West Across The Panhandle

Friday, October 11th, 2013

Today, I began the serious quest for the west. First goal: the Florida Panhandle...

After the late night in Baldwin, I slept in, ate too much for breakfast in the motel lobby, and headed out about 9 am. The roads remained wonderful and the sun continued to shine brightly. But, no problem, this time I was prepared, with a tad bit of sunscreen on my face and shoulders. Ergo, my facial color remained the same all day.

I did appear to have an alternating headwind/crosswind for a good part of the day, so I was as tired at 46 miles as I usually am at 55-60 miles. In Lake City, Florida, my day’s destination, the men were feeling their Friday oats, cashing checks at the grocery store, buying beer, driving the streets, and making wolf whistles at the women. It was Friday fun in Lake City! I went on to the Lake City Campground, about 5 miles north of town. It is a sweet spot with little ponds with fountains in the center of the pools, which effectively kept the water moving and fairly fresh. After doing my standing exercises, I showered and ate apples and cheese and crackers for dinner. 

It seems a bit funny but fresh, crisp apples and warm, sharp cheddar cheese while camping beats any fancy dinner in a nice restaurant. I don’t know if it’s the fresh air, the knowledge that it was a very inexpensive meal, or hunger that makes it so doggone good.

Well, enough for now. I’m having a hard time connecting to the internet here, so I guess it will be a book reading night!

Saturday, Oct 12, 2013. 

It was a fitful night---I’ve been going to bed way too late so I was looking forward to an early night in my tent. After writing a bit on the blog notes and then reading a novel for about 30 minutes, I shut off the battery light and tucked myself into the sleeping bag. I awakened every hour thereafter and got up when it was just barely turning light outside, around 6:20 am. HD and I headed back for Lake City to catch hwy 90 and head west again. This town turned out to be a lot larger than I had imagined and it actually sprawled for several miles.

It was a beautiful day for riding. I am still seeing these incredibly tall trees, similar to traveling through the Carolinas and Georgia. I have seen more clearcut forests here, but many are replanted with seedling pine trees. Logging trucks are in heavy supply around here. 

A met a local gent yesterday who pulled his pickup over on the highway to find out what the heck I was doing on a lonely Florida road, by myself, all packed up and looking like I had been traveling a distance. He scowled when I mentioned seeing the clearcut forests. But I followed it by saying I was glad to see they were replanting in efforts at good forest management. This was a man from Sanderson who worked 40 years for the railroad. Now, he is retired but still gets up at 4 am every day. He didn’t want his name mentioned but I told him I just had to share this next little tidbit. Every morning when he gets up he goes outside. If it is still and quiet, he pulls out his boat and goes fishing. If it is “blowin’”, then he grabs his rifle, goes into the forests, and goes hunting---or deer scouting, when it isn’t deer season yet. The town of Sanderson is a depressed town with little industry and most people are unemployed. So, this railroad retiree gives almost all of his fish and game away. He says he feeds about 10 families who tell him that they would be hungry if it weren’t for his sharing his fish and game. Then I understood why he didn’t like the clearcutting---perhaps it affected the local game population, thus making it harder for him to provide food for his town. 

It’s all a life cycle. A disturbed ecosystem can cause changes we humans often don’t consider.

We chatted about his life and his hunting and he had a great sense of humor. He pushed his hat back on his head when I answered questions about my “little adventure”. He replied, “Well, Gol-durn, I think I’ve seen about everything! And yer doin’ this all by yerself? Are you one of them lez-beans?”

I answered, no, I had been married and had 3 children. 

“Well, are ye married now?”

“No, but I do have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does he think of this trip yer on?”

“He is in full support of it.”

“Well, Gol-durn, I think I’ve seen everything now!”

We wished each other safety and good days and made our separate ways.

-----------------------------

These last few days have been days of contemplation and thought. Because we are all made of the same thing, from the rat to the human to the mountain to the star, we are all connected energetically. Our thoughts are a potent source of energy and through them, we can create. Or destroy. Sages from all religions and throughout the millenia have repeatedly tried to teach us less enlightened ones that we only need to believe and we can move mountains or create anything, including heaven on earth, or inside us. That is an awful lot of power, don’t you think?

So, why are we so afraid to create our best realities?

___________________________

HD and I made it to the Super 8 on the southern edge of Madison by around 5:30. I don’t know about HD, but I sure was tired. I hauled my gear to the 2nd floor room and then proceeded to do my exercises. That revived the legs a little but they are aching again while I sit here eating dinner and typing this blog. 

Maybe it’s time for a walk...

Sunday, October 14th, 2013

After a light breakfast in the lobby, I packed up HD and away we went toward Tallahassee. The road and weather conditions continued to be perfect--and no wind to speak of.  However, the way was hilly, so we had our work cut out for us. HD hummed along but fatigue paid me a visit around 2 pm and hung around till arrival at the Seminole Best Western around 5 pm. I checked into the motel at the east end of Tallahassee, did my core workout, talked to my friend Truth on the phone, picked up groceries, showered, and started the laundry.

Then I listened to the digitized version of a violin concerto, fresh off the press and the wonderful composition software, from one Dr. Peter Fischer. It was incredible: melodic, inspiring, moving. I almost cried, and I don’t often do that with music without words. Lyrics can make me cry, but music alone tends to transport me elsewhere, where wonder may lie, but tears remain behind. The beauty can be almost painful, but then I allow my heart to be transported. Like opening a door and sailing through it, rather than sitting there crying...

Is that what Wonderland is like: a place of inspiration and imagination and joy and challenge, but where tears have no real place?

_____________

Here in Florida, I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to see the swamps. In the Carolinas, Georgia, and parts of Florida, I’ve seen the marshes--brackish water made of salt water and fresh water. In the swamp, it is standing, fresh water, very “still”. It is as if the water table is just under the surface and wherever the land dips just a few feet, the water bubbles up and covers the ground. I thought the swamps were next to the ocean, but this area is “inland”, in the panhandle. It seems so odd to see huge oak and cypress trees, standing in a few feet of water and appearing to grow just fine. I would’ve expected them to rot, but they don’t. The surface of the water may be clear or may be covered in an algae-like growth, or even water plants. It is all so fascinating. I keep hoping to see another alligator, but no luck so far. Or maybe that IS lucky!!

Monday, October 14th, 2013. 

Today is a writing day. And maybe talk to family day. I met the housekeeper who may be the housekeeping manager. Her name is Tiesha. She is a beautiful woman in her mid twenties with 3 kids. I tend to keep the room door open when I am in a motel room during daylight hours. I told her I didn’t need the room cleaned but she did her job magnificently by talking me into taking coffee refills for the coffee maker. She then asked me questions about HD and the trip and that started a sweet conversation.  Tiesha’s dream is to become an RN. She plans to start classes at the community college this January, get her associate’s degree, and then transfer to a major university. 

I asked her about her choice of careers. She was partially raised by her grandmother, as she and her mom lived in her grandmother’s home. She grew up, learning about the physical challenges of the aging population and basically fell in love with helping the elderly. She enjoys her job at the motel because she likes doing little, and big, things to help others. She has a huge heart and a winning smile. But becoming a nurse would give her a career that could provide for her family while filling her need to help others live a longer, healthier life. 

I spent most of the day writing the blogs about Hilton Head and then traveling south to the 4th corner. 

Tuesday, October 15th, 2013

Today the goal was Blountstown. It took over an hour to cross through Tallahassee, primarily on the sidewalks, until I rounded the corner of the Florida State University and the bike lanes began. Tallahassee was quite hilly and really quite a lovely city. It has done a good job of maintaining its natural beauty in the midst of urban sprawl. 

Today we had some clouds and some sprinkles from the sky. To get to Blountstown, I cycled on hwy-----on a very long “bridge”. This bridge crosses the -----river. But the actual river is fairly narrow. Most of the bridge, about 4 miles of it, crosses the ------

It was a little harrowing, as it was a fairly narrow bridge, but the traffic was light.

There were only 2 lodging places in the Blountstown areas, both locally owned and in a bit of rundown conditions. I chose the “Airport Motel”, although there was not an airport of which I was aware. The motel was about 1.5 miles from town.

A little Indian lady ran the desk operations and we chatted for a bit. She recently had double knee joint replacements and takes a few walks each day. She is at the motel almost all of the time, but does not have a car, otherwise, she said, she would drive me the mile into town to the grocery store! I said that HD could handle the job to town, no worries there! She was very solicitous, hoping to ensure I was ok with the room and felt safe. She came to my room and turned on the AC and warned me to close the bathroom window at night to keep out the gnats. 

What the room lacked in paint and cleanliness, the lady running the joint made up for in kindness and friendliness. She deserves a raise. And a helper.

I cycled into town to grab some groceries. I noticed a few banners spanning the main street, advertising “Goat Day”, which was fast approaching.

I was tickled. Too much time on my own, perhaps, but I see funny things all day long. Or at least, they are funny to me. A few towns back, I saw a sign at a middle school advertising $1 to kiss a pig. And now, Goat Day. I thought, “Wow, the people in this area don’t just like their animals, they LOVE their animals”. 

Take it where you will...

After getting back to the motel and eating chips, hummus, and carrots, I settled in for the night.

Wednesday, October 16th, 2013

Exiting Blountstown took a bit longer than expected. I had to get some morning coffee at McDonalds. Then, I kept seeing little things to photograph--such as a lovely little park. And a sign in front of the pawn shop, which read:

“We buy Guns, Gold, and Apple Products”

That made me smile so big I had to stop and get up close to get a picture. This summed up the mentality of most of America, I thought. In descending order, what so many people value: 

1.   guns to protect what we own--our stuff
2.   gold, representing money---to buy our stuff
3.   apple products---technological stuff worth its weight in gold and which we may want to use a gun to protect!

So, I pulled around and took a photo. All of a sudden, a tall, blue-eyed man appeared about 6 ft away and said, “Wait, I want to take a picture of you taking a picture of my sign!”

This was Walter, the owner of the pawn shop. He was the highlight of the day, maybe even the week. 

Walter is a tall, good looking man from Switzerland. When he around 20, he and some friends came to the USA to vacation and travel. That’s when he met and fell in love with Becky, while partying along the Florida coast. I found myself swept away in the love story, imagining this handsome blue-eyed manly man falling madly in love with this petite American with wide-set hazel green eyes and the prettiest smile you have ever seen.  What a pair. 

Because he was traveling with friends, they had to part after just a few days of meeting. But, they wrote each other and eventually he returned and the rest is history.

They are now in their late 50’s, have 2 grown children, and run the pawn shop that Becky’s dad used to own. They lived in Switzerland for 10 years and then moved to Blountstown, Becky’s hometown, where Becky’s father needed help with the shop. Her dad was not exactly thrilled with her daughter’s choice and apparently there was some friction over the years. But Walter was not going anywhere---he had made his choice with Becky and no meanspirited man was going to push him out. In fact, the townspeople also gave this “foreigner” a hard time and didn’t trust him for several years. Eventually, they allowed themselves the opportunity to get to know him and have accepted him as a friend. 

Over the years, the pawn shop outlasted other pawnbrokers in the area and now it is about the only one standing for several miles. It does quite a bit of business and they have been able to do a good deal of traveling as well as put their kids through college. 

Walter’s passions are travel and food. He loves to travel all over the world and taste foods and wines from each area. He and his son took a recent trip together to Sonoma, to wine country. He and his wife will be taking a cruise next month. He has maintained a good weight, so I told him he didn’t look like food was his passion. He laughed and said it takes quite a bit of work: he exercises regularly and watches his intake so he can indulge when he travels. He and Becky like to go out to dinner on the weekends, usually traveling out of town.

We talked about gun issues. It was a fascinating conversation. In Switzerland, the populace is armed and ready for self-defense of their country at a moment’s notice. All young people serve for 2-3 years; men are trained in military arts and each young man is provided with a machine gun, which they take home. All men, between 18 and 50, have a machine gun, issued by the Swiss government. Every year, they return to training centers for a 3 week refresher course, so to speak, where they go through their paces and learn new military tactics. The country has a very organized plan for self-defence and can mobilize the entire country within minutes. While they do not play offense, in other words, they do not attack any other sovereign nation, they are ready to protect themselves. 

Walter said, imagine attacking an apartment complex with 20 families and 2 men per family. That is 40 machine guns. Therefore, other countries leave them alone. And keep their money in Swiss banks, he said, with a twinkle in his eyes. In fact, Walter said, Hitler left Switzerland alone and the Nazis had a rhyming ditty they sang about the country. Roughly translated, the ditty said that they would leave Switzerland alone until they were heading back home. In other words, Switzerland would be the last to be attacked and then, only if they had taken all the other countries first. 

It is small. And mighty.

So, Walter has about 100 guns. He and his wife and his two young adult children all carry concealed weapons. He laughed and said, “So, when we go on vacation all together, we have 4 guns with us. We are pretty safe, I think!”

One of the things that earned him respect, as well as a reputation in Blountstown occurred early on. He and Becky were in bed at night and Becky heard someone at the door and became frightened. Walter grabbed a magnum 44 and went to the door, opened it, and put it in the face of one very scared customer from earlier that day. The astounded customer stuttered and asked a question, which Walter answered with a “you can come back to the shop during working hours tomorrow and ask me that question”. The customer went home rather quickly, following instructions to come back to the shop the next day.  The word went out about town like wildfire: “if you want to talk business with Walter or Becky, do NOT go to their house---go to the shop ONLY, and ONLY during working hours”.

He has never shot anyone.

The Swiss philosophy is really quite interesting. Train the entire country in self-defense. Call all the men in the country back to training centers for 3 weeks every year. Keep all guns in working order. Devise and update a good self-defense activation plan. Men over 50 return their guns to the government and no longer need to go to the annual training. Most importantly: do not attack other countries. But be ready if they attack you. 

This may only work for a small country. As for the USA, we are so busy playing offense and calling it defense that this model wouldn’t work for us. A pity...

At the tail end of our conversation, Becky drove up and I had the pleasure of meeting this vital woman. What a beauty, and with her soft southern drawl, she was a potent mixture of the feisty, yet classy southern belle.

Walter and Becky---a force to reckon with in this little town called Blountstown.

After the goodbyes were expressed, I continued on the trek to Panama City. I had Gulf Coast on my agenda. I turned south on hwy---- and zipped through a few towns to get to the ocean again. I loved cycling through all the trees, but I missed the ocean and smell of saltwater and fish! I had never been to the Gulf, and that was another draw. on the northeast edge of Panama City, I pulled out the iPhone, found a good deal on a room, and made it to the west end of town, about 1/3 mile from the bridge that crosses ----to Panama City Beach. After hauling my gear up the stairs and locking HD outside, I took a walk to the bridge and halfway up it, shooting photos of my first glimpse of the Gulf of Mexico. I passed by the college with young people filtering out, by the park with people jogging the sidewalks, and up the bridge with walkers, joggers, and cyclists. I returned to my room just after dark and settled in. 

It was a great day--a great week! I had made it to the Gulf!

Run For The Corner

Monday and Tuesday, September 7th and 8th, 2013

It rained in the early morning hours, as threats of Tropical Storm Karen were dissipating. It was warm and sultry, with a light wind. After coffee and packing up Henry David, I hugged Jack and Mary and set out for the road again. The next two days were patched with rain but were actually pretty mild with weather. Roads were favorable and the Georgia police kept their eyes on me. I had never seen so many police officers in my life. But I got waves and one policeman even took photos while I cycled by. I spent Monday night in Richmond Hill and Tuesday at the Microtel motel in north Brunswick, Georgia. Tired and aching, I was in a fast track to the 4th corner of my trip--on to Jacksonville, Florida.

Wednesday, Oct 9th, 2013.

After a small continental breakfast at Microtel, where all secrets are miniscule and of no consequence, I headed out on hwy 25 in Brunswick, Georgia. Once HD and I connected to the combined highway of 17 and 25, we rode on for a few more miles and then crossed the Brunswick River.  When the road turned west after crossing the river, it was rough riding for about 5-7 miles. Small road signs listed this as a double bike approved highway--10 west and 95 south. This must be some sort of numbering system for the bike roads. So, there was a nice little shoulder, just the right size for HD. He would have been very happy, but the DOT laid those nasty ribs all the way across the entire shoulder section. Therefore, when the traffic approached from behind, HD and I braved the brain rattling shoulder. When the traffic passed, we went into the road, while I kept my eyes peeled onto the rearview mirror. 

After turning south at Waverly, it was a pretty nice road for the rest of the day. The weather was cloudy and cool most of the day until the mid afternoon, when patchy clouds allowed the sun to peek through, warming up the air. After Brunswick, the largest town was Woodbine, with a whopping population of 1300. I stopped at the post office in that venerable town, hoping to pick up postcard stamps. I was out of luck, as the service desk was closed. When I exited the post office door, I was greeted with a hug by Joe Jackson, longterm resident of Woodbine. 

Joe had just driven up to the PO to post a letter and saw Henry David parked under the eaves at the same time as I came out of the door. He put trike and rider together and that warranted a warm hello and a hug from this sweet, friendly man. He then told me bits and pieces of his own special story.

Joe’s dad owned both the local grocery store and theater in town and Joe, himself, ran the movie projector at the theater from age 9 to 18. Dad also serviced a paper route and a milk route. The work ethic was very strong in the family and Joe helped his dad in all the various jobs until he graduated from high school and was sent off to Viet Nam. He spent a few decades in the military, got a bachelors degree in a field similar to political science, and returned home to Woodbine. He has been married twice and has a few kids. He spent 5 years in Jerusalem teaching the 6th grade to Palestinian Muslims at “The Jerusalem School”. This school was owned and managed by the Assemblies of God Missions. Joe said that, when he agreed to take the job, he was given 3 rules by which he must abide, or he would be in danger and, basically, on his own.

1. Never say anything about Mohammed.
2. Never proseletyze any student about Christianity.
3. Never tell a student he or she must accept Jesus as their Saviour or they would go to hell.

Joe said he followed the rules and had a meaningful time in Jerusalem. He said that he would go to west Jerusalem to post his mail and for some of his personal shopping needs.  He said the Israelis could spot an American a mile away, so he was often questioned why he was there. When he told them he taught at “the Jerusalem School”, they knew that meant he was on the east side working with the Muslim children. The Israelis would warn him “to be careful, don’t you know they will kill you?” The Palestinians would warm him the same thing about the Jewish Israelis, “be careful, don’t you know they will kill you?”

Needless to say, he remained a peaceful teacher and no one killed him.

Joe told me about his senior year in high school. I had asked him about his support of the local football team as he was wearing a baseball cap with an embroidered football and emblazoned with “Camden Wildcats” across the front. Yes, indeed, Joe had played football when there were only 500 students in the school and it was located right there in Woodbine. In his senior year, their team, a B team, went to the state finals---the first time ever. They won the regional championship on November 15, 1963. Later that week, they played their first state playoff game and lost. Then, a few days later, that terrible bloody day came when President John Fitzgerald Kennedy was assasinated, November 22, 1963. Joe said that, as a high school senior, this was a tragic event for him. Joe says he believes that JFK was assassinated, in part, because the President wanted to get out of Viet Nam. Well, Joe was sent there after graduation, within a year of the assassination.

Now Joe lives back in Woodbine. He appears to know everyone in town and his hugs are well known to the locals. He cares deeply for his neighbors and has enough love to spare for the cyclists that pass through his town.  May God bless him.

Although Joe invited me to stop by his house for a rest and a cool drink, I thanked him and proceeded to Kingsland. The day was waning and I still had about 12 miles to go and a place to find. The campground was 10 miles east of Kingsland and I figured I had cycled enough for the day. 

When HD and I approached Kingsland, where you will be greeted with “royal hospitality” (so says the welcome sign), I saw warning signs that the hwy 17 bridge was under repair and traffic would be detoured to the I-95 bridge. I stopped just past the main intersection in the downtown area and pulled over to look at my lodging options on the iPhone. The study would include comparing available motel rooms with the hotel coupon book that I had picked up at a store the day before. As soon as I pulled over, the owner of a little, downtown antique shop came outside to talk to me. This was Eberhart, who goes by “Ebbie”. He warned me about the bridge and said the next highway crossing was about 25 miles away. 

Bummer.

We discussed my dilemma. I would call the Florida DOT in the morning to see if the bridge was fully out or if they would let me pass.  If not, the only other viable option would be to cross the interstate bridge.  Or drive the 25 miles out of the way--that was not an option in my mind. Ebbie offered to drive me over the river on the interstate bridge around 10 am, when he opens his shop. 

Then he invited me into his store.

Ebbie is an avid cyclist. He is from Germany but moved here about 45 years ago, when he was a young man. He came to visit his sister (was she in Tennessee?) and planned to stay one year. He came with a green card, quickly got a job, and decided to stick around, eventually landing in Kingsland. He used to compete in cycling races and showed me about 2 dozen cycles in his shop, which were all leaning against each other in various little rooms of his labyrinthine shop. He has not parted with any of them and I have no idea if they are even for sale.

This little store was like an oddity shop. There were prices on some things, but there were so many things in this shop that he collected over the years that I had no idea if he was really trying to sell any of it. 

His hobby is building furniture. There were benches and chairs and tables that he had made, shoved next to antique furniture of all kinds. There were thingamajigs and thingamabobs and doohickies and bric-a-brac under layers of dust. This was his personal haven. He had so much stuff in his home that the city managers asked him if he wanted to open up a shop downtown in one of the many empty storefronts. So, he did. And he is now the official character in town.

I loved Ebbie. We talked economy, world issues, politics, history, and America. He showed me all around his shop. He uses a hand lathe and carving tools to make his furniture. He and his wife and daughter all paint. His own paintings were often quite humorous. He copies pictures in books and magazines and sometimes struggles with proportions. For example, he tried to paint a baby face. Instead, it looked like a pig lady and he has named it “The Schweinn”. Hahaha!  There was a face of a lady with a shocked expression on her face and her hair sticking out in all directions. He said the name of that painting was “Oh Shit!”.  I pointed to another painting of a man’s face and he said that was “The Shit Meister”, the husband of the shocked lady.

Then he showed me old humorous political buttons. He had me laughing, this one did. 

I pulled myself away after several halfhearted attempts to leave Ebbie and his little curiosity shop. He kept saying, “Oh, but you need to see this first”. He was so engaging that I happily complied. But then, it was getting later and I still didn’t have a place to stay for the night, so I thanked him for his helpful offer and took my leave. 

HD and I headed east on hwy 40, toward the interstate, where all the lodging was located. There were a good half dozen or more motels at the Kinglsland intersection of hwy 40 and I-95.  I had a coupon for a room for $39 for a sweet little motel. It was the Magnolia Inn---I scored a clean motel room with a big tv, internet, and located close to Dunkin Donuts coffee and several restaurants. After a hot shower and a few texts to family, I walked across the street to Ruby Tuesdays and got the salad bar at 10% off---another perk of staying at the Magnolia Inn.

This is a town that I think may have seen some better days but is holding on valiantly, hoping the business will pick up. However, it is only about 35 miles from Jacksonville, FL. I suppose tourists may choose the lower rates here instead of staying in Jacksonville. But how will they know how inexpensive it is here? 

Oh yeah. The internet. Dumb question.

Tomorrow, HD and I cross into Florida. 

Georgia: beautiful trees, rivers, marshes, lakes, peaches. Friendly people. 

I think this country is full of them!

Thursday, October 10th.

I called the Flordia DOT at 8 am and got sent here and there on the phone without resolution. Therefore, I packed up Henry David and we hit the interstate as close to St Mary’s River as we could get. We crossed the river and into Florida without an issue, even though we passed several police cars parked at the truck weighing and inspection stations. We took the first turnoff to hwy 17 and then sailed happily along the wide Florida version of this highway. 

The Florida sun was out in good form, having chased away Karen’s clouds and leaving a sapphire blue sky. I even got a little sunburned today! I was a bit surprised because my tan is fairly dark and I thought I was passed the burning stage. It was very mild, but I pulled out the sunscreen for tomorrow.

I stopped at the Minit Mart near Yulee for a little break. I met the friendly owner who was working the cash register and cheerfully reminding his regular customers that the fresh sandwiches were just displayed and were hot and ready. He and his wife moved to this rural area from Brunswick about 10 years ago to open this little store. There wasn’t any other nearby competition so he had the local business on this lonely stretch of hwy 17.  He had seen me pull up on HD and he told me that, 2 years ago, he met a family on a long cycling trek. 

This is where it gets interesting. This family consisted of husband and wife and 3 daughters, between the ages of 6 and 10. They were riding a single bicycle---with 5 seats! They cycled from Florida to Baja California to Alaska and it took a full year. 

Can you imagine the memories this trip must have created for this family? Talk about adventure---going camping for a weekend with the kiddies is an adventure. Trekking several thousand miles on a single bicycle with THREE kids--now that is EPIC!

Well, after sharing my amazement at this fantastic feat, I got back on the road on my trike. This seemed like an easy ride compared to what this family must have faced! Shut up aching thighs and get on with it!!

I cycled into Jacksonville in the afternoon and stopped at the intersection of hwy 17 and hwy 90. This was my “tag” corner. Hwy 90 meant I would be turning west---this was the fourth corner of this trip. Now I would be heading toward “home”.

TAG!!!

While I stood there and picked up my iphone to see if I wanted to travel further or find a place in jacksonville, a thin young man came literally bouncing around the corner, waving two blackened wood drumsticks in his hands and singing about how lucky he was to find these two drumsticks in perfect condition. He saw me as he bounded around the palm trees and I smiled at him, commenting that yes, indeed, he had found a treasure. 

He waved the sticks in the air and did a bit of fancy twirling before sliding them into his pockets. I asked him if he knew how to play the drums. He answered that he certainly could. So, of course, I then requested a demonstration. He looked around at the half dozen palm trees gracing the corner spot, with a brick wall backdrop. So, he danced around the trees, tapping fun rhythms on the trees and then on the brick wall and then reaching behind his back to continue his artful percussions, like an acrobatic musician. I laughed and clapped and then he asked a few questions about where I was headed. He has been homeless for a few weeks and wanders the streets till about 4 am, where he finds a spot near the Wells Fargo Bank downtown to crash in a quiet corner. The security guard lets him stay there. The young man told me he knows every hole in Jacksonhole, including the dark holes where you don’t want to go. I was welcome to join him for the night and a quick rest under the eaves of the bank. I thanked him and wished him well and told him I needed to keep traveling.

After cycling to the west part of Jacksonville, I pulled into a Burger King for a drink and serious consideration of my next move. I decided to go ahead and go to Baldwin, adding another 20 miles to the day. I pulled into the motel close to 6 pm and had a quiet evening in a clean room. After doing my exercises and eating bananas with peanut butter and trail mix for dinner, I watched a single episode of the new series Once Upon A Time in Wonderland. I’ve been watching Netflix reruns of the series Once Upon A Time. Apparently, it was such a big success, they added a series based on Alice in Wonderland. It was ok---I liked the original series better.

After communicating with loved ones, I crashed around midnight.

I had tagged my corner. Now it was time to go home...

Magical Land

Saturday and Sunday, September 28th-29th, 2013

Today, HD and I arrived at the Point South KOA in Point South, SC in the mid afternoon. I stopped at the McDonalds for coffee and directions and met an interested and delightful group of young people working at the land of the golden arches. They were full of questions about Henry David and one of the staff, a young lady named Teonai, came out to talk to me personally. Petite and lovely, Teonai shyly asked if she could ask a few more questions about the trek itself. After sharing my dream come true, she told me that her own dream is to go to college and study criminal justice. She is hoping to start this December/January and would like to go into forensic detective work. There is absolutely no reason why she could not follow her dreams.  She is registered to begin.

She only needs to do it.

Just Do It. 

Nike had that one right, anyway.

She gave me the greatest blessing I can imagine by telling me that she was  glad she had taken the time to overcome her fears to come to talk to me because she felt encouraged to follow her dreams and make them happen. If there is anything that I could give any one I meet on this trip, it is just that. If you have a dream, make it happen. Don’t give up, if that is what you REALLY want. 

Sometimes, we have a treasure chest full of dreams that remain locked up in that bejeweled little box: never released, never considered a possibility. If one is happy with the life they have created and have decided that their current situation is much better than the dreams they imagined in their youth, then that is a wealth beyond value. But, if on the other hand, they look at the little box and wish they could take out a dream and breathe it into existence, then maybe some deep breathing exercises are in order. 

I enjoyed my stay at Point South KOA. I took a day to write, take walks, and look for alligators!  About a mile from the campground is The Frampton Plantation, the remnants of an old plantation. The home has been converted to a museum of sorts. I must admit, I am having to rethink my idea of a plantation. This home was actually fairly small inside, with small sized rooms. Although it WAS light and airy, which I did imagine. Most of the home was closed off, so it may have been bigger than it looked from the inside. The grounds outside were nicely kept and a gazebo on the lawn held information posters about the civil war.  

Here in the Carolinas, the civil war is still a hot topic.  

On the grounds of the KOA campground, there is a small alligator preserve. It has a small still lake with a bit of forest surrounding it. Around the circumference of the lake is a grassy walking path. So, I donned my toe shoes (Vibram FiveFingers) and walked slowly and stealthily around the lake, looking for signs of alligator. Patience paid off about 45 minutes later when I saw two big eyes in the water, watching me on the shore. I looked through my camera lens but you couldn’t see it with my low res camera. After a minute or so, the gator’s head dipped down into the water in a “dive”, while his large scaly back skimmed above the surface of the water, confirming my suspicion that this was, indeed, my first live alligator seen in the wild. 

Awesome!

The Point South KOA has wine tasting on Saturday nights, but I skipped the wine tasting and went for the pizza instead. It fed me for two days. During the day, the campground office has a decent coffee shop. I worked on some writing while drinking coffee on Sunday. It was a gorgeous day, very relaxing, with good internet and alligator safari and Frampton Plantation visit. Very, very nice. 

Now. On to Hilton Head! Wahoo.

Monday, September 30th, 2013.

What a lovely day. I was sad to leave Point South KOA, but excited to go to Hilton Head Island. I cycled the frontage road of I-95 to Ridgeland. That was very nice. Fast and easy and the traffic was light enough that the narrow road served just fine. In Ridgeland, I took local highway shortcuts, again with narrow roads and some increasing traffic, but still perfectly lovely. 

When I hit 278 east of Bluffton and turned toward the Atlantic, the traffic got heavier but several miles of road construction actually provided me a lane all to myself. That’s the funny thing about construction zones. Sometimes, the crews have blocked off several miles of road but are actually only working on about 1/4 mile at a time. This gives a cyclist space to move outside of the traffic lane. It doesn’t always work like that, but today it did and I was quite pleased with the speed of travel. When I was spit back on the highway, the road was difficult in many places, forcing me to cycle on the grass. OK---so I had an easy time for a good chunk of the day, so I was willing to travel through some heavy resistance in sand and grass. 

When I approached the first bridge that starts the cross toward Hilton Head, I had to travel on a grassy ridge for maybe 1/2 mile, but the bridge itself had a nice wide bike/shoulder lane. I could see it up ahead. A man pulled over in a pickup truck, onto the grass ahead of me. He wanted to load up HD and drive me across. While I do accept rides when I need to cross a bridge or to get to a bike shop for repairs, this was a challenge I was willing, in fact, happily anticipating, to meet. So I thanked him profusely for his kindness, pointed out the wide bridge lanes ahead, and declined. 

Needless to say, I made it over the three major HH bridges and then the sky opened and the designated, beautifully paved, bike lanes began. Hilton Head Island is EXTREMELY bike friendly. Bike paths meander amongst the trees and greenery, circling and traversing the island. You can get just about anywhere on the Island and never leave the bike path except to enter the driveways of your desired destination. 

Hilton Head Island is like a leisure cyclist’s heaven: flat roads, bike paths, ocean, trees, flowers, gardens, parks, cool little stores and restaurants. 

Because it is “off season”, the room at Park Lane Inn was dirt cheap for the value. I paid the same as for a cheap Super 8, but 3 times the quality. My room had a kitchenette, two huge beds, a large flat screen tv, a couch, breakfast bar, and desk. A sliding glass door opened in the back of the room and I parked HD right in front of it, under the eaves on a little porch. There was a pool, fitness facility, and jacuzzi---I utilized the latter two! I even read a little bit by the pool, lying on my stomach and allowing the sun’s warmth to warm my bones and ease my hamstrings. The continental breakfast was extensive and they served complimentary Starbucks coffee around the clock. I could’ve moved in and stayed forever. But, even at the low rates, I wouldn’t have been able to actually afford living there. Unless I landed a fantastic PT job right there on the island. Sigh...

On my first night, I walked in the dark to the nearest grocery store, which was a health food market laid out with an eye for color and design. The prices were also a bit high. OK, a LOT high!! So, I picked up what I would need for that night and most of the next day, with a goal to find a cheaper store later. I stayed 4 nights there. So, on to a recap.

Tuesday, October 1st, 2013

Another lovely day in paradise. I walked to the beach, about 2.2 miles away, wandered through the Coligny Square shopping area, bought a great cup of joe at Java Joes, yearned to try out the french pastry at a french cafe (I was able to resist), and read by the pool. I did my exercises, used the eliptical at the fitness center, and watched a few episodes of Once Upon A Time on Netflix. This kind of full relaxation day has been few and far between in my life---as they are a bit rare in most people’s lives. I’m no different. Our lives are filled with industry and work. Even this cycling trip is no vacation. I get tired and worn and weak and yearn for time to just be. Even on my day off cycling every week, I spend it writing and taking care of business---about 12 hours of it every day, with just a few hours to take or walk and exercise while I watch a program or talk to family and friends. So, this Tuesday, October 1st, was an absolute treat. I labeled some photos for about 3 hours, but most of the day was to breathe and relax and allow my muscles some true recovery time.

Can I have more days like this?

Wednesday, October 2nd. 

Red letter day, red letter day! I went to the Piggly Wiggly grocery store, exercised, labeled photos, and tried to erase some of the signs of weather damage from my skin and hair. Then Peter arrived, around 7 pm.

Thursday, October 3rd. 

Wow, another day in Paradise. We spent the morning together, taking a long walk on the beach. 

There, we met Rodger, who often goes by “Rodge”.  He had two fishing poles and was casting one into the shallow waters to see what he might catch. Rodge comes with his wife to the island 4 months of the year. They stay in the same condo every year in October, and then again in December, January, and February, avoiding the northern winters. Rodge spends many of the Hilton Head Island days fishing. He doesn’t keep the fish, but practices catch and release. Usually, he snags rays and skates. While we chatted, a stingray took his bait and he pulled the little guy in. His wingspan was about 24 to 30 inches wide. Sleek and gray, with his stinger located about midway down his tail, he was carefully flipped over while Rodge removed the hook and tossed the critter back into the water. Rodge showed us his gaping mouth and assured us that the ray was unharmed by the hook. 

When we walked back along the beach, Rodge’s little protoge had arrived. This is a local boy who spends his time on the beach as was apparent from his deep tan, thin little surfer-to-be body, and long, straight, sunbleached hair. Rodge has become like a surrogate grandpa to this young boy, who meets up with him every day to “help” him fish. He was a shy youngster, but apparently loves Rodger like family. He caught a skate when we arrived, reeling him in with some skill. This boy was proud to identify this as a skate, different from the ray in his spotty colorations and patterns, although the size was quite similar to the ray we saw earlier. The stinger is up near the base of the tail. I would think it would be almost harder for the skate to use it effectively, but maybe it would be more stable located there. They practiced their catch and release technique and the pretty skate was back in the water in a flash. 

After our lovely walk on the beach with the low tide and expansive hard packed sand, we drove to Moss Creek, just on the other side of the HH bridge, where there is a gated community hidden amongst the marshes and trees, and bordering the river which separates the mainland from Hilton Head. There, we visited Peter’s sister and brother-in-law, Mary and Jack Walsh. More on these wonderful people shortly...

After a tour through their lovely home and walking around their property, with a small lagoon which extends into their back yard, we went to Bluffton to hook up with Peter’s parents, George and Virginia Fischer. 

George and Virginia live in “Sun City”. This is a retirement community, part of a chain of them, really. But this is no assisted living facility. It is a resort community where residents, ages 55 and up, live in style. The homes are actually priced fairly reasonably and are constructed with aging in mind. The sizes of the homes and rooms are manageable and they are handicapped accessible.  Sun City Hilton Head has a community club house, a few golf courses, tennis and other game courts, fitness facilities, a restaurant and theater---just about everything one needs to retire and have FUN. Just outside the gated community is a medical complex, shopping, and retaurants. So, the residents of Sun City Hilton Head never have to drive far to experience all the modern conveniences of living in a large city but in a neighborhood which feels almost rural, like a small town.

After visiting a few hours, Mary and Jack went home while Peter and I went to dinner with George and Virginia to Mi Tierrita. This was a pleasant Mexican food restaurant and I enjoyed their Mexican vegetarian fare. I even had them bring me the “real” salsa. I am a New Mexican, after all. The salsas here in the east have been quite tame. It had a little kick, but not like the jalapeno, chipotle, or habanero kick I get in the southwest. This was definitely southeast coast salsa, flavorful and tasty. 

So, a little bit about George and Virginia.

George worked over 40 years, mostly for the same company, as a technical design engineer. He designed hitches and connectors for trucks and trains. This required a solid knowledge of math and physics and the physical properties of materials. Some of his designs can still be seen today. I asked him if he ever worked on his designs at home with a drafting table. The answer: No. But he did have a drafting table at home for awhile, more for the cool look of a drafting table than for another place to work. George did a great job separating work from his family life. He enjoyed playing in the ocean with his kids, taking the family on little vacations, and being the solid strength of the family. 

George is a quiet man with a kicking sense of humor. He generally allows the conversation to flow around him, but when he opens his mouth, great things come out. He reminds me of my stepdad, Russ, in that fashion. He has a sweet smile and he is like the Rock of Gibraltar. In his 80’s, George has some orthopedic challenges which have left him with a significant limp, but he doesn’t let it stop him from doing what he seems to love most: taking care of his wife, Virginia. He is such a kind man and it was a joy to watch his proprietary care of his One-and-Only. He does the cooking and most of the driving now, and helps Virginia to get around. While Jack and Peter were at the ready to assist with Virginia’s mobility, it was clear that George was the one who had things under control. In fact, it helped Peter to help his mother more than it helped to relieve George of his favorite responsibility. It was a gift to his son to allow him to help Virginia get up a curb or walk the sidewalk or go into a restaurant. George hovered and really, this job as family caretaker has been his love for about 60 years, so it has helped define and shape him.

I absolutely love George. That is what Peter will be like in his 80’s. I am a very lucky woman.

Virginia is a joyous, generous woman who has a soul full of passion. What is not to love about that?? She is passionate about her children, politics, people, swimming, and, of course, George. She can talk about a number of subjects with knowledge. This little lady keeps the news on the telly and she can let you know what is happening in our country and I bet in most parts of the world. She adores her family and she smiled so brightly the entire time we spent together that I thought the sun might get a bit jealous. If she didn’t have osteoporosis, I would’ve wanted to squeeze her tightly! Her passions are primarily her family and her daily swimming. She gets up every morning and goes to the community pool and walks in the water for close to an hour. With 3 hip joint replacements and severe scoliosis and issues with lower extremity edema, this little woman has her challenges but she meets them with grace and a smile. She cut salt out of her diet many years ago in order to help control her blood pressure. Her diet is simple and healthy and she keeps on moving. She has more spunk than she has bone density, and this slows her down but she has the confidence that she can conquer the world. She has that indomitable spirit that I so admire. 

What a truly lovely couple. Together, helping each other throughout each day. One providing physical support, and the other providing emotional sustenance. Sigh...

Friday, October 4th, 2013

Today, we checked out of Park Lane and I was a bit saddened to leave this haven near the beach. Happy and lovely memories...

Peter drove to Mary and Jack’s house and I cycled HD back to the mainland and parked in their garage. After receiving an appropriate amount of attention and adulation, Henry David settled into his new home for few days, while Peter and I continued to play vacation. We drove around Moss Creek for a great tour and it was clear that Mary and Jack are quite happy with their home choice. They moved to the area about 10 years ago, living in a condo on Hilton Head Island while they looked for a more permanent residence. They purchased this home in Moss Creek, sold their condo, and settled into a vacation life. 

Well, not exactly. 

Jack works at home, 40-70 hours a week. Not exactly retirement hours. He sells technology to corporations. He is not the computer or software designer, but has such a solid base of knowledge about how it works that he can make the software that he sells do things it is not intended to do!  

Jack reminded me a bit of the sheriff in the scyfy series “Eureka”. This sheriff, conveniently named “Jack” Carter, lives in a community of brainiacs and solves crimes which are caused by science gone awry. For any comedy/science geek lover, this is a fun, fun show. I wish they still filmed it. Anyway, although Jack (Sheriff Jack Carter) is surrounded by all of these scientists with IQ scores off the damn chart, it is Jack who can figure out the pieces of the science that went wrong, causing mayhem.

Jack Walsh does not design the computer software, but he figures out what it can actually do and regularly amazes, and stresses out, the software geeks who couldn’t see the potential in their own creation. 

I love it!!!

So, the real Jack is a top seller. He would like to retire next year, but I think the company may offer him a part time deal so they don’t lose this irreplaceable man. Whether he decides it is time to just play at retirement or to combine work and play is the mystery to be solved. Judging by the travel schedule Mary has planned, he may have no choice but to play with family and the joys of Moss Creek and Hilton Head. Will he crave the mental challenge of work? I don’t know him enough to say, but I would guess that a full retirement may last a year. On the other hand, there is so much to do in this area, that he may be able to fill every minute, and love each one. 

Jack’s passion, besides Mary, is photography. He took a course in photography while living in Chicago, where he and Mary raised their family. He has a great camera with all the bells and rings and fancy lenses. He showed me photographs on his computer and he definitely has an eye for design and context. He has plenty of subject material in this part of the country. 

If he takes glamour photos, he might want to use his wife as his muse.

Mary is a beautiful woman who is a retired 5th grade teacher. Intelligent and generous, this incredible lady keeps herself busy every minute of her retirement. Mary exercises daily, takes classes, sews, tells Jack where to dig holes in the yard, makes all the travel plans, and then, she volunteers for the Sea Turtle Conservation Program on Hilton Head Island a few days each week. This program is devoted to protecting and monitoring the Loggerhead Sea Turtle population and Mary became quite animated as she described seeing the new hatchlings scurry to the ocean. 

On Hilton Head Island, several months of the year during Loggerhead egg laying and hatching season, all beach residents have to turn off their outside lights at night. The baby turtles tear out of their soft shells, and crawl toward the light. You see, at night, the moon and starlight flickers on the ocean, and the hatchlings have the instinct to go toward the light, where the ocean is. I thought that it would be the smell of saltwater, but no, it is the visual display of light on the water. Outside lights on a patio can confuse the lil guys, so no porch or veranda lights allowed. 

So Mary helps keep count of the turtles and has been picking up knowledge about these water loving reptiles by listening to docents and scientists. She may go to “Docent College” in the future, so she can lead parties of interested visitors in observing the turtles. There is a turtle hospital where you can see adult loggerheads up close. The best chance to see them in the wild is from May through October. The adults lay about 120 eggs per nest. Generally, only one turtle of this clutch survives to adulthood, the rest being lost to preditors within the first three days. A Loggerhead generally doesn’t lay eggs til age 25. They are gorgeous, spotted turtles and a fascinating reptile to study.

So, what are Mary’s passions, besides sea-loving turtles and their 3 grown children? Learning. She spent her working years as a teacher and took pride and pleasure in working with the children and seeing the lights in their eyes when they learned a new concept. She is an educator through and through and I could’ve talked to her for hours about the things this petite woman can converse about with authority. She is a generous teacher, methinks. So, now, after the next planned year of traveling to visit her 3 children and their new families, she will take advantage of OLLI. This is the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute. Mary says she can take classes for $85 per semester and learn just about anything she wants: local history, civil war history, current issues, art, philosphy, music, etc. 

For an artistic outlet, Mary sews. She is learning to do some quilting, but she has spent some years making machine embroidered gifts for family and friends. She has a sewing machine that will get up and play fetch for her, if she requests it. She programs in a pattern on the sewing machine software, and then changes thread colors as needed, while the machine whirrs along, spinning it’s textile magic. 

Mary keeps up on technology and uses an iPad for communications, learning, photos, etc. She took an OLLI class on iPads so she can more fully utilize this fascinating tool. Between Mary and Jack, they are keeping up with the fast paced world of electronic communications. 

That Friday night, Peter and I went on a date to The Old Oyster Factory, located on Hilton Head and overlooking the marshes and water. It was a beautiful night: we ate outside on the patio and enjoyed our moments together.

Saturday, October 5th, 2013.

This is my mother’s birthday. I was glad to spend it with Peter’s family. 

Mary and Jack enjoy friends and family coming to visit. They are rightfully proud of their beautiful home at Moss Creek and are generous with their hospitality. They drove Peter and I into “Old Bluffton”, which consists of a few blocks of artistic businesses and homes converted to shops and cafes. We visited a pottery shop where Mary had previously commissioned a coffee table top of glazed tiles. This is a gorgeous custom-made, glazed tile representation of a map of the Hilton Head Island area.  Apparently, this artist, who works on commission and partners with the shop owner, specializes in custom pottery maps---and they are hot sellers. You can tell her what map you want, where you live, and she will recreate it in clay. 

Mary and Jack introduced us to the beloved owner of the shop, Jake. 

Jake is a tall, talented craftsman who has run his shop for several decades. He is so busy that he is thinking of making an exit and retiring. He not only sculpts and makes pottery from his own ideas, but also makes sinks and functional items by order. His bakeware can go into the oven or microwave and his sinks are sturdy enough to withstand a glass falling and breaking against the sides. The ocean motif was apparent in most of the work and dolphins and turtles artfully graced his sinks and pots. 

Jake and his wife love to travel. He told the story of how he and a friend manned a sailing skiff to the Azores, crossing the Atlantic toward Portugal. The wives flew in, meeting them on the islands. They had battled some exciting storms out on the ocean and faced the high wind and waves, wondering if they would survive. They sailed the vessel in to England, where it rests. He still loves sailing and hopes for future adventures on the high seas. In the meantime, he and his wife keep fit by riding their bicycles almost daily. 

After the drive into Old Bluffton, we enjoyed a trip in the surrounding countryside as Jack gave us a tour of several miles on the road I would likely travel on Monday. It assuaged our curiosity just to know what I would be facing. That night, we all went to dinner at The Boathouse. This was another restaurant overlooking the water. We arrived close to sunset and enjoyed watching the sun glisten on the water. The “no-see-ems” and mosquitoes had a heyday on Virginia’s legs and the first 20 minutes of sitting inside were a bit miserable for her. But icewater and white vinegar reduced the itch and she was able to eat in peace. I had a delectable dish of vegetarian “sushi”, one of my favorite meals. This is basically shredded vegetables and cream cheese wrapped in seaweed. Yummmm!!

Once back at Mary and Jack’s house, we all enjoyed a glass of wine from their well stocked bar. Well, most of us did, anyway. Peter took the opportunity to practice his bartending skills and made a martini for he and his sister. This was living the life. 

Sunday, October 6th, 2013.

This predicted a sad day, but everyone contrived to make it a wonderful one, nevertheless. The family met at the restaurant at Moss Creek for an incredible brunch. Then, Peter and I took one last walk together along the marsh. Later, Peter packed his bags and we all headed for Savannah, so Peter could catch his flight back to Lubbock.

This was an example of Jack and Mary’s generosity. Again.

I hadn’t planned on going to the airport, because Peter had a rental car and I assumed he would drive off by himself. But Jack and Mary said, “No”. I would ride with Peter to the airport, where he would return the car. We would all meet inside the building, chat for a few more minutes as a family, then he would go through security and board the plane. After that, Jack and Mary had plans for me. 

So, no one let me cry.

After big hugs, Peter went through security to catch his westward flights. Mary and Jack swept me into their car and took me for a tour in historic Savannah. It is one of the cities I have wanted to visit for a long time but I wasn’t going to see it on this cycling trip. What a gift they had given me. Since Savannah is only about 30 miles from their home, they have visited this incredible city several times. Every out-of-state visitor who has come to visit them has wanted to see it, so Mary and Jack have become quite familiar with its charms. 

Savannah was originally designed on a city layout of 24 squares---these are like grassy parks surrounded by neighborhoods. Originally, these miniature parks were utilized for family fun, games, courtship, and local town meetings. Now, each one of these parks has a statue or fountain or piece of artwork that depicts some historical or memorable fact about the area. The homes are generally Victorian in style. They are simply gorgeous. Some are fantastically maintained, but they all retain their charm, regardless of condition. 

Mary and Jack pointed out numerous homes with double staircases leading to the front doors. In the Victorian era, it was a bit improper to see a lady’s ankles, so the men and women climbed a separate set of stairs, facing each other, for the sake of propriety. Of course, all those who are familiar with the Victorian era know that, for all the outward signs of propriety and “decency”, it was really quite a wild time. Kind of like Prohibition. It seems to me that the man, who could climb stairs faster than the lady in her big, heavy skirts and slippery shoes, would be at the top of the stairs waiting for the lady to catch up. Of course, she would be lifting the front of her skirt to keep from tripping over it. So, the gent, in the guise of being proper and gentlemanly, would actually see a good bit of calf, knee, and petticoat! It makes me laugh!! 

Going against nature is an exercise in futility. Trying to prevent a man from looking at a woman is a prime example.  

Telling Pandora not to open the box is another.

St John’s Basilica in Savannah was magnificent from the outside, This famous church was undergoing renovation and repair, so it was locked tight and we couldn’t go inside. Luckily, Jack had several photographs from their many trips there, so I was able to see the incredible design, paintings, and stained glass wonders--- in pictorial form. 

After driving through the streets and a short walk through a few neighborhoods, we went to the area along the Savannah River.  This tourist favorite consists of the old brick and stone river district that has been converted to a haven of cool shops and restaurants. Tourists walk along cobblestone and brick streets and enjoy the fresh seafood and delicacies along the path. There are steep staircases for the pedestrians to get from the Savannah city streets down to the river district. It is another delightful, quaint area of Savannah.

I could scratch the trip to Savannah off my bucket list now. But maybe I would like to come back for 3-4 days and really immerse myself in Savannah. Maybe Peter would like to go...

That last night in the Hilton Head area, at Moss Creek with Jack and Mary, consisted of eating trailmix, perusing photos, doing laundry, and receding into cycling mode. 

What a truly magical land.