I got off that highway as fast as I could, and the rest of the day
went pretty well (if you call pedaling another 80 miles in 115 degree
heat– while wearing a blue jean jacket– well). South Carolina was
pretty (if you call swampy, desolate, pretty), but it was a little
scary because of all the poisonous snakes. I haven’t seen any live
gators (one dead), but biking along the highway I did see the largest
non-zoo snake ever. It was 4 or 5 inches around and about 6 feet long.
It was moving just off the highway at about the same speed I was
biking. I switched gears and left the snake behind.
The whole snake thing, to say the least, made camping along the
highway a bit precarious, which brings me to the point: I’m sitting
here in my tent, fifty or so miles out of Charleston, nursing my sunburn
and writing in my journal. I feel like a little kid hiding his head under his
blanket for protection. This was the best spot I could find to put up my
tent– in the middle of bottomland, in the middle of nowhere, in the
middle of snake country. I know the critters are not far off. When I
think of a snake slithering under my tent, I get the heebe jeebies. Oh
well, such is life! Last night for dinner, I had a quart of beer, a
can of cold spaghetti and bread. Tonight I’m having carrots, bread,
and water. I wonder if the magazine, Good Housekeeping, would be
interested in a few diet tips?
P.S. Snapping Chiggers off my tent screen with my fingers. Goodnight
for now. See you tomorrow, I hope.