner. I rode on over so that I could leave from there. It was a really nice Southern meal, with biscuits made from scratch by his grandma and homemade apple butter to go with them, the chicken perlo, homemade mac ‘n cheese, beans, deviled eggs, and sweet tea.

I really didn't want to leave, but it was getting late (almost 2 pm already), so I finally said my goodbyes and got on the road. After not riding for a few days, my legs seemed particularly stiff. The backroads I took to get around the first section of 17 (before the next bridge) were absolutely fantastic. A guy in a truck had passed me a few times before stopping to ask me if I was lost or needed help. He offered to give me a ride to Charleston, as I was apparently doing a poor job of explaining that I was really looking forward to riding there through the Francis Marion National Forest. Once the mosquitoes found me and started attacking in earnest, he finally let me go.

Once back on 17, I was a bit irked by the fact that, despite there being almost no traffic, the few cars that did pass me seemed to pass me unnecessarily close (one SUV missing me by about a foot). I turned off at the very next road to follow signs for "BJ's," because they stated they welcomed bikers and hinted at a campsite nearby. I changed my mind a few miles up the road when I still hadn't reached it and turned onto a dirt road instead. According to my GPS, it went all the way through, and it seemed packed enough for me to be able to ride on, and I congratulated myself for finding a nice alternate route to get away from the rude Sunday drivers on 17. "I'll take this dirt road over 17 any day!" I told myself.

A mile or two in, the road turned to sand, and I fishtailed a few times before completely losing my balance. I tried to get back on to ride, but I just couldn't get going in the sand, and was forced to walk. After a while, the road hardened back up and I got back on. This pattern happened a lot over the next few miles. What should have taken me only an hour was now going to have me barely getting out by sunset. Not only that, but every time I was forced to walking, the mosquitoes literally formed a swarm and attacked anything that smelled remotely tasty: my bags were also covered in the little blood suckers. My bug spray did absolutely nothing, and I was cursing the position I was quickly finding myself in, as I got more and more desperate to get away from the things. I found a grassy clearing to one side that was clearly used as a road at one point and debated parking it there and setting up my hammock with my mosquito net to try to get out of their reach. Unfortunately, in my uncoordinated hurried desperation, my bike hit a little sand curb and tipped over, my leg scraping on the chain as I tried in vain to prevent it from going down.

Reaching a new low point, I abandoned my bike on the side of the road and walked in a wide circle for about 5 minutes screaming at no one in particular while slapping my whole body with my hat trying to keep the mosquitoes from landing on me, trying not to cry and thinking about what to do. I had about an hour and a half before sunset, I was still a good 5 miles from the next intersection on this horrid sand road, I was bleeding from where the chain cut me, and I was getting absolutely eaten alive and nothing I was doing was stopping them in the least. Finally I scraped up my last bit of resolve to get the hell out off of this stupid road, because if I didn't do it tonight I would have to do it first thing tomorrow. I begged and prayed for any stretch of hard packed dirt so I could get on and ride for a minute and let the wind sweep them off of me: the breeze made by riding was my only relief. A few trucks had passed me, and I secretly hoped they would stop and offer a lift. I was in fact desperate. Finally, one was going my way, so I moved over, but couldn't stop myself from doing the slapping dance as he was taking forever to pass me. He stopped and asked if I was OK. Well, NO! I did my best to sound civilized about my situation and he quickly hopped out and we threw my stuff in the back of his truck. We were literally running around to get everything in as fast as possible, the mosquitoes were so bad.

He told me that he had come out to go hunting, but he had given up as well. He had even tried to wear a mosquito net hat/face shield thing, because you couldn't even breathe without sucking them in. I told him why I was on this road in the first place, and he apologized for the rude drivers: "We normally pride ourselves on being bike friendly!" he said. I've been hearing this sentiment a lot from South Carolinians... I curiously asked him if he had noticed all of the swerving skid marks I had left in the sand patches: he had, but he thought it was something that was dragging off of the back of someone’s truck, but it was strange to him as they would come out of nowhere. I got a chuckle out of that.

He drove me to a campsite a good 10 miles down the road, and again I felt like I was cheating, but I reminded myself of the situation I was in not long before and got over it. I absolutely needed a hot shower now.

I got the last campsite in the back (I've come to find that at *least* 90% of all campsites are always taken by the "full timers" living there...) and they let me set up in the trees, even though the rules said I was supposed to be on the tent pad. I thought that was nice. There was a hook on a tall pole (at least 7 feet high) that I suppose was for a lantern: I thought it was a good substitute for bear bagging to keep those stupid raccoons out of my food, and wished all campsites came with such a pole. Not 2 minutes after I finished setting up and was about to head off for my shower, the camp host came by with all sorts of pity in his eyes that I haven’t seen since dealing with my landlord in Montana as I went through my divorce. (I didn't need pity then, and I certainly don't need it now.) He came to tell me of an empty tent that belonged to some guys at another site that they weren't using, and he would feel a lot better if I slept in there tonight.  I told him thanks, but I am plenty comfortable in my hammock, but if they are friendly people, I might go visit with them for a while after my shower.

The three guys at the campfire were pretty good company: they were all old buddies who get to come out for two weeks of the year and go camping and shrimping with each other and just have a dandy time. At least two of them were old war vets who still thought of themselves as hippies (although I wouldn't have called them that). They had every gadget that a modern kitchen would have under their canopy plus some: a mini fridge, chest freezer, ice maker, microwave, coffee maker, toaster... You name it: they had it! They also had a space heater inside of their tent. Yep, they were really roughing it. Haha!

They had a decent fire going, but I noticed the logs needed to be rotated but no one seemed to notice, so I took the poking rod they had and did it myself. They were all impressed and I explained that at home I did this a lot. I was now the designated fire person and that was my stick, the fire was my job. They joked that if I cooked them a good breakfast in the morning I could stay as long as I wanted.

Eventually I decided it was rather cold out and as they had an extra cot in their tent that night (one had gone to a wedding or something for a day or two), I would bunk down with them. A couple of dudes and a space heater in a tent should be better than me swinging in a hammock right by the water, right? My feet were pretty cold all night regardless. (I think it was because they were actually up against the side of the tent, which I didn't realize at the time.)

Days 10-11: October 19-20, Georgetown and the Boat Festival

I woke up the next morning to heavy rain. That 30% chance last night had turned into a sure thing, making me extra grateful that my bike was on a covered porch and I was in a fluffy, comfy, warm, and dry bed. The family I stayed with had to leave for work in an hour, so I went ahead and got up, hoping that the rain would stop. I figured I would head down to the cute downtown strip and find a place for breakfast, possibly with an out of the way nook I could stash my bike while the last drips finished up and the sun came out.

Joe had hinted that he wouldn't mind coming to breakfast with me that morning, so I sent him a text to see what he was up to. Before they left, Gary and Laura told me I was welcome to spend another night, as there was a boat festival the next day that was well worth going to. Joe picked me up a little while later and after driving down the main stretch, he took me to George's--a local buffet style diner--for breakfast. They made the eggs to order, and the french toast and pancakes on request, and it was very reasonably priced. Then it was on with some necessary chores: finding a place to ask about my broken phone and battery charger, going back to the library for a bit, doing laundry at his house (and catching up on some TV!) and finally diner at Tony's, where we had some of the best steak and cheese sandwiches (he couldn't stop raving about their special sauce).

After dinner, we walked around downtown on the boardwalk, found a jogglin board (it’s like a long bench-meets-rocking-chair that you sit on and "joggle," or bounce around. I thought it seemed kind of dangerous, but was assured it was quite stable.) We also got some ice cream because we passed by a shop that had just made some fresh waffle cones and I couldn't resist the smell. And finally, I got hit on by a pirate! That's how the story goes anyway. He's an ex-marine who travels around with his merry pirate friends and does re-enactment type things with working cannons and old timey guns. He told me if I joined him on his boat, he could take me past the Florida Keys down to the Bahamas or somewhere. It was a good time.

The next morning, it was super cold outside. Gary was fully focused on his calculations for the boat building competition, which was going to be taking part in. My mom was going to come in around noon, as it was a weekend and I wasn't too far away to visit yet. I caught a ride downtown and was immediately taken with how busy it all was! There was a whole side-street block in the middle of it all with huge tents for the boat builders. On the main street there were beautiful boats lining the sidewalk for people to admire, and all sorts of arts and craft stalls for me to peruse: a woodcarver chiseling out a 4 foot tall mermaid's hair, stained glass sailboats, and paintings of all kinds. There was also a tent where kids could make their own wooden boats and a kiddie pool to race them in. The pirates were walking up and down the stretch carting a mermaid they had "captured" and boasting about how fast she was. It was a great time.

My mom had to really search to find a parking spot, and once she did I showed her around, where we found Gary and Laura (who she thanked for taking care of me) and Joe's parents (his mom had to ask mine mother to mother how she could let me do what I'm doing), and then we found a spot to eat some lunch on a balcony overlooking the river. We stopped in to the boatmakers tents a few times to check their progress, but they were all too focused to notice us. After a while, we left the hustle and bustle so I could show my mom the awesome park I had been thinking of staying at. It was high tide unfortunately, so no crabs. My mom could only stay for a few hours, so she couldn't stay for the boat race at the end. I didn't really want her to leave, as I wasn't sure when I would be able to see her again: I would probably be too far away next weekend for her to visit very easily.

Joe and I wandered around for a bit waiting for the end of the building portion and the beginning of the racing portion! Everyone had crowded onto the boardwalk, trying to get a spot where they could watch and see if anyone sank! We rushed up to the balcony where my mom and I had eaten early to watch from there. It was a little difficult, but we could see a bit. There was one guy who was paddling standing up like a paddle surfer on his surf board, and he was quite a sight. We all wondered if he was doing it like that because his boat was taking on water. Unfortunately, we couldn't figure out which one was Gary's boat.

After the race, the scores were announced: Gary's team had come in 3rd overall! No boats sank this year, but one took on so much water when they put it in the river that they pulled it right back out again.

We went up to an artist friends' loft (he's kind of a big deal) who plays guitar off his balcony at night to serenade all of those eating at the little cafes under him. I really enjoyed looking at his paintings lining the walls of the entryway, stairs, and the walls of his apartment. We all chatted for a bit, and he mentioned that two of the places keep calling the cops on him with noise complaints when the rest of his band joins in sometimes. I think its ridiculous, as I know a lot of places would pay big bucks to hire someone to do what he's doing simply because he enjoys it. He says he plans to start a petition about it: "Let them play!"

Joe's dad came in his truck to get my bike and bags to take them to his house. Gary and Laura were fantastic people to put me up for a few days, and I was so very happy that they let me stay with them so I could see the boat show, but I didn't want to over stay my welcome. Saying goodbye was the hardest one yet, as they had come to feel a bit like extended family over my short stay.

Watching the beautiful sunset on the bridge as we drove over it felt a little like cheating, but I got over it. Any mileage lost could easily be made up for with all the city riding I had been doing in other places, if I wanted to get picky.

We went out for dinner at a Chinese buffet, but I remembered that I needed to stock up on food since I expected to be riding in the woods for two days or so and the raccoon had gotten about half of my food. We found a 10 cents bin after I had already checked out and had a few minutes being silly with the random toys found in it, and then we saw a young girl who couldn't have been more than 13 in knee high pointy high heeled boots and a tight mini skirt. It wouldn't be Walmart without at least one person to gawk at... She looked like she had gotten into her older sister's closet and intended to go clubbing.

Dinner was awesome, and I particularly enjoyed my fortune: Your observations are useful to others. Then it was off to bed, with anticipatory thoughts of my journey into the unknown continuing in the morning.

Day 9: October 18, Huntington Beach to Georgetown

After the adventures of the night before, I slept very well, though not long enough. The bag the raccoon had gotten a hold of was sticky and gross, so I rinsed it out as best as I could and put it on my handlebars to dry. The friends I made last night invited me over for coffee and oatmeal, and we chatted some more with a wary eye on some storm clouds that seemed to be rolling in despite the clear forecast.

I really enjoyed the ride through the trees on the East Coast Greenway trail. I tried to really soak it in and not think too much about the 10 mile stretch on highway 17 that would come later. I had left in the morning, which was about all I could do to avoid as much traffic as possible.

I stopped back in to the bike shop for a few minutes, and we exchanged a few stories about the odd places you sometimes find yourself sleeping at night on these kinds of trips, and they warned me about the rumble strips up ahead. Bikers not careful enough have crashed because of them, they told me. I believed it.

The trail continued on after I was supposed to turn, and I was very tempted to just ride along and see where it went, since it was such a nice ride. There were plenty of “share the road” signs and the traffic was very polite, but the road seemed to go on forever, especially because the wind seemed to be in my face more than usual. I was also starting to anticipate the highway.

There was a hotel and restaurant at the intersection where I would get back on 17, so I pulled in for lunch and to refill my water bottles. Unfortunately, the restaurant only does catering now (said the people at the front desk, who were not at all interested in me.) I used the bathroom and then found a nice bench in the back by the nasty brown pool to have a snack. After a while, I decided to just get it over with. After 10 miles on 17, I have come up with some general observations and guidelines for anyone dealing with rumble strips, questionable shoulders, and highway speed traffic.

1. On a road with rumble strips, it is very important to pick a side. There will be no crossing over (or riding the line as I tend to do), so pick wisely.

2. If you are in the shoulder, no one will move over even in inch. They will treat that shoulder like a bike lane and whiz right by you. And the winds they create as they do are nothing to just dismiss, not to mention the scare-the-shit-out-of-you factor if you both happen to be too close to the line for any reason.

3. If you are riding in the lane (as long as traffic is not too heavy), people will tend to pass you correctly by moving over (or mostly over) into the other lane. (If traffic is heavy and there is no where for them to move over to, they will try to pass you in the same lane, granted they will probably slow down some to do so, alerting those behind them that something is up ahead--YOU! Please use your best judgment.)

Therefore, if the shoulder is less than 1.5 feet wide (not including the rumble strip), is really crappy (with lots of crap or crumbling pavement or encroaching grass), then I have found it’s probably best to ride in the lane. If the shoulders are at least 2 feet wide and are decently clear, I go ahead and ride there. Part of me does like the rumble strips in this situation because I feel like it's just a tiny bit of extra insurance against distracted drivers. Just remember, if you choose to ride in the lane, own it. Ride right in the right tire line. I accidentally found myself riding too close to the rumble strip a few times (within an inch...) and saw bad things happening as cars whizzed by me too close because I had given up my space in the lane. Also, I try to recognize potential situations where people in cars that are going at certain speeds might not have the time to stop and take measures to help avoid those situations. Right hand curves in the road and the downhill side of bridges can create a sort of blind spot where they are going too fast to react in a timely fashion to any sort of obstacle they might not be expecting.

The bridges into Georgetown were a real challenge. One of them was very steep and the "shoulder" and raised "sidewalk" combines were barely big enough to walk a bike across safely--with the bike in the shoulder and me walking on a raised platform a good 8-12 inches above that, the cars passing by literally inches away as the lanes were very narrow as well. I had to go back to the same numb place as when I crossed the Wilmington bridge: just focus on taking one step at a time, don't pay any attention to the cars. Don't notice, don't react. Once I got halfway down the other side, riding my brakes the whole way to prevent my heavy bike from just taking off without me, I had had enough. So, I waited for a break in traffic and hopped on as fast as I could, and zoomed on down to the bottom.

The first thing I did once I got into town was stop at a pizza hut. I had made it and I was alive! Unfortunately, I had to sit for a good half hour before the stress came down enough to eat. Then I found the library, where I met my newest best friend, Joe. All I wanted to do was update my blog and take a nice long break from riding for a few hours, as I hadn't decided if I would continue on and try to make it to the national forest that was coming up before dark. Unfortunately, the people working the desk kept sending me back to the computers, where the computer helper person had gone off to lunch. There was Joe, sitting at a table in the middle of the floor, working on a paper. I asked him if the password for the internet as a general thing like "GeorgetownLibrary" or something, and, as they say, the rest is history. Just kidding!

We got to talking, and I started sending out feelers about the local park, which had a few baseball diamonds with dugouts. Do they get locked at night, is it a nice area, that sort of thing. I had sent out 2 couch surfing requests, but had yet to hear anything back. Eventually, he figured out what I was getting at and suggested he might be able to get me into a church for the night, or maybe he could find a friend I could stay with. I thanked him, and after finally getting on the computer, went to check out the park for myself, as there was still a couple of hours of daylight left.

Georgetown is just dripping with Southern charm. The streets are lined with huge live oaks, creating the most wonderful shaded streets with a tunnel-of-trees effect, and the houses were big and elegant. The park was really like a set of three parks, one with a playground, then a set of baseball fields, and finally, in the way back, Morgan Park. It had a nice walkway over the marsh, where I got to scare the crabs for fun in the low tide mud. There was a sort of clearing in the back with a covered picnic area and a beach (no swimming allowed though), and plenty of trees for me to hang from. The only real problem was how busy it all was! Several of the baseball diamonds were being used for football practice, and there were some cheerleaders practicing as well. There were just loads of people out enjoying the nice day at the park.

After about an hour, I started to feel particularly sticky, and decided that I should clear out and come back much later, hopefully after everyone had gone home, anyway. So I went to look for a gym where I could take a shower. This led me on a sort of wild goose chase through the city, between finding a Curved that closed 20 minutes before they were supposed to, and old converted high school gyms that didn't even have showers. I also found the ghetto in my quest for a bath... The sunset was absolutely spectacular, and I kind of wished I was back in the park for it.

As the couch surfers had let me down again, and it was getting dark fast now, I texted Joe to see if he had found something, or if that was going to be a dead end as well. Honestly, I didn’t think the park was that bad at all. I think I would have rather enjoyed sleeping in the back of Morgan Park, with the waterfront as my view from my hammock. He invited me to his choir practice, where a family agreed to take me in for the night. I was so happy to have a nice shower in my near future, and I knew my mom should be happy as well with me having a real roof over my head, and with church people to boot.

Gary and Laura and their kids are absolutely the nicest people! We all sat and chatted for a while, before I finally went to take my shower. Gary made me an omelet with toast and apple butter for dinner, and the bed was super fluffy. The bike was put on the screened-in porch, which turned out to be even better when I woke up to it raining hard at about 6:30 the next morning.

Day 8: October 17, Huntington Beach

I had set my alarm for 4:30 the night before, so that I could get rolling at 5, but after putting Huntington Beach into my GPS and realizing it was less that a mile away, I simply brushed my teeth and went back to sleep for a while longer till 5:30. I got rolling at 5:45, and got to the park a little over 5 minutes later. The ride on the highway was quiet and traffic moved over nicely for me, as I thought they would. I bet most of them were wondering, "What the heck is that?" There was already a car waiting in line at the park, and I thought maybe sunrise on the beach watching must be a popular activity, but it turned out to just be an employee. I got in free with the SC state park pass my family bought last year, and blindly guessed my way to the beach in the dark. Riding over the Causeway was really nice: it was a huge expanse of marshland that was lit only by the stars and the lights from Murrells Inlet a few miles down the road. I actually stopped for a minute at one of the covered observation areas and just enjoyed the sounds and smells of the ocean in the peaceful dark of the early morning.

About an hour later, after watching a really beautiful, if really cold sunrise on the beach, I headed back to sneak into the campground to take a much needed hot shower, and saw a raccoon walking up the stairs into the bathroom building by the beach like he owned the place! I followed him up and found a nice pile of fresh poo right there in the middle of the stairs like he was trying to tell me something. After getting to the top and looking around, wondering where he went, I saw him on the roof! I only got to wonder how he got up there for a second before he gave me look and scurried into a little hole in the wall. This was going to be a problem: this place has smart-ass raccoons that are used to people.

Originally, I was just going to pop into Huntington Beach Park to take a shower and then head off to Georgetown, but the thought of getting back on the highway and leaving this peaceful sanctuary was causing me a great amount of stress. I had another few hours of doubt in my ability and desire to finish this trip, but after calling my mom and looking at the scheduled park activities for the day, I started to feel better. I would hang out here for a day or so: if I really was done, this would be a good place to wait for the weekend when they could come get me, if not, then this was a good place for the rest day that I had been trying to get for several days now.

So, I went on the bird watching tour, and took my time in the nature center, and got a lot of attention from the other visitors about my trip. It was nice to finally really talk to someone, as I hadn't had a real conversation with anyone in a few days. Around 2, I got a campsite. The woman checking me in was not very helpful in comparison to the wonderful help I got at Myrtle Beach. She looked at me like I had two heads when I asked her about trees at the campsites for my hammock, and sent me out to look at the available sites myself, without a map (I had to stop and ask other campers to look at their maps when I couldn't find my sites the first time around.) I would have thought that she had never been out to look at the campsites before (must not be part of her job description.)

After all of that was straightened out, I took my dirty clothes to the bathrooms to get them washed up. I was pretty proud of myself for getting this out of the way so early in the day so that my stuff actually might have a chance to dry before packing up in the morning. Then I set up my hammock: I had chosen a site with this huge live oak tree that had a branch that came down low enough to climb on. I decided I wanted to hang from that branch. So I made it happen.

There was a brochure in the gift shop advertising their bike rentals and the trail that paralleled the highway going from Myrtle Beach down to Litchfield. It was part of the East Coast Greenway! Part of me wished I had known were to pick it up in Myrtle to come here the day before, but the other part of me knew I was being too stingy to want to fork out the money to stay in a legit campsite. Anyway, there was a bike shop on the route, and I decided it was the perfect excuse to go out and do a little pleasure riding on the trail. The guys at Cyclopedia were awesome. They were very friendly and adjusted my disk brakes, which had started rubbing again. They were amazed (as most are) that I was doing this by myself, but were more excited for me than anything. I was gifted a big handful of gluten free energy bar bite things in "menuka honey" before I headed back to the park.

The sun was starting to set, and I thought I would make use of the gift shop building, as it was about three stories tall, with outlets and lights and bathrooms, so I stuffed some food, clothes, my hygiene kit, and notebook in a bag, along with all my chargers and headed over to work on my journal. The thought of that blasted raccoon front he morning was in the back of my mind, but it was only about 10 by the time I headed back to camp. And there it was on all its glory, as I came around the small bend in the trail to find my food scattered all over the ground and two glowing eyes looking up at me with a puppy-been-caught look on its face. I hissed and ran at it and clapped, and it reluctantly headed for the woods, stopping to look back at me a few times to see if I was serious, forcing me to come at it again.

Luckily my pannier was not ripped or torn at all, but there were slobbery teeth holes in nearly every packet of food I had, and my instant potatoes and hot chocolate mix was everywhere, mixed in with the sand. "Great," I thought. "Not my whole camp will always smell like food no matter what I do." So I went through my stuff piece by piece and threw away anything that was damaged. Jonathan, from the next camp over, came over to tell me I was welcome to keep my stuff in his truck tonight and I gladly accepted. I also begrudgingly decided to move my hammock over to a different empty site to try to avoid any more encounters with that obnoxious coon.

I got invited to their fire for tea and hot dogs, and he told me that he had done his fair share of bike touring as well, and had already attempted to chase off that beast for me once that night before I came back. Unfortunately, we also had to defend his campsite from the dang wildlife. At one point, I was shining my light right at it and it kept coming right at us anyway! OMG! He got his hatchet to throw at it and I went to get my pepper spray. I would rather save it to use on a person or scary dog, but if I had to spray a coon to teach it a lesson, so be it.

We stayed up till about 1 am with him retelling stories of all of his travels, mostly through the northern states, from what I remember, but it seems as though he'd been about everywhere. He agreed that SC was probably one of the least friendly bike states as far as touring goes, after I told him my experience about heading into Conway. (Surprisingly, nearly every single South Carolinian I've mentioned this to acts so very surprised. They think SC is extremely bike friendly. In the more touristy cities like Myrtle Beach, I can see this, but I consider it more tolerance.)

After I finally turned in, with a belly full of chamomile tea, I slept like a baby.

Day 7: October 16, Myrtle Beach to Brookgreen Gardens

I was slightly upset that I couldn't seem to sleep past 3:30. There was no reason for if, as the couple next to me had finally gone to bed and the camp was quiet, and I debated digging out my OTC sleeping pills. I couldn't stop thinking about all the negativity of the past few days: the near miss dog attack, the woman lecturing me, basically getting run off the road, having to go 5 miles out of my way through the neighborhoods to get to a street light not even 1/2 miles in front of me, cracking my phone in Subway, not knowing where I will sleep at night, and going about 3 times over my intended budget for the first week were all starting to get to me.

I decided I needed a rest day, but when I packed up and was about ready to roll out, I couldn't find my hat. I thought I must have either lost it or someone stole it. Of all the things for someone to steal! I only have so many things on this trip and they all have serve an important function. After riding around the campground and stopping into the general store/office to ask, I noticed that the buckle I had it attached to had come undone. My hat was really gone, so a trip to Walmart to get a new one was now a priority, as it had become a sunny day. I also wanted to get to a library and finish posting my most recent days on my blog.

I enjoyed the bike paths and the bike lanes very much, and started thinking about how Myrtle Beach was so unlike the rest of SC. I finally got to Walmart and got my hat as well as a few other things I needed. Then I continued on to what must be the worst library for visitors I think I've ever been in. You only got 15 minutes of computer time to do whatever you needed to do, and if you wanted to print anything you had to prepay. ( I wasn't printing but the people next to me were, and complained about having to know how many pages you would need to print before even sitting down.)

I also left my bike in front by the bike rack, which was out of sight of the front desk workers. There were two guys sitting on the retaining wall that took a little too much interest in it, and when I asked if I could move it closer where they could see it, I got a big, definite "NO," as if I was asking the craziest thing ever. So  I went as quick as I could and found a likely place I could sleep that night behind a church out in the woods in the figurative middle of no-where, just in case my couch surfing requests fell through again.

I really intended to do as little riding as possible today and take it easy and enjoy Myrtle Beach, but I found myself kind of wandering around not really knowing what to do with myself. I followed the bike path that followed highway 17 for a while, before taking a 90 degree turn away from the busy road. It was a super nice ride, but in unfortunately ended suddenly near a new, still-being-built neighborhood. Instead of backtracking, I decided to ride through the neighborhood, which was ended up being a very long way to get back to where I started. It was getting to be a few hours before sunset, and I decided to start heading to the church as I still hadn't heard anything back. I rode through a very twisty backroads route, which started really adding the miles and anxiety. What if this church thing turns out to be a dud? Right as the sun was setting I finally found it, and it was perfect. There were deep woods behind it that I could hang from and a concrete pad and stoop that I could use as well. So I sat on the back steps and waited for the sun to go down.

Then I noticed an odd thing start to happen: the darker it got outside, the brighter it got behind the church! There were a number of street lights all around the side and back of the church that I didn't notice before. I could see the lights from cars passing by on the road out front and started worrying that they could see me. I pulled out a black piece of ripstop I brought that I have been using as a ground cloth and covered the bags and reflectors on the front of my bike and made sure that the angles of view were as good as possible. Now I felt slightly trapped here: if I went to the woods surely someone would see me, and the forest didn't seem as impenetrable now as in the day, when I could see the lights of the cars through the leaves.

I decided I wouldn't use my stove tonight: I would break out one of the two MRE pouches I brought instead. Then I got ready for bed, making sure to wear what I intended to ride out in the next morning, and packed up everything except my sleeping things, toothbrush and toothpaste. I wanted to make sure was really ready for a quick escape this time!

I went to sleep early, around 8:30. At 11, I was woken up by a noisy truck with a loose metal trailer roaring around to the back of the church. I was freaked out because I had been discovered, but not really able to do anything but look at it with big, wide eyes. It turned around and paused for a moment with its headlights right on me! Then it floored the gas and drove away. I obviously looked like a homeless person (indeed, in a sense I am...) and I can only imagine I scared him about as bad as him me. I waited for about 45 minutes wondering if he, the cops, or any hooligan teenagers of his would be coming back... I finally fell back to sleep only to be woken back up around 12:30 by a raccoon scratching on the tree in front of me. I yelled at it, shined my flashlight at it, and hissed at it, and it went away. "Great," I thought, "Now I'm going to be fending off a raccoon the rest of the night!" Fortunately, this one had obviously not been habituated to people like the horribly insistent ones in established campgrounds, and I didn't see it again.

Day 6: October 15, Conway to Myrtle Beach

The hotel in Conway was a welcome change from the place I stayed at the night before. With clean laundry and a bike (tolerant) atmosphere, my batteries were recharged and I was ready to get some stuff done. First thing on my list: weatherproof my stuff, as the forecast was calling for 30-40% chance of rain, and no one likes soggy clothes or sleeping bags. After lining all my bags with a garbage bag (like I should have done from the beginning), I headed over to the library! I ended up spending several hours there, as although they had a one hour time limit, they didn't have a limit to how many one hour time slices you could use. I was able to post a few days worth of blog posts here, and I was careful to take a few breaks so I wasn't hogging the computer, as there were a lot of people that wanted on around lunchtime. After not hearing anything back from the couch surfers for Conway, I again decided to move on.

There are only two routes to Myrtle beach from Conway: 501, which is the most direct route, and 544, which is a little more bendy. After my harrowing experience yesterday, I decided to ask around for some local advice. The librarian made it seem that 501 was the best option, as it was 4 lanes "with a shoulder," whereas 544 "was 4 lanes only in some parts and didn't have a shoulder." Based on this information, I decided to go against my instinct and take 501. (I can tell you now: if you are ever going to ride your bike from Conway to Myrtle, please take 544.) First, to get out of town, I had to go up a very steep 2 laned bridge with a raised sidewalk and no shoulder. To get on the sidewalk, you had to go up two tall steps. I knew right away that if I attempted to bike it, the people behind me were going to be *pissed* because I would be crawling due to the incline and they wouldn't be able to pass because of the bumper to bumper traffic.

So I dragged my bike up the two stairs and walked it across the bridge. Much catcalling ensued. I was also disappointing to find that it continued to be only a 2 lane road on the other side of the bridge, and that the "shoulder" was a 6 inch strip of crumbling asphalt. I pushed on until I came to an overpass which was curved to the right (creating a blind spot), only 2 lanes, and no shoulders, as well as being very steep. I bailed and found a round about way to the street light I could see in front of me, a mere half mile away. Over 5 miles later I finally made it there. Crossing over 501 brought me to 544, which I was pleased to find had a nice sidewalk, as well as being 4 or 5 lanes wide (I can't remember if there was a turning lane or not.) At some point, I stopped at a Subway, where I found out about a storm blowing in, and where I dropped my phone, shattering the screen. I was very upset about this, and was starting to feel all the negativity building from the last few days and I started to feel like I couldn't do this. After eating my sandwich I started to feel a little better, and getting to ride the sidewalk almost the entire way to Myrtle Beach also did wonders for my sanity. (Once again, sidewalk riding is statistically more dangerous than road riding. Please do your research and understand how accidents are likely to occur so you can be on the lookout for those situations.)

Myrtle Beach itself was very good to me. A woman in a blue car that looked like should could have come straight from California with a surfboard on the roof pulled up next to me and asked me about my trip before telling me that she thought I was awesome. Thank you random woman! You have no idea how much that meant to me that day!

I pulled into Myrtle Beach State Park with lightning and thunder threatening. I got a site and set up (the lady that signed me in was the best in helping me pick a spot with the best trees for my hammock), including my tarp (for the first time), and all that happened was a few drops. The shower was great, and I went to the beach and ate dinner there. I would have slept like a baby if it wasn't for the couple in the pop up camper next to me watching TV all night...

Day 5: October 14, Tabor City to Conway SC

The bed itself was surprisingly comfortable in this otherwise terrible motel. Perhaps it was because I was so exhausted. None of my clothes had dried, and now they all smelled like ashtray and piss on top of it. I was hungry again and thought about the Philly cheese steak I didn't get to have the night before as I packed up.

The phone rang twice at 9:30: I'm sure it was a not-so-subtle wake-up call. I started wondering if this creep was going to start hassling me for staying too long, when his checkout time was clearly printed on his window for 11 am, but then again, he didn't seem to give a rats' ass about his own policies. I headed off about 10:30 to look for the library. It was closed. So was the welcome center. I found a Subway in a gas station and got my sandwich. Then I stopped at the police station again to verify my directions. They were still closed. (Don't ever need a cop in Tabor City on nights or weekends it would seem.)

I grudgingly changed into my stinking damp riding clothes because it had gotten unbearably warm out, and I finally started down the busy 701 highway to Loris, SC. I want to thank everyone that put up with me on that stretch without much fuss.

I stopped at a food lion and picked up some more cheddar cheese sticks as soon as I got into town, and asked the cashier if there was a library. It was also closed. I tried to bum the internet from outside, but gave up after a while, and called my mom to regroup. I still hadn't heard back from the couch surfer I had contacted, and it was getting to be about mid afternoon. I finally decided to head on, as I had found some back roads into Conway, so I could get off the busy 701.

For the most part, this was a nice ride: almost like the roads I took on my Wilmington trip. I found a nice little hidden spot to go pee at near one intersection, and debated spending the night there but it was still rather early for stopping, I thought. On a different road I found a closed tanning salon with some chairs sitting under a porch in the front. It looked rather inviting so I went ahead and stopped for a while and regrouped. I called my mom and asked her to start finding out some options for me to spend the night, because it was getting to be a few hours before dark, and I heard 4 or 5 gunshots in the woods somewhere, bringing back bad memories of the dogs. It was also getting to be about rush hour.

The last 4 or 5 miles into Conway were terrible. The traffic was too heavy for the two laned highway with no shoulder. One old woman took the time to slow down and lecture me about riding here. As she drove off, I almost flipped her the bird, but thought better of it and waved with a smirk (I swear it was meant to be a smile) and I think that gesture made her more angry than if I had given her the bird. A little while later, the road curved to the right and a big RV was coming up too fast behind me. He tried to pass even though there was no room with all of the oncoming traffic, and everyone had to slam on their brakes because of it: him, the people behind him, and the people on the other side of the road. Horns blared from all around. I held my position and held my palm out to him to tell him to slow down! Once he pulled up next to me, he came back into my lane before he had completely passed me, which would have effectively forced me off of the road, had I not come to a stop myself. I would have given anything at that moment to have a Batman type bike with mistles to shoot that that guys' tires. I didn't get a good look at the driver's face that was behind him. I wonder if he saw the recklessness of the RV driver, or if he blamed me for all the trouble as well.

After finally getting into town, things changed quickly for the better. There were signed bike routes and bike lanes. I wondered why a city that would have such bike infrastructure would be so hostile to me only a few miles from town. I found my hotel easily enough, (The EconoLodge) which my mom had so very kindly paid for. (Thanks mom!) After a hot shower, laundry in a real washing machine, and dinner at a Chinese buffet on which I absolutely gorged myself, I went to bed.

Day 4: October 13, Lake Waccamaw to Tabor City

The campsite at Lake Waccamw was much better than where I was at the first night. It was quiet, there were bathrooms with running water, and it was clean and open. I did wake up around 3:30 when the wind picked up becuase I got cold, but it wasn't bed enough for me to get up to do anything about it. My parents called and wanted to come visit me to give me some things I had forgotten at the house. I took my time getting started and packed, and it was already about 11 when I finally started rolling back to the visitor's center. There is a very informative museum inside that talks about the history of the lake and about Carolina bays in general.

Lake Waccamaw is unique because it is the biggest lake from Maine to Florida (according to a lady who happened to overhear me talking to my parents about it), and because the limestone it's on neutralizes the water, making it more hospitable for plant and animal life. Both Jones and Singletary Lakes have a pH in the 4 range, and only have fish species numbering in the teens. Waccamaw, by comparison, has a pH of around 7 and has over 40 species of fish! They have also discovered a huge whale skeleton in the bottom of the lake from back when shallow seas covered the area. Needless to say, this place was right up my alley.

Not long after I left, I passed my parents. We decided to meet up at the depot museum near the north side of the lake, which had more history of the area, and to get lunch, and I directed them to the visitors center where I had just been to look around while I made my way leisurely around the lake. Unfortunately, the museum was closed, so it was on to lunch at Dale's restaurant. A few nice people came up to ask about my trip and wish me luck. After we ate, I changed into something more suitable for distance riding, and continued on my way.

I was soon stopped by a gentleman mowing his lawn who invited me back onto his deck to sit and stay a while. I wish now that I had, but if I was going to make it to Tabor City before dark, I really needed to get going. Just going around the lake was a 10 mile ride, and it was going to be another 30 to get to Tabor City! I tried to reason that the first 10 miles were so nice and relaxing that they didn't really count.

Saturday was a hunting day, which I knew but didn't think too much of. I know better now. I had more dog encounters than I could count, most of which were nothing too serious, but there was one that I legitimately thought I was going to have my legs ripped off from the knees down. My whistle did nothing but infuriate them, and I was unable to get my pepper spray out of its' compartment. I was flying down the road going almost 18 mph with the dogs snapping rabidly at my ankles (they were in fact up past my rear panniers), when I looked up to realize I was inches away from going off the road on the wrong side... I don't know how I got out of that one to be perfectly honest. Maybe I finally got out of their territorial zone, but they did eventually slow down and stop. That one is going to stay with me for a long time, and I really want to send in a formal complaint on that house about how those dogs, being as vicious and protective as they are, should not be out like that... I will probably write a page just on what I've learned about dealing with dogs in the future.

After the dog encounter, I was mentally and physically done. I still had about 10 miles to go and they were the most torturous 10 miles I think I've ridden yet. Every time a dog barked I about died: I was cursing and praying that I wouldn't get chased again. I rolled into an RV campsite about 6 pm, right around sunset. the office closed at 5, so no dice. I stopped into the ice cream shop to see if there was a way for me talk my way into a site for the night. Then I called my mom to see if she could find out how much a room would be at the hotels in town while I enjoyed some fresh waffle cone tastyness. No one was answering their phones, she said, so I rode on, hoping for the best.

My GPS said there was a hotel that didn't exist, and I passed by the same stretch of street about 3 times looking for it before I finally decided that it just wasn't there. I passed by a fire station-looking EMS building and took a mental note that they might put me up for the night if i was nice/desperate enough. I stopped into a gas station to ask what they knew and they told me the nearest place was about 5 miles away. 5 miles was out of the question for me at this point, as it was about pitch black out now, and I was cold, tired, and just done. I found the police station, which was closed, but there was a guy outside that told me there was a place about a mile down the road, if all I wanted was a roof over my head and a hot shower. I thanked him and headed off.

The Economy Inn in Tabor City is the nastiest, sketchiest place I've stayed in a very long time, but desperation does things to a person... The owner claimed that all the rooms were non-smoking, even though both rooms he sent me to reeked of tar and had ashtrays on the nightstand, and no no-smoking signs to be found. I just wanted this night to be over so bad that I didn't even argue after the second room turned out to be worse than the first. I was halfway into the shower when the room phone started ringing. I had a moment of panic as I realized the inside of the bathroom door had no knob, but I was able to turn the mechanism to get out with my fingers. He wanted to now if this room was OK, and then started asking me personal questions about my trip. It was the one about whether I was in a group or traveling alone, and how he said it, that got my spidey senses all up in a bunch. I called my mom and begged her to find somewhere else for me to stay, but the line was so broken she couldn't understand a word I was saying. It was like a horror movie unfolding before my eyes. I double locked the door and took my shower, and when I came out I checked the closet for false panels.

When I was able to calm down enough to think sensibly, I went back out and had a long relaxed conversation with the guys who were sitting outside when I came in. I wanted to make friends, to take the mystery out of the new girl (I thought that if I got to know one or two of them and they all knew I was now buddies with so-and-so, I would be less likely to be bothered by any of the others), and to get a feel for what they thought of the owner. It turned out to be pretty cool, the Spanish guy that didn't speak any English literally staring me down with a half smile till I left freaked me out, but he kept his distance. There was even a nice little dog that we played fetch with for a while, and I was even gifted a small video camcorder to use for my travels, since I didn't have one. (I should probably figure out how to use that. I haven't really had time to look over the manual.) I made sure to tell my dog attack story so that I could mention that I was in possession of pepper spray. (I mentioned the words "pepper spray" a few times till I saw the look of understanding sink in to everyone's eyes.)

Soon it was time for them to go to bed, as they had work in the morning (they were working on a plumbing project nearby). I looked through the fast food literature that seems to breed in these kinds of places, and decided I wanted a Philly cheese steak from Dominoes, because they delivered. After trying a few numbers that were out of service, and finding out that the online website said they don't deliver here, I had to wonder about all the promotional stuff and where it came from, and the thought of a bad horror movie came creeping back into my consciousness. I did laundry in the tub like I had all last summer, and strung out a line through the room to hang my stuff from: I wasn't going to lay my clothes on anything that lived in this room. I made myself a sort of picnic with what I had, and started thinking about bed. I decided that the sheets were clean, but the pillowcases and blanket were not, so off they went. I pulled out my own pillowcase and sleeping bag, put the trashcans in front of the doors, made sure the window was locked (or at least closed...) and went to bed with my flashlight in one hand and my pepper spray in the other.

Day 3: October 12, Singletary Lake to Lake Waccamaw

I left about 11 am, after waking up before my alarm, which I had set for 7. I didn't want to get out my sleeping bag because it was cold in the cabin this time, due to the bathroom window being open without my realizing it. I kinda knew a window was open, because of how fast the tempurature dropped last night, and I had gone and checked all the bedroom windows, but I didn't think about the bathroom.

There was a group coming in to camp later in the afternoon, so I couldn't really stick around. I headed to the fire tower that I missed when I came through the first time, being extra careful not to pass it this time. It was set back a little bit from the road, and turned out to be a great place to eat lunch. I was able to get into the crows nest in this one, and I took my time and checked Facebook at the top and actually changed clothes up there too because it had gotten rather warm.

Around noon I decided it was time to move on. Soon I got to the road that would take me to the ferry. I startled a great blue heron in the swamp on the side of the road before I made it all the way to the river! I definitely wished I had my camera out as it swooped silently away through the trees. I stopped and ate some more food at the picnic tables by the ferry, and one of the workers came and chatted with me a little. They also told me about the huge ride that had come through last week, and he told me he was one of the people that helped plan and prepare the route by mowing the grass and things. He also gave me a pear, which was rather kind of him. I brought a notebook with me so I could attempt to keep a journal of everything, and I went to pull it out and work on it while I snacked. I couldn't find it, however, and I couldn't remember packing it! I really did check the cabin before I left, and I didn't see anything, but these two things had me doubting myself. I sent Stevie a message, and he told me to wait while he looked for it. It wasn't there. I checked my bags again, and came to the conclusion that I really would just loose my head if it wasn't attached: it was in fact in my bags. So I continued on, feeling a bit bad that I had led Steve on a wild goose chase.

After a while I came upon a little gas station with a post office next to it. I went in and got a little junk food happy. I just about picked up one of everything, but had to remind myself that I have limited space in my bags. I also really had to pee, but the guy was on the phone speaking a language I didn't recognize and told me they didn't have one. So I headed over to the post office. I could see the toilet right through the door, but the lady informed me that it was against policy for customers to use it. The gas station has one, she said. So I headed back over to the gas station. There was a different man behind the counter this time, and he pointed me to the back. On my way out, feeling refreshed, I smiled and said my thanks, and he looked a little offended that I wasn't going to buy anything after I used their bathroom. Look buddy, I already bought about 7 bucks work of chocolate and honey buns from you guys just a second ago.

The next miles all the way into Lake Waccamaw seemed to fly by. It was very pleasant, and mostly downhill. I did have to ride on a few miles of unpaved road, but it was so hard packed that I barely seemed to notice, and I continued on going about 11 mph just like I had on the pavement. I was thrilled that this stretch wasn't sand, as I didn't want my bike to think I didn't love it, and I didn't want to have to back track and figure out a way around.

I passed by the local high school around the time they were being let out, and a truckfull of teenage boys shouted unintelligible but encouraging things at me. The only thing I caught was "be safe," which I've come to take as a general good luck and have fun sentiment.

Waccamaw is just downright beautiful and pleasant, if you come prepared for the mosquitoes: it is a swampland area after all. I was stopping probably every 30 feet or so to take a picture of this tree or that dock, and there were several people out for leisurely cruises around the lake on their own bikes. The park were I intended to camp was on the south side, and I saw probably a dozen alligators on my way in. The visitors center was supposed to close at 5, but already had their sign up at 4:30. Slightly annoyed, I debated waiting till 4:45 when they said they would be back, or riding down to the campsite to see it I could find someone there. I decided to ride on down. A ranger saw me and followed me in: it's pretty obvious what I'm up to with my loaded bike with a sleeping bag on top rolling down the road.

He gave me a ride back to the visitors center and got me all signed in, and drove me back to camp, where I was immediately attacked my mosquitoes. And these were the kind whose bites made me swell up like an egg sized knot! Fortunately, I only got two before I was able to whip out my bug spray. Unfortunately, on was on my forehead... I pulled out my permethrin treated clothes and hygiene kit, and went to do some exploring.

The sunset was nice, but I had a lot to do before dark, so I only went out to enjoy it for a few minutes. The bathroom had a no changing clothes or bathing sign, but I reasoned that was for practical purposes in the busy season. It was only me and one other group tonight... So I took a sponge bath in one of the stalls. No hair washing again tonight... I make some Spanish style rice with the taco seasoning and dried mixed veggies I brought, and put it in a tortilla with a cheese stick, but it was a bit too spicy for me, as I used too much seasoning. It was still the best meal I had cooked for myself on this trip so far though.

Day 2: October 11, Bushy Lake to Singletary Lake

Thursday was a very long day. I woke up off and on a few times in the night due to those annoying dogs. At one point they all started howling in a strange choir chorus that lasted 3 or 4 minutes. It was both beautiful and haunting... I had originally set my alarm for about 3:30 or 4, so that I could attempt to wake up and be out of there before any hunter found me and got mad at me for smelling up his spot, but it was so cold outside, and it was so comfy in my hammock, that I fell back asleep until the morning rush hour traffic woke me back up at 6:30. Having slept longer than I intended, I decided to get my ass out of there as fast as I could and regroup at Jones Lake State Park. I didn't bother cooking or changing clothes or anything, I just shoved everything in my bags and got back on the road.

About a mile later, my hunger was getting hard to ignore, so I stopped for just a minute to have a snack. I really wanted to get to Jones Lake where I could cook a real meal, so I kept it light. I still believed that it was only another 8 or 10 miles away (about an hour ride). About 1.5 miles after I left my campsite, I realized I didn't have my gloves.

"I must have taken them off to get my snack and left them on the back of my bike when I set off! Crap! I hope they didn't get run over..."

I was soon trying to remember if I even had them on when I stopped, however, as I had this sinking feeling and didn't remember having them as I was pushing my bike back through that sandpit of a road. I rode all the way back to camp without seeing them, and then remembered that I had indeed taken them off to take a quick picture of my two trees before heading out. They were back in there somewhere. So, angry at myself for my carelessness, I left my bike and trudged back into the woods as quickly as I could. They they were, next to the logs on the ground that I had to roll over.

Swearing to myself that my trail name was going to become "False Starts" at this point, I finally started my trek towards Jones Lake, with a 3.5 mile warm-up already under my belt.

I was starving at this point, having not eaten a decent dinner as well as skipping breakfast, and I was feeling the crash coming on. I kept nibbling on little snacks here and there just trying to get through the next few miles. Soon I realized that Jones lake was actually going to be about a 20 mile ride, and I was extra thankful that I had decided to stay put last night, even after all of the mental hockey I played with myself for half of the night of should I move on or not.

I finally got to the fire tower before Jones Lake and saw that the ladder went all the way down, allowing people to climb it if they wanted to, so I went ahead and pulled over. Some park rangers unlocked the gate for me (liability issues) and I went up. The view was, of course, fantastic, and I got internet at the top! I wasn't able to get into the crows nest itself as it was locked, but I went up as far as I could. Coming back down was even scarier than going up.

There was a big party/picnic group under one of the shelters when I finally got to the lake. I found a group of picnic tables with a grill where no one would mind me spreading all my stuff out to dry, and went to take a shower in the bath house. Little did I know that I should have snuck into the camping showers because the bath house showers only had cold water! I had my leg under there for about 10 minutes before I decided it wasn't ever going to warm up. So I did the best I could, and as it was still relatively cool outside I decided not to wash my hair. As I was in there, several of the women from the picnic came in and commented about how "You know that girl is freezing in there!" I was a little bummed about not getting a hot shower after last nights ordeal, but I got over it as being clean was refreshing, even if it was a cold shower.

After my shower I tried to boil some water using the grill as a windbreak. It didn't work very well, and as I couldn't use my lighter to get the alcohol lit because of the bar placement, I tried to use my waterproof matches and found out how fragile they are. I probably broke 5 just trying to get one lit. Annoying to say the least. Not only that, but the grill made a horrible windbreak (either that or the spacing between the flame and the pot was not ideal) as my water never boiled. I went ahead and decided to make hot chocolate and mashed potatoes anyway, as those things don't really require boiling water. I unfortunately lost my appetite after trying the potatoes. I must have accidentally grabbed the wrong packet-one requiring butter and milk instead of just water.

At this point, I was reminding myself about how the second day was the hardest day on my Wilmington trip as well, and how glad I was that I didn't give up then. I considered calling it a day and spending the night. I took a short hike to think on it, and when I got back, it had warmed up some and my things were drying out. I felt clean and refreshed, and I wanted to visit my friend at Singletary Lake, since I knew he was expecting me to swing by sometime. I tried to force myself to eat some more food, but I wasn't really feeling it, so I packed up, refilled my water bottles, and moved on into what turned out to be a beautiful day. I decided that I didn't like having to get moving like that so early in the morning. I was stiff and cold and I really need an hour or two to wake up and pack up and get moving in the right direction.

A few miles before I got to White Lake, I was again feeling the hunger. I was desperately looking around for a restaurant to stop at, as some properly cooked food was what I needed. I stopped at a golf course, thinking that there might be a restaurant in their clubhouse. No such luck. I turned into White Lake hoping and praying that something was open, and pretty much stubbornly deciding that I wasn't going to leave until I found something that was. (Last time I came through everything was closed.) I was just thinking how great a burger would be when I saw the pizza place. I really wanted a burger... I couldn't believe I was feeling picky at a time like this! Then I saw it: Ski Burger, and they had an OPEN sigh lit! I rolled right on up trying not to look too desperate.

Ski Burger is under new management and is one of the only places that is going to stay open after Labor Day this year. The manager told me that this town shuts down so completely that it all but rolls the street up like a carpet after the summer. They were extremely friendly and the food was excellent and very reasonably priced. They said they don't use frozen meat: they make their burgers fresh in small batches every morning. I also ordered some chicken fingers, but was unable to finish them. I really can't say enough how great Ski Burger is. I didn't realize that they closed at 3, which was a little after I showed up. They didn't make me feel rushed at all and actually got on me a little for eating too fast after I realized I was there after they were supposed to close. They also gave me extra cookies and didn't want me to leave any tip. The manager was great to chat with and told me that a huge ride with over 1100 entries had come through about a week prior. They had been busy feeding all of them dinner and then breakfast the next morning as this was an overnight stop. It was a 6 day ride, and I forget how many miles. I think it was over 500: more than I could do and finish in 6 days, that's for sure. 

After my tummy was happy again, I continued on the last 5 miles or so on to Singletary Lake. Stevie was out trying his new kayak that he had painted in camouflage for duck hunting. Another ranger radioed him and told him that I was here, and a few minutes later he came roaring in on his truck. We chatted for a little while and he offered me a cabin again. I was definitely ready for a real hot shower, and wasted no time making myself at home. I had a lot of chores to do tonight, including some laundry and bike maintenance. My bike was squeaking and grinding all day long from the sand getting in places where it didn't belong. I spent a few hours cleaning the chain and figuring out how to take apart my tensioner and clean out the bearings. It was good as new after that and I felt accomplished.

I went out to the lake for sunset again, but it was a quick trip as there weren't any clouds, which is what makes most sunsets spectacular, in my opinion. I found some squirrel prints, which I thought were raccoons at first because of the distinctive little hands they have, but then I decided they were too small. I don't like raccoons... After chatting with my mom and a few friends I turned in early.

Day 1: October 10, Fayetteville NC to Bushy Lake

I finally left my house Wednesday afternoon. After reaching a certain point in cleaning and packing my stuff away, I gave up and texted everyone to come say goodbye. I asked Andrew if he would be willing to escort me out of town, because, frankly, I'm afraid of Fayetteville traffic. The fact that I would be riding through a park, and my 8 mph speed leaving my neighborhood made us realize it wasn't going to happen, however. He tripped the left turn light for me and waved goodbye.

The ride out of town wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, and the park was downright enjoyable. I will admit I mostly rode on the sidewalk, which is a big no-no. At least those roads had sidewalks... Fayetteville isn't known for its' street planning...

I stopped at the Airborne Museum near downtown, because they had expanded it since the last time I'd been there. There was a whole new building and gardens commemorating those lost in the wars. They had an interesting visual display inside with dog tags for each North Carolinian who died for each war. WWII was by far the biggest killer. I went ahead and took the time to locate the tag for a fallen high school friend who was killed in Iraq the day after I got married...

The rest of my ride that day was pretty uneventful... Until I was ready to stop for the night. I had picked out Bushy Lake State Natural Area as a likely candidate to take a break at and maybe camp for the night. Unfortunately, the road to get there was blocked off and had a big sign that said "No Trespassing!" Well, the sun was setting, and I was starving and tired, so I kept going to the back-up road I had picked out, just in case the first one was blocked. It was protected by some half-hearted wire lines and some sand dunes, but I was pretty determined. There were no actual signs saying I couldn't... The road leading back was lumpy and sandy, and I knew from the beach at Wilmington that my bike and sand really don't get along. But Jones Lake was so far away...

I had to keep going as two cars passed me. Then I turned around and slowed down to let another car pass me. Damn end-of-day traffic! As soon as that car was gone I sprinted my bike down the road as far and as fast as I could to get out of view. I had to drag my 100 pound bike through the sand about 75-100 feet into a clearing, and I do mean drag. I found some trees that were hidden from the road as fast as I could and drug my bike over some logs to get it closer. The ground was too spongy for my kickstand to do anything, and I eventually gave up and let it stay on its side.

As soon as the sun set, the temperature plummeted in a matter of minutes and an uncomfortable dampness immediately settled on everything. I was reminded just how much I actually don't like camping. Not primitive camping anyway. And this was about as primitive as it gets, with the added element of trying not to get caught. I gave up trying to cook or give myself any sort of shower to seek refuge in my sleeping bag.

Most of the night was spent listening to the hunting dogs across the street bark at me and worrying about meeting the hunter whose tree stand I was camped out under first thing in the morning. When I was able to fall asleep, however, it was good sleep.

Details, Details

I'm still sitting here at home, over 2 weeks after I originally wanted to leave on my epic adventure. The Wilmington trip was great, and an epic adventure in its own right. Strangely, as I was sitting at work the day after I got back, it felt as if it hadn't happened at all. 4 days? It only seemed like a dream... The only conclusion that I could draw was that it was obviously too short.

So why am I still here? Well, I realized that I needed more space, as I had decided to leave quite a bit of the long term gear I intended to take at home (not that big of a deal due to the clear weather forecast and short duration), so I ordered some front racks and bags. I also realized a few modifications I would like to make to my current gear, like adding netted closeable windows to my hammock sock to allow me to peek out and make sure no animals are going through my stuff in the night without exposing myself to any vicious mosquitoes or letting out too much warm air, or for added ventilation on the steamier nights.

I also needed to take advantage of the free tune up REI gives you when you purchase a new bike from them before the 6 month time limit was up. This was to be the start of a long process of getting my bike into its final touring-ready form. REI had my bike for about a week, which seemed like torture. When I got it back, I immediately gave it to Cycles de ORO in Greensboro to change out the 20 tooth back cog with a 22 tooth one, so that I could have some lower gears for the hills I would be encountering. I ordered the part when I turned my bike into REI, so it was ready to go when I got it back, and the switch was supposed to be done that same day. Unfortunately, my internal gear hub somehow broke (the shop said they had never seen one break that way and that the Alfine hub I have is top quality and something like this should never happen again. Shimano sent the shop a replacement hub for free). This added another week onto my trip departure date. At this point I started feeling like I would never get out of here, and fell into a small depression. Not being able to ride for several weeks, as well as some car issues my family was experiencing which left me stranded at the house most days, had me falling back down pretty fast. I needed to pack and clean and finish my projects, but I just couldn't find the motivation.

My front racks and panniers came in, and I eventually got the call that my bike was ready to be picked up. My high school art teacher, who I am still friends with, took me to go get it, and it was like being reunited with a long lost love: I couldn't stop smiling. Unfortunately, my elation only lasted about a day as I realized I couldn't get the racks on myself and the back brakes were causing just enough friction on the disk to not make any obvious rubbing noises but still make the wheel stop after a revolution or two, and nothing I did to adjust said brake was working. I took it back to the shop (the local one this time), and I left it there for a day to put my racks on and fix the brakes. When I got it home, I realized that some bolts needed to be cut shorter and my brakes were still not to my liking. Back to the shop it went.

After getting it back from Greensboro, I realized that my departure was eminent, and began the last minute sewing projects that I had been putting off, as well as started watching the weather, as a nasty cold front was on its way that would drop our pleasant 85 degree highs down to a chilly 65 and 57 degrees for two days (Sunday and Monday). After that it would be in the 70s: not as high as before, but not as cold as those two days either. Fall is definitely here and I need to get my butt in gear! I went for a 28 mile ride Sunday with my rear panniers full of stuff so that I could hopefully minimize any painful repeat of the 2nd days' difficulties on the Wilmington trip, especially since it's now been almost a month since I've done any riding! My new date of expected departure is Tuesday, the 9th. Better late than never.

What I'm Taking With Me On My Trip Across The Country

Here's my packing list, and what everything cost. (Free items are things I already had, and are something most people would already have as well, or are fairly cheap to buy new.)

Total cost for my current setup: $2180
You can see in my itemized list that I did quite a few DIY projects to save money on certain items, as well as used some things I already had around the house. However, I also bought a number of pretty expensive things that have cheaper alternatives, or that others might find unnecessary all together. This is my list, and everyone's list will be different to suit their own needs. In case you were wondering, I had originally budgeted $1000 for the bike and $500 for gear, before I started buying anything. If you don't count things like special clothes, electronics, or the modifications I made to the handlebars and gearing, I came pretty close to my goal.

The Bike: $856
Novara Fusion from REI: I bought it with a 20% off coupon, plus tax (a $214 savings from the original price with tax). It's currently on sale for about $700, plus tax.

Bike Modifications: $207
Handlebars: I changed the handlebars to a more swept back, cruiser type, because my wrists were bothering me. (This was probably unnecessary, I just needed the shifter position and handlebar height adjusted...) $22
Grips: (Also unnecessary, but the originals were getting a little torn up from rubbing the sides of the car while traveling, and I didn't think the brown cork matched the rest of the bike anyway) $22
Saddle: Blackburn Women's Sport Trail Seat from Dick's Sporting Goods: $40
Kickstand: ESGE two-leg kickstand, about $45 with shipping, installed by The Bicycle Shop in Fayetteville, NC
Rear cog: I had Cycles de ORO, in Greensboro, change out my 20 tooth back cog for a 22 tooth cog, because I found I hardly ever got up to my 8th gear (and if I did get up to use my 8th gear, I was going plenty fast already and should probably just relax), however, I found myself wishing I had a lower gear or two on some hills. Changing the cog would effectively slide my gear range down a notch or two. $10 for the cog, $20 for labor. (I intend to keep the original cog with me on my trip in case I decide to change it back due to my fitness level increasing or what not.)
Front racks: Axiom Journey DLX Low Rider racks: $33 with shipping, installed by The Bicycle Shop
Front rack adapters: Jandd Disk Brake/Fender Adapters, because my disk brakes were in the way: $15

Accessories: $167
Front pannier set: Avenir Excursion Small Panniers: $48
Back pannier set: Avenir Excursion Large Panniers: $65
Phone mount: Arkon SM432 Mega Grip: $13 (great at dampening the road vibrations, and my camera barely peeks out of the top, allowing for easy road videos and pictures. A small piece of foam to raise the phone up another few millimeters will probably be added later.)
Bike Computer: Sunding Bicycle Computer from dealextreme.com (super cheap, decent quality Chinese stuff, but takes forever to get here): $5
Tube bag: Axiom power bag 2: $16 (there are cheaper comparable products out there)
Handlebar bag: Avenir Metro seat bag: $8 (the plastic insert makes this bag somewhat hard to use, I probably wouldn't buy it again.)
Water bottle cage: Topeak Medula XL: $12

Gear:  
     Bike maintenance: $51
          -Pump: Topeak Road Morph with gauge: $30
          -Patch kit: $4
          -Hex key set (taken from a larger tool kit already owned): free (this is similar)
          -Screwdriver set: I found a small pen style set at Walmart for about $2 (this is similar)
          -Tire levers and wrench: (taken from a different patch kit already owned): free (found here, the glueless patches are sub-par, which is why I bought another kit with the orange-edged patches and vulcanizing glue.)
          -Chain cleaner and lube: SpinPower foaming degreaser and dry chain lube, from Cycles de ORO: about $15

     Kitchen/Water: $103
          -Water sterilizer: Steripen: $46 (UV light kills the germs, but doesn't filter out any chemical contaminants. I might eventually pick up a filter to use in conjunction with this. Purification tablets would be cheaper and smaller, but they tend to leave a taste and most don't kill all of the really nasty bugs (crypto and giardia) due to their hard shells.)
          -Water bladders: 96 oz Nalgene Canteen: 2 for $20 from ebay. (The ones I got tend to leak if they are laid on their sides, and the large screw top lids prevent them from packing down as small as I would like, and of course water is heavy, and so these are heavy when filled. I bought them with desert water storage in mind, but now I think that smaller topped 2 liter bladders would be more practical in normal situations...)
          -Coffee filters: free
          -Cook pot/bowl: GSI Glacier Bottle Cup: $10 from Dick's Sporting Goods
          -Extra cook pot/bowl: Jumbo Stainless Steel Cup Holder: $7 (it nests perfectly inside the Glacier cup)
          -Measuring cup: $1.50 (also fits nicely inside the cup holder)
          -Can opener: free (This is the one I'm taking, and it fits easily in the bottom of my pot set)
          -Lighter/waterproof matches: free (fits inside the pot set)
          -Tea candle tins: free (this is what I'm using as my stove. I cut one down to half hight, turn it upside down for the base, and set another uncut one on top. They hold 1/2 oz of alcohol fuel, and as long as you can block the wind with a wind screen or fire ring, then it is usually enough to bring the water to a boil, which is sufficient to cook/reconstitute things like oatmeal, instant mashed potatoes, or pasta if you are patient and have a pot cozy. With a little planning, you could also boil an egg and use the hot water for other things. Or, you could refill the tin and continue boiling the water for a few minutes (make sure the fire is actually out before adding more fuel!)
          -Pot stand: free. I made mine with an unloved wire coat hanger and some craft wire. It fits inside my pot setup. You can find some inspiration here, here, and here.
          -Pot cozy: free (made from the extra Reflectix I bought for sleeping)
          -Fuel bottle: $1. I'm using a candy melting decorators' bottle (like this one) that I found at Walmart. It has a snap on tip, which makes me feel more confident that there won't be any accidental spills. You could also use a contact solution bottle.
          -Fork and spoon: free. I'm just using some regular silverware I took out of the drawer. I can use the spoon or the handle of the fork to spread peanut butter or the like if I want to.
          -Small chef's knife with plastic sheath: $15 from Chicago Cutlery at Walmart. I always make sure my knives are stiff and do not flex easily from side to side, as cheaper knives tend to do. I feel like cheap knives are just asking for trouble...
          -Alcohol fuel: $2 (I'm using heet in the yellow bottle)

     Sleeping: $131
          -Sleeping bag: my mother's down bag from her younger years: free! There are also decent quality bags available for about $30. This is the one I bought from Walmart on my Wilmington trip, and it is pretty good.
          -Roll of Refectix from Lowes, to use in cold weather, or if I want to sleep on the ground: $14 (Also will be used to make a pot cozy for my cooking cup.)
          -Hobo Hammock: $15 (I got mine on base, but you can find one here too)
          -Hammock suspension kit: $28 with shipping, from Arrowhead Equipment (I had made some tree straps for just a few dollars from some nylon webbing, but I lost them, and I wanted some whoopie slings anyway, so I went ahead and bought the kit.)
          -Fleece underquilt: $15 (DIY, $10 for blanket, $5 for ribbon and shock cord)
          -Mosquito netting: $9 (DIY project, made from tulle from fabric store)
          -Hammock sock: $20 (DIY project, made from ripstop nylon)
          -Pillowcase: free (stuff some clothes in there, good to go)
          -Tarp: $30 (DIY project, made from ripstop nylon, grommets, and a silicone dip)

     Other: $65
          -Mini key-chain LED flashlights in white and red: $10
          -Mini carabiners: $5
          -Cargo nets: $15 (one was deconstructed for use as shock cord)
          -Bungee cords: $10
          -Permethrin treatment: $20 for 2 bottles (I'm using it on my socks, shoes, hammock sock, bug net, tree straps, bandana, sunhat, and any thing else I can think of to control ants, mosquitoes, and ticks. It supposedly only lasts through 6 washes, though, so I'm not planning on using it on my riding clothes, or any other clothes I intend to wash just about every day.)
          -Safety pins/mini alligator style paper clips: $2
          -Zip ties/velcro straps/rubber bands/duct tape: $3

Clothes: about $300 (only counting the cost for what I bought specially for this trip)
2 under armour heat gear short sleeve shirts
2 work out capri length pants
2 sports bras
2 pairs of "riding underwear"
2 pairs of sports socks
2 under armour cold gear long sleeve mocks
1 pair of arm sleeves (They are supposed to be cooling, but I find them to be about neutral in terms of warmth. They are good to keep the sun off, though.)
2 pairs of long leggings (one is cotton and will be used for sleeping, the other is an under armour cold gear knock off)
1 pair of nice long work out pants that could also be worn off the bike
2 cotton tank tops
2 regular bras
3 regular underwear
1 multicolor skirt (good for pulling on over my riding bottoms before running into a store)
1 pair khaki pants
2 pairs of knee high socks
1 pair of regular white socks
1 fleece jacket
1 waterproof/windbreaker shell type jacket
1 heavy duty rain poncho with grommets in the corners (can be worn while riding to cover my rear bags and handlebars while providing lots of ventilation (assuming no wind: it would act like a sail and be miserable), or used as a tarp or ground sheet)
1 wide brim sun hat
1 winter hat
1 pair winter gloves
1 bandana
1 pair DIY gaiters/shoe covers for riding in the rain, made with left over ripstop (I have fenders but they don't really protect my feet/legs well)
1 bikini swimsuit
Sunglasses
Eye glasses
Watch
Flip flops
Old sneakers (I don't need no special shoes!)

First Aid Kit: free: already had everything around the house
Band aids
Ibuprofen
Pepto Bismol tablets
Allergy pills
Iron pills (very important for me around that time of the month for moods and energy)
Vitamin B complex pills (also helps with my moods sometimes)
Alcohol wipes
Gauze pads
Itch cream (this got moved up to my tube bag for easy access after I got attacked by mosquitoes)
Neosporin
Quick clot
Mooncup, pads, tampons, and liners. (As these are "occasional" items, they will stay in my first aid kit most of the time.)

Personal/Hygiene: about $25 (most of it was stuff I already had)
Hair towel: $7
Microfiber washcloths/mini travel towels: $2 from dollar store
Travel size: (buy empty bottles to fill yourself, or go to the mini/travel section the store, or grab some complimentary ones from hotels)
     -Shampoo
     -Conditioner
     -Toothpaste
     -Face wash
     -Body wash
     -Moisturizing lotion
Folding toothbrush: $2
Floss
Deodorant
Acne cream
Sunscreen
Bug spray
Makeup (just the bare minimum for when I want to re-join society. I don't wear much makeup anyway): concealer, powder, and mascara
Burt's bees chapstick
Emergency roll of toilet paper
Small bottle of hand sanitizer with a rubbery case: $2 (attached on top of one of my panniers for easy access without having to touch anything else.)
Hair brush
Hair ties/clips/bobby pins
Tweezers
Nail clippers
Eye drops
Razor
Small mirror
Mini baby powder
Cotton balls/q-tips
Anti-chaffing stick (looks like deodorant)
Delicates laundry soap for hand washing: $1 from dollar store
Sponge
Ziploc bags
Small trash bags

Electronics: $228
Smart Phone: already had one
Phone charger cable: already had one
Camera: $120
Micro SD card and regular memory card size adapter case from BestBuy: $25 (for being able to put the memory card from the camera into my phone for uploading pics to the internet)
Battery pack: $35
Special bike charger cable, for use with my front hub generator: $30 (the cost was for parts, purchased from Brantley Electronics Supply (who were very helpful and patient with me), and assembled by my dear friend Andrew, who understands gadgetry more than I do, mostly following these plans. You can also buy commercial versions here, and here. There are surely others to be found, but as you can see, they are all pretty expensive.)
Rechargeable batteries: $10
Battery charger: $8

Safety: $33
Pepper spray: $8 (keep it where it is easy to get to)
Whistle: free (also keep it where it is easy to get to, or even better, on your person)
Reflector belt: free (as a military family we have tons of these)
Helmet: $15 (I actually don't wear one, but I will include it anyway)
Combination lock: $10
ID cards, etc.

Miscellaneous: $14
Business cards: free from Vistaprint: $7 for shipping (They have my blog website on them so the people I meet can read about my trip.)
Pocket chair: $7
Notebook/pen

Foods I will likely always be carrying:
Tortillas
Trail mix (I make my own with 1 part mixed nuts/peanuts, 1 part raisins, and 1/2 part M&Ms)
Instant mashed potatoes (the pre-flavored kind that only needs water)
Oatmeal (I prefer cinnamon flavor)
Peanut butter/nutella (Jiff makes these cute little single serving cups now that can help with space)
Fruit leather
Canned chicken/tuna
Applesauce
Instant rice
Granola bars
Some kind of pasta
Hot chocolate mix
Pop tarts
Spices (garlic powder, taco seasoning, etc)

Foods I'm going to try to carry as much as possible:
1-2 carrot sticks
Head of broccoli
1-2 small onions
Individually wrapped cheddar cheeses
Summer sausage
1-2 bananas
Dark chocolate
Eggs