I got going relatively early that morning, as the family I was staying with had to attend a funeral. It was still pretty chilly outside, and I was dropped back off at the gas station where I had been picked up at the evening before. I headed back to the Blue Heron Learning Center, because I really did want to look through it. They had a decently informative collection, especially on the poisonous snakes of the region, and I went ahead and took my time and read everything.
I still didn't know which way I wanted to go into Georgia. My cousin was coming down to Savannah for the weekend to visit with me, so I needed to be there. The pros of taking the "shortcut" were that I would get there a day early and be able to have a look around ahead of time and get settled in and not have to stress out about getting there the day of. The cons were that it was off the bike route and the traffic looked quite heavy when I had scouted it out ahead of time on satellite view. The pros of taking the long way around were that it should be on less traveled and therefore hopefully more pleasant back roads and on an established bike route giving me some semblance of hope that people might have seen someone like me coming through before, while the cons were that it was going to be a full day out of the way and I might be setting myself up to be too stressed out about getting to Savannah in time to still be able to have a decent visit with my cousin.
I went back and forth a good dozen times, each time I was 100% sure that that was what I had decided and that's what I was going to do, and I would mount my bike and I just couldn't do that first push on the pedals to get going. A call to my mom was in order, I just needed to talk it out. A little while later I was heading down highway 17 on my way to Savannah.
It didn't take long for me to realize that I had been spoiled with an usually low amount of traffic the last 2 days due to Halloween; on the way to Yemassee everyone was out with their kids trick-or-treating or partying, and yesterday everyone was at home nursing a hangover or sick from too much candy. Today, everything was back to business as usual. This alone might not have been enough to bother me, but the local bike rider who had given me route advice had failed to mention that when they resurfaced the road they added some deep rumble strips which took up what little shoulder there was. Being stuck between a few semis whom I couldn't trust to give me enough room and a row of death traps was just too much for me. I made it about 2 miles before I pulled off onto a dusty dirt road and called my mom again in desperation. We were both looking up alternate routes and throwing out ideas. I wasn't even willing to ride the 2 miles back into Ridgeland.
Mr. Sheffield, the guy I met the day before, had offered to drive me to Savannah if I wanted a ride, and I considered calling him and making good on his offer. I wondered how long the funeral and any related activities would take, and I thought a lot about how they had already done way more for me than I could have asked for. My mom was reading me street names for an alternate route that she found for me, but one of the roads didn't appear to go all the way through according to my GPS. I also would need to brave another mile or two of the trucks and rumble strips to get to the turn I would need to take. The stress response was impossible to ignore: look at 17 and feel like crying with an angry determination. Look down the dirt road and feel freedom. Three trucks had come down that dirt road while I hemmed and hawed, so I was sure it went all the way through and wasn't gated up at some point. It would pop me out right on the bike route without much trouble, or I could just take a joy ride and loop back around to town, giving me some time to decompress and giving the funeral time to finish up. Any way I looked at it, it boiled down to "what are my priorities now and for this trip?" I had battled my way though South Carolina because there was no other way. But here I was: finally handed a real choice in the matter. I thanked my mom again for her assistance and crossed over the railroad tracks and rode on into the woods, with a big smile on my face and peace in my heart. I don't regret for a moment trying to go down 17, because now I can't say I didn't try it out, and it also, again, helped me bring back into focus that I'm supposed to be having fun out here. It's about the journey, not the destination.
The quiet, empty road in the woods was just what I needed. I soon forgot about looping back to Ridgeland and just rode. Before I knew it, I was back on track to go the way I had originally intended. I passed by a reserve where gopher tortoises were present, and I was tempted to go ahead and spend the rest of the day in search of one. The fact that a little hut with a log book for deer hunters' comings and goings and kills only served to encourage me to set up camp (somewhere near the entrance where I couldn't be seen from the road but would be immediately visible by anyone in a truck as soon as they passed over the little hill), as the last entry was from two days ago, and it didn't seem like anyone would care if I spent the night in the woods there anyway. But the sun was starting to get lower in the sky and I knew I needed to move on.
There was soon only one last bridge in front of me before I crossed the boarder. It was steep and narrow with the split shoulder/sidewalk design that made both too small to use alone. On the other side, the first thing I saw was the welcoming sign of the Georgia bike route #95 that went all the way to Florida. Marked bike route signage! I was so relieved and happy. I had some sort of visible proof that I had a right to be there. "Share the Road" signs! Special "Watch for Bikes on Bridge" signs! But it was what I noticed after riding only about a mile or two into Georgia itself that had me literally dancing and singing merrily as I rode (attracting a little too much attention from the dogs in people's yards as I passed): not only were the lanes wide and there were shoulders present and the quality of the roads improved so much that I suddenly gained a solid 3-4 mph, but I was actually being treated with some common courtesy again! People actually slowed down and waited if another car was coming, even though I had been shell shocked by SC so badly that I had limited myself to the shoulder and they could have easily passed me inside their own lane if they wanted to. No, they moved all the way into the other lane and passed properly regardless. I could tell that they knew I belonged in the lane and not in the shoulder, and that I was confusing them pretty badly as to why I was insisting on staying in my little 2 foot section on the side. I thought about coming out to claim my rightful place and ride like I should and was expected to here where I was respected as a legitimate road user, but decided I needed a little more time with myself first.
The sun was setting faster and faster, but I was getting closer and closer to Springfield, where I had decided to stop for the day. My mom was not answering her phone at all and my battery was about to die. The charging cable had decided to be incredibly touchy when I tried to plug it into my rechargeable battery charger with the USB port that I had been using as a last resort. The internet wasn't really working for me either, and after riding up and down the main stretch and not seeing a single hotel, I started to get worried. I thought about the big Catholic Church I passed on my way into town and how it was probably locked so I would be sleeping outside in the back. I thought about the local government building I passed that was a bit closer with all the cop cars in the parking lot. I thought about whether or not I would be willing to ask to spend the night in a jail cell and what spending a night in a jail cell would be like. What a story that would make!
I passed by a church with the lights on and a few cars in the parking lot. I really had to use the bathroom as well, so I decided to go in and ask around to see what I could find out. The ladies were having a scrapbooking party and making Christmas cards. They welcomed me in and let me use the bathroom and computer. The nearest hotel was in Rincon, another 10-12 miles away depending on which way I went. I had already done over 38 miles that day, which is a decently long day for me, so the thought of doing another 10 in the dark was a little daunting. I went ahead and mentally prepared myself to do it anyway, if it needed to happen. Eventually I asked the ladies if they would mind just locking me in one of the rooms in the church, and they told me to wait while they called the preacher. Lucky for me, there was a family life center just across the street, and I was going to be allowed to stay in it for the night. It even had showers!
I went ahead and got myself all cleaned up, by which time I was starving. I was informed of a restaurant on the next road over that had some of the best fried chicken around, and I went ahead on over and ordered a plate. Everything was made to order, and I was told to come back in about 20 minutes as it had to cook. The ladies working the kitchen were so sweet and there were several other families waiting patiently for their own orders in the dining room decorated with old classic records of famous musicians.
I enjoyed the company of the ladies for a little while longer before deciding to go to bed. I would need to get an early start in order to be in Savannah around 1:00 to meet David. I settled myself down on one of the couches and passed out.
No comments:
Post a Comment