Friday, September 27, 2013

Carolina On My Mind


Monday, September 23rd, 2013.

HD and I hit the road shortly after 7 am, attempting to miss some of the Wilmington traffic but still late enough to have good morning light. Traffic was thick in the midst of Wilmington, but sidewalks made it manageable. 

We arrived at the Fort Fisher ferry shortly after 10 and had a 45 minute wait for the next one on the schedule. There was a single vehicle in line, so I pulled up beside her on the grass. Shortly thereafter, the driver got out of the car to say hello. This was Angie, a beautiful self-proclaimed “hobo”. She is 46 years old, but looks a good 10 years younger, with her fresh face and long wavy blonde hair. She said she had been on the road, off and on, for over a year. She had traversed the country, even to Alaska and back, stopping at her home territory to visit her daughters in Kansas between trips. WIth Kansas as a home base, she had traveled in all directions, like the spokes of a wheel. To finance her trip by car, she worked for brief periods in Alaska and Florida, picking up a few days here and there between those 2 states. 

Angie started her family young, raised them, and then decided to do what she always wanted to do---travel and just see what’s out there. I understood entirely. After all, I’m doing pretty much the same thing, but by cycle rather than by car. 

Angie tries not to overplan things. That is probably where we differ. I spend quite a bit of time on maps and making decisions. Part of this is due to necessity. I can’t ride on just any road I might choose, but have to travel those roads that are legal, somewhat legal, and safest. I always have a place to sleep---whether it be in a motel room or in my tent in an established campground or with a family, friend, or good samaritan. Angie sleeps in her vehicle, a Sienna, with the back seats down and tricked out like a little bedroom. Often this is in a Walmart parking lot or in a quiet neighborhood. She finds various places to shower---a park, truck stop, or campground. However, it is not in her budget to stay in motels or campgrounds. She cooks her food on a single burner propane campstove, often purchasing 1 to 3 days worth of food at roadside stands, farmers’ markets, or the occasional grocery store. 

When not driving to a new location, Angie rides her bike around town, does yoga, and plays hula hoop for exercise. She is redefining what “play” means to her and she says she has learned to live in the moment. Before leaving home and hearth, she raised her children and, once they were established, and her mother passed away (sound familiar so far?), she sold her house and most of her worldly possessions, and took off on the road. She is single and beautiful and kindhearted and not sure if she is ready for another romantic relationship. She has been divorced 6 years, as have I. We laughed at the similarities in our journeys. I talked to her about meeting people through POF--Plenty of Fish, or maybe Match.com.  That way, she can take her time and just talk to people. She is a bit afraid of the dating scene, but the internet dating thing might help her take it slowly. Many of these sites allow you to specify if you just want friendship, a penpal, dating, or a serious relationship. In the meantime, she travels alone.

Once the cars drove onto the ferry, the cyclists were instructed to board. I was parked by a husband and wife cycling couple, Rich and Gwen. This was a very attractive pair: healthy, active, and friendly. Rich is “semi-retired”, having worked for several years in communication technology and software development. Now, he works part time, choosing jobs that interest him. This keeps him busy but perhaps busier than he wants sometimes. He is very athletic and would love nothing better than to actively play every day. As it is, he cycles and runs and swims. He and a friend get together once a week for “boot camp”, which is a very serious exercise program that lasts 60-90 minutes. He and his buddy plan out the evening’s bootcamp, which generally consists of a combination of several strenuous exercise regimens, sequenced without rest. So, a session might include 15 minutes of stair running, crawling several hundred feet, jumping over hurdles or even with a jumprope, push ups, running, and calisthenics. 

Gwen has worked with her husband for several years, which is easier some days than others. Both Rich and Gwen are passionate for outside exercise, cycling, and water sports. Gwen thoroughly enjoys travel.

As we were discussing these things, the captain of the ferry, MaryBeth, came to chat with us. She is a confident woman with a beautiful smile, bright eyes, and thick brown hair, which she had tied back in a pony tail. She has been running this ferry over 15 years. She also recently opened her own watersport business. She rents out boats, kayaks, and paddle surfboards. She teaches lessons on their use and leads water expeditions for individuals and groups. She gave out her business cards upon our request. I imagine that Rich and Gwen may visit her shop!  I know I certainly would if I lived here. I absolutely love to get out on the water in a kayak and would really enjoy learning how to do that paddle surfing. Her business is called Southport Paddle & Sail. Owner Captain MaryBeth Ray.

After deboarding the ferry, I cycled across the parking lot to the information center to consult my maps and figure out where I was going. I met up with Angie and invited her to my campsite for the night as she did not have a planned spot to stay and I wanted to get to know her a little better. She agreed to the plan, offering to make me dinner in return. I couldn’t beat that for a good deal so we parted for the day and she went on to play on the beach while I made my way, cycling with Henry David.

I had to cycle on hwy 17 for about 8-9 miles and North Carolina had the bright idea of giving about 24 inches of shoulder and then putting the ribs on 18 inches of that. This meant either riding in the traffic or in the grass and sand. The traffic suggested I stick to the grass and sand, so the speed of travel slowed down markedly at that point. Once off the 17, it was bliss once again, and I met Angie at the SeaMist Campground, about 35 miles from the ferry landing in Southport. 

This campground is on the intracoastal waterway and its lovely marshes. We were sent to the far corner of the campground and it appeared as if at least 90% of the campers there were semi-permanent to permanent residents, living in their large RVs. We were camped at the edge of the marsh with water birds walking ginergly through the shallow waters and mud. All night, we could hear the bubbling of the air and water through the mud. It was a really cool experience. Angie and I took a walk to the water’s edge and meandered along the short strip of beach, returned to camp, and she made a stir fried veggie dish and pasta. Marvelous!  

Angie and I talked about past loves and heartbreaks, our children, travel, work, and parts of the country we particularly enjoyed. Like me, she loves warm weather and the ocean. While on her travels, she goes to the beach as often as she can, and “plays”. Sometimes people stare but she tries not to let that stop her from simply enjoying each moment. She says she has enjoyed the solitude but, like me, she texts her family often in the evening. 

Here are a few of her traveling experiences.

She worked for 2-3 months in Florida, painting interior walls in a mansion. She even was able to hire a few workers, whom she paid with her own earnings. Living simply, this money then funded the next several months of travel. 

She worked for some summer months last year in Alaska. Even though it was the warm season, she found it somewhat depressing because it was often cloudy and rainy and she loves the sunshine. She really loved Oregon, but again, the coastal areas she prefers tend to be too cloudy and grey for too many days of the year. So, she continues to search for a possible landing place.

She sleeps in her car, often in a Walmart parking lot. Recently, she stayed there for 4 days. There was, of course, no cost to parking there overnight, and she found a place she could shower for free. She could have stayed longer, but felt she would just take root and she felt she needed to move on. 

Once, in a Walmart parking lot, in the middle of the night when she was asleep, a man tried to break into her car. She heard him checking out the doors and she sat up, very frightened and alarmed, and yelled out, “Hey, what are you doing?” Thankfully, he ran off. But, since then, she tends to ensure she is in her vehicle with all the doors locked and the windows open minimally. 

I’m grateful for the campgrounds. Now more than ever. I am grateful for those people who have helped me along the way.

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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

I left the next morning around 7:20  am and cycled into South Carolina. Shortly after crossing into South Carolina, I was back on Hwy 17, again with those nasty ribs. I learned that Carolinians, North AND South, don’t like to move out of their lanes on the highway, even when there is plenty of room. Maybe it is because the road is flat and fast and they get into a groove and really aren’t used to seeing cyclists on the highways. Luckily, it was “only” about 10 miles of that nasty road before I could get off and use city roads, as the Myrtle Beach area and surrounding burgs welcomed me. In Myrtle Beach itself, right along Ocean or Beach Blvd, the closest street to the ocean, there were bike lanes and the traffic was light and slow. It was so wonderful to be near the ocean again.

Myrtle Beach was just fun. If I were a college gal of 18-24, this would be a really enjoyable place to come for spring and summer break. It is also a perfect place for families. There were so many inexpensive miniature golf parks ($5/day!!!), arcades, restaurants, and carney rides, that it could keep kids entertained for days. I passed through the hotel district with the several story high hotels for the more financially endowed, and then through the adorable beachy motel areas too. I figured the prices would be well over $100 for the beach cottages, which looked like they were in great shape. The Hilton type hotels must run $200-300 per night, I figured. 

So, I made my way to the Myrtle Beach KOA, where I got my campsite at 35% off (10% because I’m a member, with another 25% off because the “off season” started this week). Still, at 35% off, my rate was $39, higher for a KOA campsite than any other KOA I had visited. Later that evening, while on the lookout for vittles, I saw that the motels right along the oceanfront had dropped prices to $39 for a side view room and $49 for ocean view. Some of the bigger hotels weren’t much higher!! I had spent the same amount on a campsite! LOL!!

So, if you want to visit Myrtle Beach for low, low cost, take a trip right after the first day of fall. The hotels are cheap and every price drops, but the weather is still fantastic. In fact, it won’t be as hot and humid as during the high volume midsummer. I passed so many stores that had sales for “$5 for Everything” or “Everything is 7 dollars!” All the entertainment businesses were competing for business, so I bet that even in the middle of the summer, you could enjoy a week there for a reasonable cost. 

The KOA spot was really nice, even if it was pricey. All the sites are spacious and under tall trees. The tent was smoothly laid over a bed of soft pine needles. I texted Angie; she was still in the area and joined me for another night camping. I spent the afternoon doing my exercises, showering, and then doing laundry. I traded out my predictable novel for a different one at the KOA game room. Maybe this one would capture my attention better. Even under the trees, far from the office, the internet signal was good and strong, so Angie and I listened to music on Pandora. 

Angie demonstrated her hula hoop skills. She was really good! She could do the typical waist and hip hula twirls, but also could get it rolling around arm, elbow, shoulder, and hand and could switch it from one arm to the other without missing a beat, even behind her back! I really liked it when she stood on one foot and whirled that hoop around her knee, while she grasped the foot of the other leg behind her, arching her back and still hula-ing that hoop around her knee. I snapped a few photos, but they didn’t really catch what I was seeing.

We went out that night for pizza and bought the one topping pizza on sale, leaving enough leftovers for the next day for both of us. We went to our beds, after having a wonderful day. 
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Wednesday, September 25th, 2013

Another early morning when it was light enough for safe travel, and HD and I were on our way, seeking out MacDonalds coffee on Highway 17. Today was a relatively short day to Georgetown, but I wasn’t feeling that great anyway, so I was glad to stop.  While the mileage was only about 40 miles, most of them were on that contrary road, although the bridges over the Waccamaw and Sampit Rivers were great. I was feeling a little headachey, which was quite rare, so I checked into the Baymont Inn for a great off season price, with the assistant manager giving me additional discounts for coming in on Henry David. He has been able to get me a few good deals, lemme tell ya! For the challenges he provides via width and weight, he has more than made up for it by helping me make a few friends and he has given me thousands of smiles from strangers. I hope that he has inspired a few folks to follow their dreams.

Ain’t nothing like it. 

I sat in the motel and did a lot of writing. In the evening, it rained for quite awhile, so I was glad to have the nice room in which I stayed dry. Even HD was inside. Right behind my room, right outside the window, was another marsh, connecting to the rivers I had crossed earlier that day. I watched an episode or two of “Once Upon A Time” on my MacBook via Netflix, and settled into a big bed with really fluffy pillows. My headache passed.

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Thursday, September 26th, 2013

The next morning, I was up and HD was packed by 7. I took advantage of the continental breakfast, and set out on the road. It was over 65 miles to the KOA in Ladson. This was a very rural day, with small towns spread far apart as I traveled through wooded areas. I did have a few miles of a protected bike path outside of Georgetown through the marsh areas. I was beginning to see more Spanish moss and the weather was more humid here. I liked it!

About 8 miles from Jamestown, near the Francis Marion National Forest, I popped the chain off the front derailleur, and it jammed betweed the sprocket and the derailleur bar. It took a few minutes of greasy work to get it back on, but then my front derailleur would no longer shift gears. It would run on the smallest front sprocket and so I used the rear gears to make the trike “rideable”. Still, I knew I needed to find a bike shop. I looked at the derailleur but couldn’t see anything very clearly. Better find someone with better eyesight and a lot more know-how! All the towns---all two of them, that is---between my location and Ladson, my destination, were pretty small. Even Ladson was a relatively rural town. 

So, I cycled on to the nearest town on my route, Jamestown, and stood up with iPhone in hand to see if I should go to Charleston instead. While I peered at the iPhone screen, a young man stopped and asked where I was traveling. When I told him briefly about the trip, he asked what were a few of the remarkable experiences. I told him about the deer and how curious they are and how I come upon them before they move away. I told him I had met some of the most hospitable people in the world. He asked where I was heading and I explained that I was heading for Ladson but maybe I should go to Charleston, because of the gear shift issue. He advised Charleston for sure, and hey, did I want a ride? He would be driving right next to a bike shop. He had an SUV and was pulling a metal trailer. 

This was almost too funny. I had talked to Peter the night before (I believe I have mentioned him once or twice), and told him that I sometimes feels as if I travel in a bubble of protection. The weather has been great, people have been friendly, deals fall into my lap, and, when I need help, people just show up. They just show up. I haven’t had to flag anyone down. They just show up and offer. 

This kind young man, Barclay, said he was on his way home with this trailer, which belonged to his parents-in-law, and he would be passing right by the bike shop where he bought his own road bike. I said, “Sure!”  I purchased rope at the convenient store and Barclay tied HD down and off we went to Mount Pleasant, which is just north of Charleston. 

When riding down that road, I was so grateful for the assistance. The road was busy, narrow, and had those dag-gum ribs! Barclay called it a death trap, for cars too!  I’m hoping to reach better highways soon. Riding those ribs shakes my brain in its cage.

So, Barclay. He has a degree in business, I believe, and, with a former college friend, they recently purchased a medical software business. He had spent that very morning at a hospital in Charleston, consulting with them on how to better manage their medical and business information. Barclay is a father of 3 small children: ages 4, 2, and 2 months. His wife takes care of the little ones during the day, but it is very taxing and he tries to help as much as he can while still running this new business. His stress level is high, but he feels that he is young and able to handle it for now. He loves to ride his own road bike and tries to get in at least a few hours each week.  He was full of questions and he impressed me as a very bright young man. His wife called, wondering what was taking him so long to get home. He sent her a message back, explaining his morning events and the additional act of coming to the rescue of a lady on a trike. 

Thank you, Barclay, for taking the time to help me out!!

John, at the Bike Shoppe in Mt Pleasant, took care of HD right away. He checked the twist shifter and its cable and then the cable wires at the derailleur. With his keen eyesight, he found that the thin cable wire had slipped off its housing and he was able to  slide it back on. Even with my reading glasses, I had a hard time seeing it, but I eventually focused and saw what needed to be done the next time this happens.  I sure am learning a lot. I am very grateful for so many things---to HD and the shop folks who made him, for the fact that every snag has brought more blessings than hardships, for Barclay who got me through a tough spot, and John for seeing the cable and setting it to rights. He wouldn’t even let me pay him. He even advised I leave the trike there while I went next door to MacDonalds for coffee and to plan my spot to land for the night.  

I took him up on that suggestion and, after about an hour of searching and checking distances, costs, etc, I made a choice of Motel 6 on the southwest side of Charleston. It was about 15 more miles and I had 2 bridges to cross.  It was a good decision. The Charleston bridges were wonderful. The largest, northeastern bridge, had a huge, separate walk/bikeway. It was peopled with runners, walkers, and cyclists, who apparently enjoy the bridge for the exercise it provides in such a cool setting, overlooking the Charleston Bay.

Going through Charleston itself, a bit northwest of the downtown center, was great. Some of the streets were a bit rough, but I also had the great opportunity to cycle through a part of the college district. Young and beautiful and bright college students were out and about, heading home from class, on foot and cycle. The energy was contagious. Charleston is steeped in history and I was told of several Must See places to visit. Alas, not on this trip. 

After the second bridge, I followed my google bike map suggestions to find a bike path to the motel. But it was in terrible shape and then, after 1/4 mile on the rutted, dirt and sand path, it was closed for repair. That’s good---it needs some work. I made it to the Motel 6 around 5 pm. I chatted with the 2 folks behind the desk, both of whom were gorgeous and looked younger than their years. What is it about Charleston??? 

The parking lot and walkways of the Motel 6 were filled primarily with working men. In fact, I didn’t see a woman until the following morning, leaving with her husband. This left me fair game, or not so fair, for any man walking across the parking lot at the same time as I. Some curious, some drunk and flirtatious, but all very nice.  I demurely extricated my arm from the amiable drunk young man who does some pretty good impressions of famous people, and kept me entertained for several minutes. Still, I didn’t want “that much” company. 

The motel is very inexpensive and offers no frills, except 2 HBO channels on the small telly. But I needed cheap and I didn’t need the frills. Location and price were far more important. The motel is next to a MacDonalds (great coffee) and a Piggly Wiggly grocery store. About 1/2 mile away is the Citadel Mall. It is also just about the closest motel to the south end of Charleston, making my exit just a little quicker. Perfect.

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Thursday, September 27th, 2013

After a quiet night in my room with good HBO and even better telephone conversations, I awakened and couldn’t sleep past 6:30. Positioned right next to the junction of a freeway and hwy 17, the motel walls could not hold back the sound of the morning traffic. I’m used to getting up and packing HD by this time anyway. So, I got some coffee, did my exercises, communicated with all my children, wrote lists, updated my contact information, addressed postcards, organized my mess, and took a shower. After that, I took the short hike to the mall and spent the afternoon wandering around the stores, ate an incredible meal of stir fried veggies and fried rice at the mall food court (only $3.75 for a full plate!), and wrote more on this blog. Now, I’m back in my room, having doused my brain with more coffee from MacDonalds, and on the computer to write some more. Really, I have been writing, rewriting, and editing the blogs for the last 2 weeks. Tonight will be tidying up the blogs, posting them, and then getting ready for my exodus tomorrow. Will head out of Chucktown (local nickname for Charleston) and head for the KOA in Yemassee. I will stay there a few days and then: Hilton Head Island, Ho!!!

Have a good night, all you family and friends. I love each and every one of you. My horoscope from the Chucktown Coffee News said I feel most beautiful when bringing joy to those I love. I hope I can give back the joy that all of you have given me. My wrinkles could use a lift...




North Carolina Lovely


September 17th, 2013

An early exit from the Virginia Beach KOA was executed---attempting to beat the work and school traffic. Getting out of VB was a challenge as there was no room for HD’s back end, which meant a lot of work on sidewalks, dirt, grass, and gravel. Once out of the city, I took country roads almost all the way to Elizabeth City. I crossed the Virginia/North Carolina border at 11 am and stopped at a border store to buy coffee and send iPhone photos to a few family members and friends to commemorate the crossing. It was truly a beautiful day and I enjoyed the country roads. A few wrong turns were suggested from the iPhone maps--”wrong” because they were dirt roads. I had to do some rerouting, but still made good time. 

No significant conversations occurred this day, which is sometimes a pleasant change in which I can just be quiet and enjoy the air. However, I did meet a retired gent about 10 miles from Elizabeth City on a recumbent trike. He was riding a “tadpole”, while mine is a “delta”. The tadpole has 2 wheels in front and the delta has the double wheels at the rear. He was out getting his mail from the PO down the street. He loves to cycle his recumbent and sometimes drives to Elizabeth City, with his trike loaded in the truck. Then he rides the pretty streets of that larger, picturesque town. He loves the outdoors and used to ride a bicycle. Now, he uses the recumbent trike and balance is no longer a concern.

I stayed at the Days Inn in a modest room. It was a quiet, lovely day, once out of the Virginia Beach traffic.
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September 18th, 2013

Google maps for cycling and for walking both suggested I travel almost exclusively on Hwy 17. However, the traffic was thick and it wasn’t always a tricycle friendly road through North Carolina, so I mapped my own route through neighborhoods and country roads. This turned out to be a great ride, even if I did have to consult the iPhone GPS regularly. I found alternate routes for this and that river crossing and, when I made it to Hertford, I called the NC-DOT about the Chowan River vs Albemarle Sound crossing. The lady from the NC-DOT referred me to the local police of the Plymouth, NC area. So, I called the police and spoke to Sargeant Forbes, who sounded like a helpful young man, proud of his official position. He told me he would find a way to help me. It was illegal for me to cross the Chowan River on Hwy 17, as it was a 70 mph zone at that point. However, it was legal to cross the 4 mile bridge over the Albemarle Sound. Yet, it was not considered safe. I had spent a restless evening the previous night, knowing that crossing this large waterway was on the agenda for today. I had looked up satellite pics of both crossings. The hwy 17 crossing was shorter but considered “controlled access”. Technically, that means no bikes. However, let it be known that, when no other option is open, it is legal to use these roads. Perhaps not advisable, however!  Well, the long bridge over the Albemarle Sound, a few miles south of the hwy 17 bridge, was an old bridge with short cement walls and no shoulders and basically just a 2 lane road with traffic going in opposite directions. I had watched a YouTube video of a group of cyclists who rode that bridge, taking up both lanes. I knew it was “bike approved”. 

So, Sargeant Forbes told me to phone him back when I was at the Albemarle Sound bridge, which is also called the Haughton Rd bridge and includes local hwys 32 and 94. 
When I reached the mouth of the bridge, I saw that, midway across the sound, the bridge held a steep grade. A cyclist sign by the bridge warned of low walls and high crosswinds.

Yikes!

I called Sargeant Forbes and he said he would see if any of his men were available and he would call me back.  If they were unavailable, I said I would just go ahead and cross it. This was ok with him as far as legality was concerned, but I think he was maybe a bit concerned. Right after we closed our conversation, a state trooper showed up, getting ready to close my lane of the bridge road so that a few slow moving truck-trailers with wide, heavy loads could cross. Perfect timing! He advised that I wait a few minutes so he could contact the truck drivers and then he would come back to close the lane. While the road was closed to other vehicles, I could cross at the same time! He took off across the bridge and, within a few minutes, Sargeant Forbes called me back to tell me there was a State Trooper getting ready to block traffic anyway. I laughed and told him I had met the trooper already and we were all on the same page. So, I was able to cross that low, narrow, long bridge over the Albemarle Sound in perfect peace. 

Timing is everything. So is a well placed blessing. I understand a few folks are out there praying. Thank you. Sometimes I feel as if I’m in a protected bubble, surrounded by a thin, invisible force field. 

After crossing the Haughton Rd Bridge, I cycled several more miles through quiet country highways and roads to Plymouth, NC. I used back roads in Plymouth itself but had to circle round to Hwy 64, as all the motels were along that major byway. I found a reasonably priced room at the Port O Plymouth Inn, which was next to a MacDonalds and the Piggly Wiggly. Perfect location.

The best part? Meeting Anna at the front desk of the Port O Plymouth Inn. A lively, vivacious lady with the coolest braided hair, which included a spiraled braid at the right forehead and balanced with a corresponding spiral in the back. She saw Henry David and had many questions. Her mother was sitting next to her and within seconds we were laughing and swapping stories. Anna and her mom have lived here all their lives. Anna’s mom said that her passion is her family and doing good things for others. Anna loves her children and meeting people on the job. 

Anna is connected in that town. She asked when I planned to leave in the morning as she knew the staff at the local newspaper. I told her 8 am, although I’ve actually been getting out a bit earlier than that, now that the days are getting shorter. I checked into my room, which was spacious and comfy and clean.  Anna called my room within 15 minutes, asking if I would be willing to stay just a few extra minutes in the morning because the newspaper editor/reporter was coming to interview me. Anna had also called the mayor (!) who sent his greetings and expressed regret that he had commitments and could not come meet me. 

Basically, Anna rolled out the red carpet. What a lady!

I walked to the Piggly Wiggly and picked up food to make dinner in my room, and settled in for a quiet night. In the morning, I went to the breakfast nook at the inn and met Jimmy, the morning clerk. The reporter, Bethany, had just called to see if I was around. Jimmy called her back and we did a phone interview. Apparently, she enjoyed the interview so much that she showed up about 15 minutes later to take pictures! Anna and her mom came by as well and we got a photo opp with everyone.

Before I left, Jimmy got on the trike and had his photo taken. He was a real sweetheart. He is 70 years old and says he never wants to fully retire. He enjoys meeting people when he is working at the motel and this gets him up out of the house, which helps keep him physically and emotionally healthy. 

We shared hugs and warm good byes and I left the Port O Plymouth Inn, feeling as if my heart had been touched by these wonderful people.

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Thursday, September 19, 2013

HD and I cycled off from Plymouth around 8:30, going through city streets to avoid Hwy 64 where we could, and making it out of Plymouth about 9 am. We followed mostly quiet roads the rest of the day, with intermittent mileage on major highways. The farms have been harvesting the corn now. Here in this part of North Carolina, I saw a lot of cotton and peanut fields. I started seeing signs for boiled peanuts, which is a local southern favorite. I saw fields of a plant that looks like corn, with the long blades like corn stalks. But the plant is shorter and the grainhead was thicker, not like a corn tassle. This is grain sorghum, which grows in tropical and subtropical climates. I guess I’m not in the north anymore!

On this day, Henry David and I cycled to Kinston. This is a fairly large city with an exuberant population. I received catcalls, whistles, waves, shoutings of good cheer and blessings, and smiles throughout the city. As vibrant and friendly as the people may be, the town looks somewhat ragged and poverty striken. I found a room at the Super 8. Well, it really wasn’t the Super 8, although the sign was still up. Apparently, it changed hands a few years ago, and the lady at the desk told me the motel was closing in 3 weeks. Not even a buyer. Right on the highway, but conveniently located to the grocery store and basic chain fast food joints, this little motel had definitely seen better days. But it did offer a pauper’s continental breakfast in the morning. Since I am traveling cheap, this was fine with me!

But, there was one issue that really saddened me about this Super 8 that wasn’t really a Super 8. I don’t even know its real name. That’s not the sad part.

There were over a dozen feral kitties in the parking lot in different stages of poor health. Quiet, hungy cats, limping, moving slowly, looking hopefully up to passersby. Kittens with oozing eyes and noses. Some too weak to even move out of the driveway. My heart absolutely broke. They would be incredibly easy to catch, neuter, and disperse to homes. But, in this poor town, apparently there were no takers for the dozens of homeless cats in the streets. 

I was advised to put the trike in my room or I would have a feline hitchhiker in the morning. 

It was enough to make me cry. 

In the morning, I cycled away from that sad motel with the sadder cats, who watched me leave as they remained behind, sick and hungry.

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Friday, September 20, 2013

For lack of options, I cycled to Jacksonville, NC on all highways, primarily on US-258/NC-24. These were actually fine roads, perhaps because they were quiet highways with enough of a shoulder that I could listen to my iPod and groove along. I went to the Cabin Creek Campground a bit to the south of Jacksonville, NC. It was along the highway and next to a good convenient store. The tent area was located way at the far, back corner of the campground. I was the only tenter there, which was really pleasant. I was surrounded by tall pines and deciduous trees--perhaps elms? Each two sites shared a covered pavilion with 2 picnic benches. In the middle of the tent area, next to the two tiny latrines, was another pavilion with electricity available. I wrote a bit on my computer while hooked to the electricity. The poor cell phone signal and lack of internet that far from the campground office limited my ability to listen to Pandora or check maps or contact family. But it was peaceful and even nice to be so isolated for an evening. It meant curling up in the tent to read. And an early morning. It was a big day tomorrow, as I had plans to meet my longtime friend Carola in Wilmington. I could hardly sleep! Well, some rain in the middle of the night meant moving my tent under the pavilion closest to my tent, so that was a bit of an interruption.  That, and the fact that all that afternoon and way into the night I could hear the wargames from the nearby training center: rapid-fire artillery like machine gun fire, explosions, and pops. I had learned that the coast from Virginia to South Carolina were thick with military installations. It was becoming familiar to see fighter jets zoom overhead in tandem. It was a bit unsettling--these signs of military prowess. I’m proud of our military, yet saddened by the fact that we humans are so uncivilized. Ah well. 

I still enjoyed the Cabin Creek Campground, with its tall trees and shade, explosions notwithstanding.

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Saturday, September 21st, 2013

HD and I got on the road at first light, zipping first to the convenient store next door for coffee. It was a misty morning that turned into rain, so it was a wet ride all the way to Wilmington. However, nothing could dampen my mood because I was going to meet Carola! I met Carola around 1991. We worked together at Alamogordo Physical Therapy, rapidly developing a strong friendship. Because I had moved around so much as a child, I had not made any strong female friendships since I left a few best friends behind in my youth as we moved. While the transcience of my youth made it difficult to create strong friendships, it made me very adaptable as well as comfortable in my own company. These are two necessary qualities for a long term solitary journey such as this one that I am on. I am grateful for my history.

But, for today, I was seeing Carola! I had not seen her for years and, since about 1992 when she moved away, I had seen her only three times. But, she is a true friend and will always be so. 

So, rain and wind only spurring me on, I zoomed into Wilmington and checked into the Comfort Inn by about 2:30 pm. I did my exercises and showered well before she arrived at 4:30. From then on, bliss. Simple bliss.

Sometimes it is not what you do together, but just that you ARE together. Does that make any sense?

Carola said that a sign of a true friend is that, after many years apart, once together again, you can pick up where you left off as if time stood still. The depth remains. The love is as strong as ever. This is our friendship.

Carola works with seniors and specializes in dementia. She has her own business, providing personal care for the elderly. It is called CarolaCares. That’s about right! While she has several clients, she spends Monday through Friday taking care of a lovely woman with end stage Alzheimers. We have talked extensively about what she has learned about treating people with this horrible affliction. She has learned how to make their last months and days comfortable, peaceful, and free of fear. She is a patient woman, full of empathy and generosity. Carola grew up in post-WWII Germany and her experiences have shaped her into a woman who appreciates the value of life and how important it is to live a life with dignity. Having lived without the daily comforts you and I may take for granted, she lives very simply but appreciates beauty and the richness of life. 

Carola brought a picnic basket and a cooler full of homemade salad, cheese, crackers, hummus, and fruit. She even brought a bottle of champagne to celebrate our friendship. When she arrived in the late afternoon, we chatted like a couple of cackling hens until we crashed around 10 pm. The next day, she drove me to see the Fort Fisher ferry I would be taking to exit Wilmington. Then we went to the beach and walked in the sand and continued our conversations. There was a lot of family happenings to discuss and we also talked “shop”; she never ceases to show me something new and precious. 

Carola left in the late afternoon so she could return to work the next morning. What a gift to see her on this incredible journey. 

Their Own Chapter


September 14, 2013

Red letter day, red letter day. One of my favorite experiences started today. 
It was a lovely night at the Tall Pines Harbor Campground the night before and I awakened early to pack up and head out. My camping neighbors in an RV came by while I was saddling up and we had a nice chat about travel. They live nearby but love to go camping, even if it’s only a 10 minute drive from their home. They had come to this campground with their good friends and had availed themselves of the opportunity to enjoy their friends’ deluxe camping vehicle. The woman loves horses and travel. (Was her name Marilyn?) It is now one week later that I am writing this journal entry and my memory is failing me. Anyway, this lovely lady brought me coffee!! This was quite welcome as there would be no caffeine opps for several miles. 

It was a lovely morning on the side roads for a few miles before reaching local hwy 316, which eventually joined that beautiful Hwy 13. The trees were thick and luscious and the local farmers waved as I cycled by. I went through the small town of Bloxom, I believe, and stopped at a little store that appeared to be a local favorite of the good ole boys club. This little club has members across the entire country, although they don’t know each other. They continue to solve the problems of the world while griping about the current issues at hand. I love these guys, while I usually disagree with the feasibility of their proferred solutions! I drank the great coffee and met Diane and Duck. Diane manages the store and Duck advises all his neighbors. 

Diane loves to meet people, so she enjoys her job. She also takes care of Duck’s brother, who recently had a stroke. I was unsure if Duck’s brother was Diane’s husband or if maybe Duck himself was married to Diane. Inquiring minds want to know.

Duck received his nickname because he is a master woodcarver of duck and goose decoys. Some of the wooden fowl are used for hunting purposes and some of them are entered into local artshows. He enjoys finding ways to make his carvings look more realistic and explained how he paints the backs of the glass eyes on his geese decoys. This turns the eyes black, while preserving the reflective, glassy shine of actual goose orbs. These two folks are well liked by their neighbors, as the people popping into the  humble shop gave them happy and teasing greetings.

My plan for the day was to go to Cherrystone Family Campground, which I heard was quite nice. I was almost to Exmore, VA (yes, now in Virginia!!), when I saw a little roadside stand and wheeled over. I purchased the last 3, very ripe peaches, with plans to eat them for dinner. They were soft and just right for “now”. 

About 1/4 mile further, I was approaching an empty corner lot off Hwy 13 where two ladies in a car had pulled over. A pretty, vivacious blonde with long, lean coltish legs, who was close to my own age, leapt out of the car and waved exuberantly. She called out, asking me to pull over. So I did.

This was Brenda, traveling with her good friend Sandy (whom Brenda affectionately calls Pinky). They had been on the road to pick up bug sprays and had passed me earlier. Brenda pointed me out to Sandy and asked if she should stop and see what I was doing if I were still on the road when they were heading back home. Sandy agreed to the plan and it was a a done deal.

Brenda was friendly, assertive, and open. I liked her immediately. She explained that they had seen me earlier and she wanted to know where I was going. I asked, Do you want to know where I am going today, or in general?” 

She wanted to know where I started and where I was going to finish. She had noted the loaded down trike and my dark tan and knew that this was no “day ride”. I explained the rectangular route of the trip around the U.S. and she then asked me to come stay the night at her house. Her husband, Russ, was a long distance cyclist and hiker and they had a habit of snagging cyclists off the road to stay with them and share stories. This was an offer I could not refuse---except for the fact that I needed to get on the road early in the morning to get to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel Authority. I had called the tunnel offices earlier this week and the lady on the phone said they would find someone to drive me across.  

Brenda responded, “No problem! We have a pickup and we will drive you across the bridge ourselves, if you like!”

Did I like? Hella yeah, I liked!

So, I went on to Exmore, stopped at a MacDonalds to make phone calls to ensure the bike shop was ready for me on Monday morning, and then headed for Eastville, Virginia to connect with my new friends.

Once in the tiny town of Eastville, I found a lone market, hoping to find fresh produce to offer my hosts. No luck, but I did pick up a bottle of white wine. This is clam and crustacean country and I figured white wine would be a good accompaniment. There were only 2 types, so I picked the “better” one, as if I know anything about wine. I assume the price tells you which one is best. Either way, we weren’t talking wine for connoisseurs in this little shop. Then I followed Brenda’s written directions to Smith’s Beach, which is a long street of neighbors whose homes hug the Chesapeake Bay and connecting coves. Russ later explained that their home is considered in “the Gulf”. 

When I turned the last curve of Smith’s Beach Road, Sandy and her friends saw me first, called out, and I pulled in, about 2 houses from Brenda and Russ’ home. These friends were sitting out behind the house, watching the water in the Gulf, drinking wine and beer, and telling big stories. Sandy brought me a glass of red wine and I had the opportunity to meet the neighbors.

Sandy is married to Patrick, or Pat. The next door neighbors are Mary and Jack, or Jackie. I also met Jimmy, the lone wolf of the group. 

These neighbors are trying to race toward retirement to enjoy the good life at Smith’s Beach. Sandy is a full time CPA and husband Pat works for TransAm. Mary is an educator and has taught high school history for several years although now enjoys being the very active high school librarian. Her husband Jackie is a retired shop teacher and now makes money renovating houses. Jimmy runs an events company--renting out equipment for big events like tents, chairs, etc. They all traipse back to Virginia or North Carolina on Sunday evening so that Mary, Patrick, and Sandy can go back to work. (Ooops. I am not supposed to use that word; they refer to it as “that nasty W word”.)  Mary, Sandy, and Patrick hope to reach full retirement soon, so that they can stay in their vacation homes all year round. They head back to Smith’s Beach for most weekends and share a “mi casa es su casa” philosophy.  
This end of the neighborhood family includes Brenda and Russ, Mary and Jackie, Sandy and Patrick, and Jimmy. Assorted dogs are included in the melee as well. Kitties do what kitties do---generally stay with their families in their own houses. 

Every Saturday night that the gang is at Smith’s Beach means potluck time: each person brings whatever they have in the kitchen, usually to Mary’s house, and they share a meal. This often concludes with alchohol and a pit fire in the back yard while they watch the sun set over the water. 

Mary and Jackie renovate homes in their spare time and Mary has a passion for thrift stores and auctions. She had us all laughing as she described her antics at local estate auctions. At some point, the auctioneer decided she was a good asset to any sale, as Mary knows what is valuable and thus drives up the price of items that may have sold for next to nothing. She told of a pocketbook she was bidding on, and the “heinous ---” who had the audacity to bid against her. Mary stopped bidding at $600 and her opponent picked it up for $625. Mary said she could turn around and sell it for $10,000. 

Now, that is SOME pocketbook!  

There is an entire base of knowledge and research among collectors of art and valuables. Mary keeps her smartphone with her and checks resale value of the items she wants ahead of time, so she knows what she really wants to buy. Mary wins some and loses some, but, according to Sandy, it is very fun to attend any kind of sale or auction with her. The local auctioneer likes her so much that every once in a while, he throws her a good deal, shouting “sold” on her first bid, before anyone gets a chance to big against her. I asked if he could actually do that, wasn’t it against some sort of auctioneer’s code or rulebook? Mary said, “He’s the auctioneer. He can do whatever the ---- he wants!”

Jimmy has had a variety of jobs and had me laughing about his taxi driver days in the Bronx. (So THAT’S where his accent is from, I thought!). He said he drove in the days before the separating grille between front and back seats and he feared for his life or his innocence a few times. Due to the lack of separation from the driver and the customer, he heard arguments, lover’s tiffs, and heartwarming conversations as well. He is a crackerjack driver, anyway! Sandy insisted that the Smith’s Beach “family” deserves their own chapter in this journal. Here it is, Sandy!!


Their stories kept me laughing through 2 glasses of wine. Sandy kept me supplied from her well stocked outdoor bar she designed. I stood up, determined to go find Brenda. Sandy joined me and in 20 seconds, we were 2 doors down and here came Brenda up the drive, looking for me and wondering why I was taking so long to get to her house from Exmore. Sandy delivered me to Brenda and headed back to the party.

After sharing warm hello hugs, Brenda showed me around her place. It was simply wonderful. Brenda is an artist, and good lord, what an artist. She said she completes a painting in 1 to 3 hours. If it takes more than 3 hours, it is taking too much time, she said. Paintings were stacked all over the front room, with a current painting of a crane on the easel. Frames and frame parts leaned against walls, in preparation for final mounting of her artwork. She has an almost romantic impressionist style with long and soft brush strokes yet enough detail to make the painting quite realistic. She definitely has an artist’s eye and her work is so “ALIVE”! She does animal or pet portraits as a side commission job, but I truly enjoyed seeing what comes out of her own head. If she paints a woman from her own imagination, she always gives her a name, which makes her seem like a real woman. I felt myself warming up to these paintings as if they represented lovely, almost mysterious friends. Kind of like Brenda herself. 

If she is commissioned to do a portrait of a person, she gets to know them a little first, to get a feel for personality. Then it comes out in the painting itself. She has never taken any art lessons and is 100% self taught. She is what I consider an artist in her very soul. 

She showed me the narrow, long room that holds her framing equipment. She was particularly pleased with this purchase, as it allows her to provide a complete painting, framed and all, at low cost and high speed. She paints in acrylics. When she is bored, she paints murals on walls. This was evidenced in Mary and Jackie’s home, whose walls were decorated with ocean and beach scenes of water, birds, and trees. Brenda often sells in galleries and works part time at the Red Queen Gallery in Onancock, VA, on the mainland, selling her artwork there as well. Her work sells almost as soon as it hits the market, as her prices are reasonable and her art is exceptional. Look for the work of BB Clark, if you go there. 

Her home is covered in windows facing the water and a lovely wooden deck with a small pier or landing reaches lovingly over the water in their quiet little cove. She has 3 kayaks and goes out in the coves and inlets almost every day. She introduced me to Jessie, her lovely black lab mix. This is a lovely canine who is Brenda’s very shadow. What a smart dog, too. Every toy has a name and Brenda demonstrated Jessie’s intelligence with several commands and orders and even conversations, to which Jessie responded with perfection.

Then I met Russ Sturgis, Brenda’s husband. A slender man with a history of ultra cycling and hiking trips, Russ was soft spoken but very friendly. The two of them made me feel immediately at home in their presence. I had the choice of the guest room (the cover was even turned down invitingly!) or the “screen house”. This is a screened porch, perched over the water in a small, quiet water inlet. A couch/settee with big cushions, a few end tables, adventure magazines, and a small fridge stocked with beer were the welcoming furnishings in this delightful room. Russ described how the guys all got together and built the house one weekend, with Russ’ designs and Jackie’s building experience. In fact, the men in this neighborhood family appear to truly enjoy building and doing projects together. Then they drink beer, congratulate each other, and relax in the evenings. It was all a very heartwarming picture. 

Brenda and Russ had an outdoor shower added to their home so that they could wash off or shower after playing in the ocean water for the day. This little shower, outfitted with both solar and gas heated water options, was so popular that Sandy had one added to her beach home as well. I availed myself of the shower with the door at neck height, so I could shower and watch the sunset at the same time. It was a sensual experience.

We all got together at Mary’s house for the Saturday night potluck and it was truly wonderful. Mary showed me the murals Brenda had painted and I had the opportunity to meet more of their other neighbors, ArolAnn and Cary Gibson. They are from Illinois, my own birth place, but they come to Smith’s Beach for the summers.

After dinner, we went out to the fire pit as the sun set. Patrick figured it was time for a boat ride, so we went out into the Chesapeake Bay for a little spin in his Cutty’s Ark as the sky turned orange and lavender. It was dark when we returned and in minutes, here came Brenda with her kayak, ready to show us a special surprise.

She hopped on the little pier and told us to touch the water. I laid prone on the deck and trailed my fingers in the water. 

The ripples sparkled blue lights. 

Mary and I gasped and Mary knelt down, grabbing a reed and trailing its frayed end in the water. It looked like a wand sprinkling blue lights through the water. 

“I always wanted to be a fairy princess!” Mary exclaimed.

Brenda, Mary, and I played with the water lights, ooh-ing and ahh-ing, until Sandy came up to investigate. She was so taken aback that for the rest of the night she kept saying, “I don’t understand. What IS this?”

What we were observing is the bioluminescence of the plankton; this is caused by a chemical reaction of a series of oxidation reactions affecting luciferins within the plankton bodies. It is not necessarily a common scene and Brenda said she has lived her 10 years before observing it for the first time the night before. She had been awakened by Jessie, her dog, and had decided to go out for a kayak ride, with Jessie paddling along beside her in the water. The blue lights were everywhere and the plankton were apparently so thick that the water turned blue. Tiny fish jumped in the water all around, turning into blue lights from the bioluminescence affecting the water. After our sunset boat road on the “Ark”, Brenda had checked the water for the phenomenon as the daylight disappeared. While not as thick as the night before, the bioluminescence was present, so she invited us out for kayak rides to play in the blue light. 

Man oh man, was I excited! I ran over to Brenda’s house with the other ladies and we hopped into the kayaks and paddled around the cove, gently disturbing the surface of the water with the oars to watch the fairy lights sparkle. 

It was a magical evening.

As we turned the kayaks back to Brenda’s house, she asked me to stay the next day with her and Russ. I was not scheduled to drop off HD until Monday morning, so tomorrow’s Sunday ride was going to involve getting a ride across the bridge and going to the KOA Kampground in Virginia Beach, then taking HD to the shop the next morning. Brenda, who said that one of her bosses once declared that she could sell ice to an Eskimo, worked on me to convince me to stay an extra day. After the magic of the evening, I longed for the opportunity to spend a bit more time with these wonderful folks. I agreed and I couldn’t tell who was happier, myself or Brenda.

After the kayak rides, we all went “home” and I cuddled up with Brenda’s fleece comforter in the screen house. While it was very comfortable, I hardly slept at all as I was so excited. I listened to the frogs call to each other, the fish jumping in the quiet cove, and the herons’ teradactyl-like screeches throughout the night. Every now and then I sat up to look through the screen walls to see if the blue lights were visible. But they were not, and in the early morning hours I slept, awakening around 7 am as the sun rose over the bay. 

The morning started with Brenda bringing me coffee like an honored guest. We watched the sunlight play over the water, played fetch with Jessie, then took that wonderful canine out to “the meadow” for more exercise. A few neighbors came through the meadow, including “Suzy Q” (Brenda has a nickname for everyone. I am now “Little Jo”!).

Suzy Q is a nurse by occupation and grew up in this very neighborhood. Her dad taught her how to fish and go clamming and how to set out crab pots when she was little. She had just started her vacation that weekend and she was very excited for the chance to relax from her daily stresses. She asked Brenda if she would have any time that week to show her how to get around the coves and inlets as Suzy Q had just purchased a small boat with a motor. Here was the amazing thing---Suzy grew up here on the beach and had spent hundreds of hours on the water in boats. But she never piloted one herself as her dad was always captain and she never took the helm.

Brenda immediately responded, “Sure! In fact, let’s go kayaking today!”

Suzy Q looked apprehensive and started to give reasons why she couldn’t, but Brenda, in her insistent but convincing way, talked her into it and a few hours later, Suzy showed up at Brenda’s house. 

The three of us launched into the kayaks, with Brenda giving instructions and Suzy Q picking up the oar skills rapidly. All through the next few hours on the water, Suzy kept exclaming, “Wow! Look at me! I’m in a kayak!” It was so endearing and wonderful and delightful. We all took pleasure in this “native” of the bay learning how to paddle a kayak for the first time.

Brenda showed us where to paddle to avoid sandbars just below the water surface. We meandered around the cove into little inlets, stopped and shared snacks and laughter. Brenda showed us one narrow bar where she was “trapped” by a daddy sea otter, who kept circling her boat and barking or growling at her, as she had come too close to his little family. She was frightened by the angry papa, but finally managed to exit the protected area. She pointed out several species of herons, cranes, egrets, and other sea birds. Suzy Q gained confidence and planned to return with her own boat and a fishing pole. 

When we returned from the boat ride, Sandy and the neighbors were busy cleaning out a mobile home and its garage. Apparently, Sandy’s sister had just purchased the home a few days earlier, with plans to retire there in a few years. The house was ridden with fleas and the ladies had placed flea bombs in the home the day before. The bombs did damage to the fleas, but had not killed them all. So, risking life and limb from nasty flea bites, Sandy and Mary had been cleaning out the house, while the guys (Patrick, Jackie, Jimmy, and Russ) had worked on the garage. More flea bombs were to be set off later that day. 

It was another example of how these neighbors work together. Brenda and I offered assistance, but by that time, they were done and ready to clean up and head back to the mainland for that dreaded “W” word, scheduled for Monday morning. 

After Russ finished helping the guys, he and Brenda and I sat around and drank wine and ate clams. Brenda helps an elderly neighbor lady take care of clam beds, located right next to Brenda’s house, and in return, can take a 100 clam bag when she likes.  Suzy Q reappeared with fresh shrimp and Brenda added pasta with a light cheese sauce to round out the meal. 

Russ warmed up to his stories of hiking the Appalachian Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail. He shared stories of his cycling tours around the country, usually with a friend. On a few of his later hiking and cycling adventures, Brenda joined him at some point in the truck, ensuring that Russ ate something and remained healthy. He is a bit on the slender side! Of course, Brenda is a slim athlete in her own right, so perhaps the two of them need to remind each other to eat from time to time!

Russ loved the hiking treks best, as he said it was really all about meeting people on the trails. These avid hikers become family in seconds, helping and sharing and advising. On the Appalachian Trail, there are small towns which generally have a single bar or pub, frequented by groups of hikers, where the hilarity increases as the beer and wine flows. The Pacific Crest Trail is a bit more rugged and lonely. Russ was hiking alone for awhile on the Pacific Crest Trail. He said it had been a few days since he had food and he came upon a lone ranch. He stumbled into the yard as the elderly owners drove up in their truck. Russ asked if they had anything he could eat. Seeing the thin, lone hiker, they immediately offered him a meal, then asked him if he knew anything about turbines, as their water pump with a turbine engine, had serious problems and they couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

Well, as it turns out, Russ had retired from the navy after 25-30 years working with...turbine engines! In 15 minutes, he fixed the problem and they were so delighted, they kept him busy, and fed, for the next 3 days, as he earned his keep fixing and repairing this and that around the ranch. Finally, he had to get back to the trail to finish his journey, but agreed to return the next year. 

Thus began a several year returning job for both Russ and Brenda. This ranch was actually like a “dude ranch”. People would pay to stay at the ranch for a few weeks, experiencing the ranching life and taking long horse rides up into the higher elevation for camping experiences. Russ helped around the ranch, keeping machinery working and doing serious maintenance and repair. Brenda helped lead horse expeditions and cooking meals for 25 people, 3 times a day. Russ and Brenda became very close to their employers until these senior ranchers could no longer keep the ranch going, due to their advancing age. 

After several hours of conversation, eating clams and pasta and drinking wine, we then looked through photo albums of Russ’ journeys. His eyes sparkled as he reminisced, and one could see he longed for another long hiking trip. However, he had undergone a serious cardiac surgery about 8 months ago and had 2 hip operations. The day before, he had ridden into Salisbury with his son on their Harleys and now had plans to ride the motorcycles on a 1500 mile round trip into the midwest. Traveling was in his blood and he simply had to keep going.

As for Brenda, she can’t keep still either. When she isn’t painting, working at the gallery, playing fetch with Jessie, or out on the water in her kayak, she finds time to help a friend of hers who runs a catering business. Her friend does the cooking and Brenda usually serves the food, keeping conversation lively and making everyone feel pampered. She does that well; I can vouch for that!

I settled back into the screen house for the night, with the alarm set for 5:45 as we needed to be on the road by 7 am. 
________________________________
Monday morning, September 16th, 2013

I was up and ready to pack HD into the pickup by 6:30. Brenda brought coffee once again and Russ and I loaded HD into the truck. We were on the road shortly after 7 am. We crossed the Chesapeake Bay via the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel. Here are some excerpts about the bridge from its own website:

“Crossing over and under open waters where the Chesapeake Bay meets the Atlantic Ocean, the Bridge-Tunnel provides a direct link between Southeastern Virginia and the Delmarva Peninsula (Delaware plus the Eastern Shore counties in Maryland and Virginia), and cuts 95 miles from the journey between Virginia Beach and points north of Wilmington, Delaware.”
The bridge opened in 1964 and was named one of the 7 engineering wonders of the modern world. In 1995, a parallel bridge was constructed, allowing 4 lanes of traffic to cross. Part of the bridge becomes a tunnel, diving underwater, which allows boats and ships to pass overhead. Buses cross the bridge and have bicycle racks so the cyclists can cross the bridge. There are private driving services where you can hire someone for $25 to drive your vehicle across, if you have “bridge anxiety”. The driving services are now a booming business. 
Once across the bridge to the mainland, we went to Fat Frogs Bike Shop in Virginia Beach. I had been instructed to be there at 9 am when they open, but we were there by 8:30. Doug, the mechanic with whom I had been making arrangements, was there and opened the door. After discussing HD’s needs, I left my trusted cycle in Doug’s capable hands and left with Russ. We drove to the home of his good friend “Al”, who lived 1 block from the Virginia Beach boardwalk. We walked to their favorite cafe, where Al was mercilessly teased by the staff who know him quite well.

Al did have some great stories to tell! He is a massage therapist and an undeclared hypnotist. He has taught several women how to rollerblade and often keeps every women’s size of rollerblades in his house or vehicle so he can be ready at a moment’s notice to teach an interested person of the female persuasion. He teaches men too. But bring your own skates!

He is like The Handyman, or maybe The FixIt Man---he can fix your bike, your house, your tense shoulders, or your psyche. He works part time for a massage therapy business and employs a variety of techniques to help ease your muscle tension. We talked about disease and healing and agree that the mental and emotional health of the client are the key factors to recovery. With willing clients, he uses a combination of trigger points and hypnotism to cure migraine headaches. He told a fascinating story of a lady that finds so much benefit from the hypnotism that she sometimes calls him on the phone for a “quickie” hypnotism session. Then, under the suggestion of hypnosis, she diagnoses other people’s illnesses and gives them accurate and effective advice---suggesting they also check with their medical provider for confirmation. It is as if the hypnosis opens you to skills you never knew you had. Al said that, under hypnosis, you will never do anything you “can’t” or “wouldn’t” do. It just removes your lack of confidence or your fears so you can move forward. Some people are more open to suggestion and these will find the most benefit from hypnosis. I love these stories!

The brunch finished all too soon and Al had to leave to go help a friend. Russ and I walked back to his pickup truck and he dropped me off at the Virginia Beach KOA. I did my exercises and my laundry and then walked to the bike shop around 5 pm to pick up HD. He was working in fine order after Doug’s ministrations at the Fat Frogs Bike Shop. 
All in all, it was a wonderful few days and I met some incredible people with hearts as big as the All Outdoors. 

I will never forget them.