Day 15: Myrtle Beach, SC

Short entry because phone is wigging.

End of leg one: The Gauntlet.

Leg two: Prodigal Son begins in 3 days.

Have helmet vent-shaped tan on my head. Makes me look like an alien.

Fixed comment setting that required logging in to leave a comment.

EDIT 11/30/07: (reset phone) Limped in to Myrtle Beach after three hours on the ocean highway. Flat and straight does wear on you after a while. Once I score some pepper spray–a lot of it–I’ll hit the farm roads again.

This is also the end of the hotel spree that I’ve been on. It’s expensive, even with all of the tricks that I can muster. I only camped twice the entire first leg. That’s going to change. I may not be doing stealth camping anymore like I used to, but my next route will be all about the tent. I blew out a month’s budget in two weeks. That same amount of money once got me across half the continent ten years ago. Enjoy the three star hotel, mister Dan, because it’s state parks and KOAs from here on out.

Myrtle Beach is more developed than I expected. I thought it’d be a few cheap motels and some divey joints, but instead it’s the South’s own Atlantic City. Pretty unsettling. This ain’t a Southern town. It’s an extraction of the Northeastern U.S. But at least there’s a beach, and while the rest of the nation has rain, I got sunshine. Woo!

Day 14: Shallotte, NC

A steady, unremarkable ride today, and I should have called it quits when I rollled into the hotel. Instead I went for a walk into town–a 6 mile round trip walk–and discovered that walking is many times worse on strained ankles than bicycling. My right is now swollen and worse than ever. Going to be a hard ride into Myrtle Beach tomorrow.

I Pricelined three days there at a nice hotel. Maybe get back on keel with injury recovery.

Shallotte was a different experience than everything I’ve seen in VA and NC. A prosperous town, safe, plenty of stores and a public library.

I swung into the library to see if I could get PC access. They practically fingerprinted me. Gone is the simple sign up sheet of just a few years ago. I had to read a form, initial it, sign it, sign another form, be assigned a computer use card good for one half hour, show my ID (which she ran on some database), listen to a schpiel, and of course, wait in line. On a Thursday after five in a small town. And I didn’t get a library card, even. Times have changed.

Couldn’t score any pepper spray or dog deterrent anywhere, although one clerk told me “all you really need is some rock sawlt unna 12 gauge.”

Back to the hotel on a perfect–absolutely perfect–night to the sounds of somebody’s crack baby across the hall. What a horrible sound. The mother just ignored it, and it kept making short controlled bursts (like the way you fire an Uzi) for hours. I towelled up the floor seam and turned on the weather channel and you could still hear it. Ugh.

Day 13: Burgaw, NC

Woke up early and walked over to the scene of the crime: Wal-Mart. Bought a three dollar pair of pliars. No more massage for the unruly tire. Time for brute force correction. Got the bead lined up the old Irish way, and added the pliars to my tool stash. Heavy but useful.

The first half hour was bliss. An open shoulder and a tailwind from Zeus himself. Then the trail took me onto rough pavement through old country. And a new experience.

I passed a solitary law-man holding a shotgun. Click click click goes my gears shifting and maybe I threw some zig-zag into it just in case. Later down the road I see an understated sign reading, “Inmates Working”. Okay.

Later I pass a couple of work gangs. One of them says something as I pass.
No shoulder. Traffic increases at Faison, and by the time I pass the interstate, truck traffic is intense.

Passed through a dog-run and caught one. Big old hound looking for some fun. It always scares me when they’re chasing me from the front. And this one was HUGE. And fast. I should have been his next chew toy, but he was merciful.

Grabbed lunch at Pizza Hut. Did the usual Q&A for some locals and hit the trail. Twenty miles later I’m bargaining with a motel mogul on his rate. Success and a dinner at Hardees. Oops, won’t do that again.

Day 12: Mt. Olive, NC

Rolled into Goldsboro at a fantastic clip with a nice tailwind. Same with Mt. Olive. Hit a staple on the rear tire riding into Wal-Mart and fixed the flat in no-time but getting the rear tire beads to seat was the devil’s own job. Spent two hours at it and somehow managed to draw in a range of visitors from an elderly couple who were fascinated by me, a couple of people from the local press, an old guy on a beat-up moped who was determined to help me against my own will, and a Wal-Mart store manager who was anxious for me to beat it. (It was your lot I got the flat in, dork!)

Got a room nearby at the Southern Belle. Homely but clean. Ate at the Southern Belle restaurant. Honest home-cooking and cheap.

EDIT 11/30/07: Found out what that old coot was after. I’d left one of my saddlebags open while getting the tools out and it seems that he filched my flask. I remember shifting it around to get at my tools. And I checked the area after the job was done, so I know it didn’t get jostled out. Son of a… It was an empty flask, anyway–evidently there are no stores in the entire state of North Carolina except for the virtually unmarked one here in Shallotte.

<em>Edit 12/1/07:</em> “ABC Package Store” is the name of what so far seems to be the only liquor store chain around. I probably passed quite a few because all are understated and until I crossed the state line, none said the word “liquor”, although there are several in SC that do so. Just more dumb laws in NC, probably.

Kind of the same thing as “24 Hour News”. Yeah, man, it’s 3 am and I really need to check out what’s going on in the world. Thank the lord for 24 hour news! And while I’m here I’ll pick up a vintage 3-pack of news magazines, and a used news VHS tape.

Day 11: Wilson, NC

Made 53 miles today and the ankles are still sore but they didn’t give me any serious trouble. Wilson is a decrepit town with a half-hearted attempt at revitalization. Got alot of glares and stares. Was happy to get out.

Heavy fog most of the day. Felt a few drops coming into Wilson and by the time I’d dismounted, I was being pounded, and by the time I’d suited up and covered the sleeping bag, the rain had stopped.

The only hotel I could find was an Econo Lodge set amid abandoned flea markets. Lots of questionable traffic during the night.

Had some barbeque down the road at Parker’s. It was honest fare and I was happy to find it. I don’t know if it was standard NC BBQ so I’ll withhold comment until I can sample more.
 Much more to say but I’m posting this several days afterward; I’ll revisit later.

Day 10: Medoc Mountain State Park, NC

Rode a half-day to a nearby State Park in the “piedmont”, meaning foothills, but really just along somewhat lumpier ground. Some cotton, mostly woods and country homes. Across the state park is a meagre little race track with hand-painted signs. I bet the park rangers hate it. Bet that does wonders for the hikers.

Not much in the park on a good day, let alone an overcast and rainy day like today. There’s no mountain as the name would suggest, just a lump that you can’t see because of forest cover. Still, the place was damn near empty except for some kids in jacked-up WT race cars who were tent camping and left right after I got there. I found a spot, pitched a tent, and enjoyed the profound quiet. No races tonight. Just an eery quiet.

Some rain came through and the tent performed well on its first wet weather trial. Slept early and woke up around 2am. Fog everywhere, continual dripping from the trees. Read a bit, played some guitar but it felt like I was trespassing on the silence.

Day nine: Roanoke Rapids, NC

Third full day. Went for a 5 mile ride, unloaded, through the town proper. Pretty dismal main street. Really neat high school building from a time when people took pride in their civic architecture; the whole thing was done up like a castle.

On the industrial end of town was a nearly abandoned line of buildings and a church on one corner with a sign that was painted “Brimstone Baptist”.

Wanted: Small church needs new marketing director. Must be able to withstand high kelvin pulpit action and traumatic levels of bible thumping. Needs to think of name that does not drive away business.

I took a priceless picture of it but I somehow deleted it along with a few others. Some pictures show up blank until I reset the phone. Started taking pictures with the other camera but I don’t have a way of getting them from the SD card until I reach a PC. Couldn’t find the library in town but I didn’t try very hard.

The mall was desolate as well. There was a lively J.C. Penney’s–an almost strictly octogenarian crowd–but the rest of the 80s style mall was dead except for mall-walkers. By dead I mean there were literally no stores open except for a dollar store and a coffee place with a paper sign. And a few mall-walking signs and the usual mall-walking music that even Kenny G would be embarrassed to make.

Had pizza buffet for lunch. Strain was light when I got back to the hotel. Crepitation in left ankle, no swelling.

Day eight: Roanoke Rapids, NC

Ankles do not seem improved. Not sure that all of yesterday’s walking was a great idea. The crepitation seems to recede after rest but comes back after any walking or riding with an hour offset. Pricelined two more nights at this hotel this morning.
Needless to say, this really sucks. Wish the damn thing would heal quickly and I don’t think that’s going to happen.
Went to Wal-Mart and couldn’t score any pepper spray or dog deterrent of any kind. I know it’s not illegal in this state but they might have some retailing restrictions. They have racks of firearms to the ceiling but not a drop of the good stuff. Well, they have beer here, but I mean pepper spray.

Day seven: Roanoke Rapids, NC

First full day at rest. Ankles much improved in morning. Went for a long walk into town but probably should have just stayed off feet altogether… But, god, I gotta do *something*.

Thanksgiving. Had two offers for a ride into town (it was a two mile walk). Pricelined two more days in town to be safe, turns out the same hotel.

Had T-giving dinner at Ruby Tuesday’s off the Interstate, one of the only places open that night. After living in California, New York, Texas and Maryland, where smoking in restaurants is not allowed, it’s easy to forget how disgusting it can be to eat and inhale. Had absolutely terrible service but they were predictably short-staffed. Even then the staff just kind of milled about, not at all responding to customers. Last call at 8pm but they continued to serve to favored customers at the bar. They got my order wrong. I was fine with all of it–l was just glad to be away from the hotel–but others were livid. Why were they even open if they couldn’t get staff? But in the big picture, who really cares anyway?

Day six: Roanoke Rapids, NC

Left the dumpy Knights Inn Emporia with a cup of watery coffee and a cool morning. Left ankle was giving me a lot of trouble and I was worried. By the time I made Dumptown proper–Emporia, I mean–it was downright bad, and I had some notes from the right ankle, too. Something was very wrong.

Ate a hearty brunch while keeping a Scroogy eye on my rig just outside. It’s hard sometimes not to let it go for a few minutes, but on the day before T-givin’ the lines were long and folks were everywhere. It was locked up but I kept envisioning some kid fumbling with one of the bags, taking something. Sounds silly, sure. But it always happens at some point when I don’t have an eye on it. And once on my first trip I actually caught a kid (who had been deployed from a nearby car) trying to untie one of the panniers as I emerged from a Wendy’s in Pittsburg.

A much needed meal at Emporia, and back to the road after Pricelining a two-star for two nights in Roanoke rapids, NC. A painful ride across the state border on some flat terrain through proper cotton country. Good-bye, hills of Virginia!

Creeks and cottonland, no dogs, not much traffic. Rolled through an all-black small town for the first time. All eyes were upon me in the afternoon quiet. I guess that’s what it feels like for a black person to pass through an all-white small town.

The hotel was on the other side of the interstate. Hello, Roanoke Rapids.