Shoulder!

I said farewell to my fabulous host and hit the road around 8. I navigated a few city streets and then quickly was back on 17. ...But this was a different 17 than I was used to. This one had shoulder. No, not just shoulder, but a designated bike lane. For reasons I don't understand, the cyclist symbols on their lanes appear to be wearing rice hats or something rather than helmets, but I'm not complaining. The bike lane didn't last for too long, but the shoulder held. In fact, right after the bike lane ended there was briefly a shoulder so wide it felt like a "Yo dawg, we here you like shoulder, so here's shoulder with your shoulder," kind of situation. But on a whole, even as the shoulder would vary widely in width throughout the day, it was at all times much better than it's been throughout the Carolinas. It made for much better, much more relaxed, riding all day.

A dozen or so miles in, as I sat at a light, with mist covering the road ahead, this little boy looked out of the passenger seat of a van at me, and shouted in the most adorable voice, "Are you ready for it?" It took me just a moment to realize he was referring to the imminent rain. I smiled and nodded back at him as the light changed. The rain came seconds later, drips at first, quickly becoming a downpour, thunder rumbling in the distance. But in this heat, I didn't mind. The only frustration was in getting water in my left eye that was hard to get out with every bit of fabric on me soaked through.

As the rain reduced to a drizzle, I reached Midway, where I came upon a beautiful, historic cemetery, of the sort I haven't seen since the Northeast. I took some time to admire the trees and graves before heading on. At Riceboro I stopped to use the restroom and buy some junk at the convenience store. The lady at the register there exclaimed "You're riding in the rain?" I told her I still had to get where I was going. The world doesn't stop because it's raining. A ways south of there I saw America's Smallest Church...which is exactly what it sounds like. Oh, the roadside attractions of the rural America...

At Eulonia I had a choice to make to stay on 17 or make the turn onto 99 as Google suggested. 17 was the shorter route, but 99 had little towns along it and I knew it would be less trafficked. I decided to take 99. It meant I was going straight east against the wind for awhile, but not too long. But sadly, the little towns bore little to no interest, as they were scarce but names on the map and some houses. Darien came and went. Then I passed through a lovely marshy wilderness area. And shortly after, I reached Brunswick.

I debated whether to keep my hotel reservation or cancel and continue a few more miles to a campground. I said the heck with it, and decided to stay in the hotel. If I do it all the time I will break my budget, but I spent less than expected getting lots of hosts for most the trip. And this hotel is barely more than primitive camping at Myrtle Beach cost. I was a little concerned at first because I couldn't find an office, the place where it should be locked and empty. After some searching, it turned out that the old hotel building next door is housing the office for this one while it undergoes renovation. It was odd. But I got in.

And after an evening of relaxing with TV, getting Subway, researching if the off-tasing water is okay to drink (which apparently it is), and talking to people on the phone, it is now sleep time.