The Hills Upsurge!

May 5

Spent last night camping on a dirt path, overtaken with forest and parallel to the road. As day dawned night the horizon spread smooth from pink, orange, yellow into blue and the earth turned slowly away from color to adorn itself with starlight. The leaves over the tents rustled and the treetops waved in the breeze, gently brushing the stream of lights above.

Me and Justin talked into the night about purpose and what paths we were each bound to and in what ways we perceived our respective paths. The heat of the sun had withdrawn with its light and the night grew cold and we withdrew ourselves to sleep.

When morning came the cold remained and we each slowly got our tents and things packed and set to the road. We were meant to have a short day, meaning to arrive at Justin's parents' house in the late afternoon. The road was easy and short with a few breaks taken, but mostly we rode and pressed on toward the finish.

It has been some time since I've ridden this way and the rhythm of the days is becoming familiar again, but the actual journey feels to me as though it has not quite yet commenced. Departing from here and leaving South Carolina's boundary, progressively freeing me from that familiar feeling found among the comfortable Southern woods and dales – then perhaps I'll encounter the endeavoring spirit I expect. I seek the wild and rugged and it awaits its guest.

Upon arriving in Greenville Justin and I rested with no real goal or purpose, this immediately perceived as a strange shift from a briefly held routine. Monday would be the second departure. The first day of rest was spent eating and sitting in front of a television living vicarious adventures while our own beckoned us from a few days on.

Late that night Justin's mother, Marlyn, said goodbye as she would be leaving after work the next day by plane to Ohio, visiting her family for Mothers' Day (where we will be heading upon leaving). She left us early with sincere hugs, well-wishing, and motherly love and worry.

May 6

The second day of rest began with us being taken out by Justin's grandparents to eat. His Grandfather has a vast repertoire of stories from his time spent as a policeman, fire chief or a worker for the railroad, times he nearly met the president or slept through a rail car rolling or raised race horses. He is a dense capsule of experience always willing to be tapped, though of course a breakfast is far too short a time to hear even a significant portion of his stories. Justin said he should sit down with a tape recorder and with a snap of his fingers tell his grandfather, “Go” – then he remembered he had. His grandfather had filled both sides of the tape in a fraction of a sitting and kept on telling. There were stories he told at the breakfast that Justin had never heard through 21 years spent listening. Some more common stories are told frequently, but there exists a deep well of more rare gems dug up only by more obscure impetus.

After the meal we returned to his parents' home and played Mario Kart with his brother, Brandon, for a while struggling tag-team to defeat him and failing.

May 7

The third day of rest began by collecting a few needed supplies. Most of the day was spent helping Justin's father, Dan, eyeball precise measurements in the backyard for construction of his gazebo and bench overlooking their birdhouse (bluebirds, Dan tells, are endangered and happily they have settled here, two years consecutively, hatching chicks both years). One of their two cats haunts the yard, having carved out a niche (whether unintentionally or deliberately) hunting out all birds which would threaten to steal the bluebirds' home.

Justin and I spent the rest of the day attempting to watch all of Lord of the Rings, which we considered a fitting beginning to our own epic journey. We tried and we failed, with sleep taking over two-thirds of the way through.

May 8

On the fourth day we first ate a Mother's Day feast at Justin's grandparents' home. This would be the final feast before the more true beginning of the trip and both Justin and I utilized it to its full. At the house we finished Lord of the Rings, pausing only to watch the sun from the back porch as it set behind the trees. All of this time has been enjoyable while tormenting and tomorrow morning I'll be thoroughly prepared for a return to my traveling mode.

May 9

Morning for me began at nine when Justin woke me up. Everything had been packed the night before so all was ready and pressing to leave. We began riding westward, stopping at Justin's grandparents' house in Liberty one last time for a breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and coffee. Both of us ate our fill then entered the living room for last minute conversation and parting. Then once again we set off with all hugs and bids of safety accompanying.

We rode on to Clemson where we stopped for coffee (a small cup is offered free on Mondays by a generous restaurant chain). There were not a lot of stops as we went on, riding the shoulder of a two-lane highway for the majority of the day. Eventually the buildings appeared less frequently and the trees and hills grew a bit higher. The feet of the pine green mountains passed happily beneath our wheels.

Here we are nearly in Georgia. Stopping at a gas station (a little confused on location) two girls inside wrote down a sequence of directions for us to find Georgia by back roads. Justin was understandably feeling a bit worn after a fifty-mile day and so we began to scout out camp. First we found a little dirt road which led to hiding in the woods but the area was in the unfortunate midst of a beehive block farm so we kept on the road. A bit more on we found a space in the woods on the leafy edge of a small forest canyon and laid out the tents.

Reflecting on the land is simple enough as there is not yet an excess of nature to excite. Thus far the majority of land has been only partially rural commercial or industrialized. As the mountains have surrounded us now I hope this will rapidly change but I remain, eagerly waiting for the vacant West to arrive.

May 10

Praise for the help of locals! The way directed us by the gas-station girl yesterday proved the change I had hoped for! I wish now I could find her and thank her again for providing us with a view of things in need of appreciation. Everything screamed beauty at the top of its lungs. We rode down hills and up hills, along the calm land off the common way. Found scarecrow fields, a church step collie, docks and rivers and a border to Georgia.

With the cross of state line came an immediately and vast growth in the hills. The climbs were steep and long, then steeper and longer. Then there were downhills quick and fearsome, propelling my bicycle onto the other side of the valley. The temperature also grown and this combined with the hills and we have now a growth in difficulty and strain. Each climb begs recognition. An equal time is spent riding up as is spent resting at its peak in the shad of a tree, refilling myself with water and biding my body heat.

Here now I sit outside the library in Clarkesville, Georgia, waiting for Justin as I'd gone on ahead of him. He may be camping somewhere already but we set this as our place to meet, so we'll converge tomorrow I suppose and continue on west tomorrow. So all is well on this end. How are you?