My Plan C

Finding love in strange places

I was in a funk yesterday. My mood is changing. The end of this journey is near and that’s good and a bit sad too.

Yesterday’s airbnb stay in West Ocean City was particularly memorable to me as I had just ridden through the some of the most beautiful natural areas of my trip. Farmlands appeared so vast you could hardly see their end. You could smell the fresh tilled soil and manure. And, not hear a car for a half hour. This reminded me of Pennsylvania or areas of New Jersey with the realization that I’m coming closer to the land and home I knew and loved.

Virginia and her husband Don bought a small vacation home with the intention of retiring in the Ocean City area. Their place is in an older development about 8 miles outside of OC. They have been in the area now since 2007 and have several children, grand children and one great-grandchild. They are about my age at 70.

Their home is modest and not fancy in any way. You might classify it has cluttered but that would give the wrong impression. There are memories and symbols of a family life all around.

In my room alone there is a prayer to St. Francis next to a quote about motherhood. Countless beach and sailing scenes in pink, blue, and coral pastels occupy as much space as they are allowed. I’m particularly drawn to three different paintings of children with their back’s turned looking toward the ocean. The bedroom I occupy has been well used and is very small and crowded with items that to me seem like frozen memories.

Every Airbnb stay is different, and I hope I can elaborate on that at another time. But this one is special to me. Airbnb asks you to rate a place on such factors as style, amenities, cleanliness, etc. I think their rating system is fair but may miss a point.

I spoke to Virginia and Don about living in the area that evening in the comfort of their kitchen like neighbors would. They are officially retired and moved to the area from Baltimore but remain active with their extended family and their own pet store business. Their love for animals was evident in their cat and three Maltese dogs that were dressed in dresses or skirts that were handmade by Virginia.

Our topics ranged widely but mostly it was about family and kids and grandkids and how they would travel as far as Romania for their son and his wife’s wedding. We agreed how wonderful it is to travel and see other places and meet interesting people, even if you don’t understand the language or the history of the place you are visiting. It was one of the most enjoyable conversations I have had on this trip and made me feel at home.

That night going to sleep on soft, well-worn cotton sheets in an old bed, I realized that the clutter, tchotchkes and the conversation made me feel like being at home as a kid. I grew up in a home with clutter, conversation and plenty of love. I suddenly realized that although Virginia was my age she reminded me of my mom who passed away 20 years ago. Maybe it was the stage I’m at with this tour, but I broke down and cried for missing her. That was the best and most I could ask from any Airbnb stay.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there! Love can be anywhere. And, your love can appear in the strangest of places.

Where everyone knows your name

I had no idea of what a town in the middle of Maryland’s Eastern Shore would be like. I was just following the formula of choosing a place about 60 to 80 miles from my last destination on this bike trip and came upon Snow Hill, Maryland. I guess I also have not been hanging in bars recently and forgot what a unique experience it is.

Snow Hill is about 30 miles west of Ocean City, MD. Ocean City is a popular vacation place on the Atlantic, especially for the DC and Maryland crowd. But Snow Hill seems to be a forgotten place or perhaps one that would prefer to be that way. On their website, they describe the town as

“Nestled on the south banks of the Pocomoke River Snow Hill is a place where people know each other.”

I rambled though much farm country and few towns on my bike before I got to Snow Hill. its an old town, maybe one of the oldest dating back to the mid-1600’s. The name “Snow Hill” was name for a town in England where the founders came from. Roaming the streets and looking at the houses, you know this is a special place.

My gracious airbnb hosts, Margaret and Tony, originally from Connecticut, relocated here years ago to retire as some of their children came to the area. Since then the children have migrated to areas as far-flung as Alaska. They still like it here and it’s easy to see why.

Tony and Maggie suggested walking a few blocks into town for dinner and drinks., That would be my normal end of day routine after a tough day on the bike. They suggested the Harvest Moon, a local pub but with good food and the right vibe.

LIke any bar these days there’s at least five TVs and conversations going at once. I look around and find a seat in the middle of the bar. Today is Kentucky Derby day and we are witnessing the parading of horses before the race. Bets and conversations are flowing. Charlie, down the end of the bar, wins the Kentucky Derby picking Justify and buys us all a round of drinks.

Dennis and his girlfriend step up to the bar and ask me if its okay for me to move over a seat. We get into a conversation about the food here, and I find out that its all good and fresh, especially the sea food (no surprise there). Dennis is from Salisbury MD and has had an interesting career fishing and in disaster recovery.

He’s a nominally retired guy, probably a little younger than me, but gets called up whenever there’s a major catastrophe to evaluate the situation and figure out how to clean it up. He was instrumental in disasters in Haiti and hurricanes Sandy and Irma. This way he works only when he wants to. He was a fisherman way back when and still considers it his sport and maybe the passion in his life. Dennis likes his current lifestyle, semi-retired.

On my right side is a young guy, Brian, probably early 30s, that looks like and is a fisherman in a crew that takes wealthy people out wherever they want to go fishing. He talks about days held up outside the Florida Keys and being in the ports of Mexico and South America. Brian is chasing a dream for some satisfying job. He used to install alarm systems for some small family business that got succesful. Then they stopped caring about the customers and the quality of work and went corporate. He headed up the sales and told them to screw it. He went fishing.

I’ve seen this before but not in the middle of a place I know little about. I look around and everyone seems to know each other or at least know who each one is. That doesn’t stop Dennis or Brian from talking, along with Mike and Kathy next to him. Everyone at the Bar is wrapped in a flowing conversation. We barely remember the Kentucky Derby.

Interestingly, the conversation changes to “pain management.” Mike (a nurse) and Brian (fisherman) have had spinal fusions and have repeated pain even after the operations. The subject veers to the new perscription pain medicine of marijuana and THC in its other forms. Others in the bar join in. Our waitress Tammy chimes in. Brian elected to sample someone’s medicine to see if it could work for him. This is a new set of topics I expect we will hear more about in the near future. The world has changed since the 60’s and yet maybe it hasn’t.

Dennis asks Tammy for a piece of paper and he gives me his phone number. “If you’re ever in this area again let’s to go out eating, drinking or fishing”. Later, Brian does the same thing and says he admires the bike tour idea and just let him know if I need anything. I’m about three sheets (3 pints of local IPA) into the wind and decide its time to stroll back to my safe and secure home for the night.

Anyway, we are replaying the old beauty, nostalgia and comfort of an old bar, many hundreds of miles away from the original Cheers bar. For tonight, we are all one big happy family telling our story. Some things don’t change. Or perhaps the characters and the things they talk about do over time. It still a bar where at the end of the night…everybody knows your name.

How the sausage is made…part 2

When last we talked, about how this is done, I was explaining the basics of my bike and how I navigate. Today we’ll talk about money and food – two essential topics to any along any long journey.

The original objective with my partner Tom Landes was to do this trip as inexpensively as possible (aka, cheap). It looked promising as we could share the expense of a room anywhere. Also, Tom fancied himself as a good impromtu cook. If you know Tom, you know we would be saving as much money as we can on everything. That would give me the discipline to stay cheap also. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not just the money for me, but the game of doing this cheaply.

Where to Stay

When Tom dropped out after the first week, things changed. Not only was it tough to save as much as Tom could, but I found myself wanting to enjoy some of the places and temptations along the way.

We started the journey favoring airbnb places. Basically, our requirement was a semi-private space in a house near a 50-mile destination ahead. Our first night in Plantation, outside of Fort Lauderdale was fine and cheap at only about $50 for the room with 2 beds. However, the next night I traveled to Key West while Tom chose to go in the north direction. We agreed to catch up in a few days. Now, lodging was an individual cost until we would meet up again. Long story short, when we met up a day later Tom gave up and returned home. Now, I was faced with lodging costs alone.for the rest of the trip. The only other alternative I had was camping – but more on that another time.

At the quality level of our lodging we would expect to pay $50 to $100 (sometimes more). While that seems like a minor expense in the scheme of things, that amount gets substantial the longer you are out on the road. That is an incentive to finish faster.

Airbnb it turns out is a great alternative to a motel. While prices can be similar to a basic motel, you have the advantage of understanding more about the place you will stay, quick, simple and reliable booking and the advantage of interacting with regular people (although that can be disadvantage at times).

airbnb in Georgetown called the Brew House – free beer of guests plus, antiques and charcuterie

I’ll blame it on psychology, but the harder the day is the more you feel like spending on a good dinner and drinks and enjoying the experience of the places you go to. So, what started as a $75 daily budget soon grew to $100 – between lodging and meals. If you multiply that times the number of days – 30 to 60 – the trip becomes expensive even at the frugal level we had planned.

Ya Gotta Eat

The only thing driving my engine at the end of the day is food. I do not spend time figuring out how much to eat or of what variety. Usually, I can go on a light breakfast and either do a brunch or lunch. Dinner is usually around 6-7 p.m.

I started thinking I would follow a very strict diet of good carbs and protein. That hasn’t happened, mainly because it’s not always convenient to do so. There are days I will simply go to a super market (usually called Red Lion around here) and buy a variety of things at a reasonable cost. Unfortunately, when I go I’m usually hungry and end up buying more than I need and often leave things behind. I just can’t carry much excess on my bike.

If I go out to eat which is 2 out of 3 days, I’ll get a couple of beers and a burger, tacos or entrée which will cost $30-$40. The prices seem somewhat the same no matter where you go or what type of food.

Of course, this being the eastern coast, seafood is the preferred choice. I’ve eaten hogfish (can only be gotten in the Keys) to lowlands shrimp, to oysters and conch. Everything is so delicious and fresh. And, of course, I’ve dabbled in the unique cuisines of Key West, Savannah, Charleston and the Chesapeake. I can confirm that North Carolina has great barbeque.

Lowlands Benedict: Fried oysters, two poached eggs, wilted spinach, home fries with ham gravy at Eli’s Table in Charleston

Well, I’m on my way home and have only another week or two left. I don’t expect expenses or my diet to change as they have gotten me this far.

It’s hard to figure the importance of a good place to stay or the what the proper nutrition is for the type of activity I’m doing where you are expending thousands of calories a day.

Broiled Shark Tips with Basil Smashed Potatoes and Asparagus at the Shanty in Cape Charles VA

All I can say is I’m feeling great and my body is probably burning off more calories than it has ever done in this period of time. Rest comes easy most days between the physical exhaustion, mental challenges and the substantial food and drink I consume.

I wonder what it will be like when I get back to my normal life?

Love the one you’re with

Been thinking about a song all day today written by Stephen Stills and sung so sweetly by Crosby, Stills, and Nash.

If you’re down and confused
And you don’t remember who you’re talking to
Concentration slip away
Because your baby is so far away

Each day I’m thinking about my baby (Mary Ann) and all my other babies too. My kids, grandkids, and all of my extended family and friends. It can make you sad missing them or make you glad for all the blessings I have.

But, right now there are two other objects of my attention. (Warning: this could be the 90 degree heat today, mind you). They are Silver and the Joker, my everyday companions on this cycling journey.

Silver is the name I just gave my bike. Its a titanium framed thing of beauty shining in the sun and the closest thing to me day-in and day-out. Its name is a fitting honor for “Silver,” The Lone Ranger‘s trusty horse. This goes way back to the age of cowboys and courage. He would shout, “Hi Ho Silver Away.” and the masked man would beat back all his foes and escape on Silver to save the day. It was awe-inspiring. And, Silver was a big part of the deal. So too, is Silver, my bike, who just seems to get better as the days wear on.

The Expat — A tuned and cleaned bike is a happy bike

The second object of my attention is the little talisman I have attached to my bike. On day three of this journey, I was starving and looking for a place for lunch after completing the 7-mile bridge on the Keys. The restaurant was closed but I looked down on the ground and found an old Batman toy character, The Joker.

I was immediately drawn to picking it up and examining it, then owning it. It has a button on the back that allows the Joker to extend an arm with a sign saying “Ha, Ha, Ha.” ! Guess that was the punch line. So, it now proudly rides with me on my rear commuter pack. When in a bind, traveling a bridge or just thinking crazy thoughts I go back to the Joker, who is basically saying “I’ve got the last laugh.” I’m still going!

pic of the Joker — The Joker is part of my team warding off evil spirits.

While I have not resorted to speaking directly to Silver or the Joker, there may come a time. All I know is that things are rolling along and I’m counting on my everyday buddies to pull me through. We are a team now – Me, Silver and the Joker. “Hi, Ho Silver and Away!”

Well there’s a rose in a fisted glove
And the eagle flies with the dove
And if you can’t be with the one you love, honey
Love the one you’re with

Magic Never Gets Old

I’ve learned first-hand what its like to seek out a place to crash at the end of a long day of cycling. Factors such as weather, mechanical problems and physical exhaustion can dramatically alter your plans. It’s hard to plan a long-term trip in detail in advance. Even more so when this is your first cycling tour.

There is a somewhat strange organization called Warm Showers that is a cooperative group of touring cyclists that puts up cyclists, such as myself, without cost and other of the etiquette of a B&B. The idea is you willfully accept others to stay with you if you are a host and do this thru the kindness and empathy as a fellow touring cyclist. I knew about this organization but was skeptical of its coverage and effectiveness, so I never really looked into it as an option. Figuring if you are paying someone you at least can expect something reliable in return. But, it’s still an admirable thing they are trying to do.

So far, I’ve been able to make a combination of airbnb 1 night stays and a few motels work for me on this trip. But, Monday as I got off the ferry my plan fell apart as the motel I reserved near the Hatteras Ferry wanted $129 per night in a dead season and they informed me that the WiFi was not working. I was pissed as it was already getting near 5:00 pm and I needed shelter for the night, without a lot of choices.

Then I remembered Jim. Jim had approached me on the ferry going to Ocracoke Island as we discussed cycling and his main interest of wind surfing. I surmised we were of a similar age and background with an interest in lively sports. I wondered if there was others out there that saw a need to keep physically aggressive in different ways as we age. Jim offered me to stay at a place he was sharing with an older woman who was 85 and still was wind surfing. He also insisted that I take his phone number. Just in case.

So, here I was so pissed for being ripped off and remembering Jim’s offer, that I called him and he insisted I come right over and stay there. A brewing catastrophe was averted by sheer luck. I canceled my reservation and got back on my bike and headed 20 more miles more to Jim’s place.

By now, the sun is setting and I find their house at the end of a road that meets the sound. It’s Jim’s friend Lu’s place right on the Pimlico Sound where a bunch of now 60-80 year olds have rented each year about this time since the day they discovered and fell in love with wind surfing decades ago.

Jim looks spry and is here to wind surf as is Lu. Many of their friends have left the sport behind. Some have stayed here at the Outer Banks. A smaller number come back each year as the numbers dwindle. This area seems to be the world-wide hub of the sport because of its vast body of shallow water and ideal winds. But newer sports like kite-sailing are getting the attention these days. This is the ideal time of the year for these wind sports.

Lu is an interesting person. She remarks about her 6 or 7 joint replacements and endless PT. But, you know these are all just temporary obstacles. She’s always been an active person from Vermont and an avid skier. Even at her age she is on the ski patrol at Mad River. Most of her injuries have been from skiiing.

After showing me my room, I sit down totally exhausted for dinner. Here I am in conversation with two very unique interesting individuals. Jim seems to know everything about wind and air and various sports around that, from kiting to ice gliding and dessert sailing. Lu is active everywhere, looking after her five kids and their families now as far-flung as France and Utah. We eat a dinner of roast pork, potatoes and asparagus. This simple meal was some of the most appreciative food I have ever eaten.

I ask myself how does this happen? Is this just pure luck that I’m here? I’m convinced that it was Jim who took the initiative to introduce himself, engage with me and probably because he has experienced the magic that giving gives not only to the person receiving but to the giver too.

Jim and Lu asked nothing of me. No money or promise. I hope I helped them enjoy the two weeks of wind surfing ahead. I hope I can pay this too forward. And, I wish that at 85 I can still stay active and ride a bike, handle the problems of getting old and be generous enough to help others as Jim and Lu taught me that day.

Yin and Yang of bike touring

I’ve mentioned my fear of bridges before. But recently I’ve learned that the Yin for that is the pleasure of ferries. If the threat of annihilation by truck, or the death falling off a bridge just to cross a body of water is the dark side (Yang), then the crossing of water by ferry, at least here on my trip, represents the zen-like pleasure of waiting, walking on and experiencing miles of your travel being lopped off for pennies on the mile.

Picture this. You arrive at a ferry stop which, at least this time of the year, is not busy or crowded. You purchase your ticket and learn that a passenger and bike crossing cost only $3 to get to the other side. One ferry went 5 miles and another 20 – that’s a 2.5 hr ride! And, get this. If you get to Ocracoke Island the hourly ferry to take you to Hatteras is FREE. Always. Both ways. Cars are a little more expensive. But in northeastern terms still a real bargain.

Once on the ferry, the ride is smooth, easy and relaxing. Strangers talk to each other, like the motorcycle couple who saw my Colorado bike jersey. They had to transplant to the Washington DC area for work but miss Colorado dearly. There were 3 Montreal couples on the strangest 3-wheeled vehicles, each with baggage in tow. Then there was then young wedding planner nervous about a big affair coming this Saturday (cinco de mayo) with a wild mother-of-the-bride to deal with. She was heading to meet her boyfriend to chill out for the day. And, on Cedar Island I met Harold who was a Long Island native clammer who has been chasing better waters until they become popular and too poluted and over fished. He was a vibrant 75 with a great friendly and accepting attitude.

Lastly, there was Jim. Jim approached me with admiration of my bike and mentioned he just bought a new one and was looking for a good seat for it. I learned he was going to Hatteras to do wind-surfing. He offered out of the blue for me to stay overnight if I need to at a place. He was sharing a big house with a friend and even gave me his phone number. There’s more to this story which I’ll post another time.

On the water there is no anxiety, only peace and calm, at least under this great weather day. For me, it’s an unexpected therapy after four bridges that day (and they were not even that bad).

Today, after appreciating the trek yesterday and realizing that I had made it to such a vast and beautiful place as Cape Hatteras, I decided to take it all in. Yes, take all the Yin I can find. I rode just 15 miles north to my planned KOA campsite. It’s a day off camping at the beach!

How the sausage is made…part 1

I felt it was time we talked. That is, some of you may be curious as to how I’m doing this, day in and day out. This happens entirely on an elegantly designed self-propelled vehicle weighed down by some equipment. Today, we’ll just cover two items; the bike and where to go.

The Bike and Me

I’m about 145 lbs and carrying about 50-lbs of stuff in 5 separate bags that is everything in the world to me while I’m out here. It was my decision to also include camping equipment and cameras – things I think make the trip more memorable at the expense of their weight.

The bike itself is 22 lbs and is a custom-built Seven Cycles model called the Expat S. The frame is titanium, the fork is carbon and the handle bars and wheels are aluminum. Most of the 50 lb weight I’m carrying is distributed in the rear of the bike on a strong aluminum rack system. There are two Iberia pannier bags that hang on the sides and one commuter case on top of the rack. I’ve upgraded my tires since starting this trip in the Keys to super-durable Continental Touring 37c tires – probably the best technical move I’ve made on this trip.

One pannier contains two plastic shopping bags – one bag has my cycling clothes and the other all my casual clothes. Each has a minimal amount of clothes for 2 or 3 days. The other pannier has camping equipment and some backup cycling tools and parts.

The commuter case that sits in top of the rack contains all my electronics and camera gear. Also, it carries my money, ID, energy food, toiletries and few other things. It’s also great to use for going shopping or going into town as a place I can stash stuff.

There’s also a top-tube bar bag in the middle of the bike with a basic cycling repair kit for flats, wrenches and a cable and lock system to secure the bike when I leave it in public. Hanging off the handle bars in front is my ultra-light 2-man tent, weighing in at about 5 lbs.

Riding this type of bike, fully loaded, is a new experience. It is very easy to tip to a side and bring the bike and me quickly to the ground. I learned that quickly the first few days. This usually happens when stopping or starting to roll. Once you get the bike rolling its an amazingly solid balance and even tank-like when going down the highway. I’ve learned that even in wind, it usually holds a steady course. Of course, working the margins of a shoulder or even a traffic lane requires concentration and a steady hand. Quick turns must be avoided. One more thing. Don’t try pedaling standing up – you’ll quickly throw yourself off-balance.

It takes me an hour or more each morning to repack and examine the bike before I set out, between 6:00 to 8:00 a.m. depending on what’s ahead.

In Google I Trust…sometimes

The night before I usually examine the route I’m going to take. For me, the route should be about 60 miles which is my current daily target. That will vary each day depending on the route, the lodging options and how I’m feeling. The specific route is a variation of what Google thinks are bicycle routes to a destination. Just go to http://maps.google.com and you will see between any directional points one and usually more routes suggested. That route becomes my compass for the day.

Right now I view the directions I choose and set out, often with Google maps audio instructions on when to turn, just like you might in a car. One problem at the moment is I do not have earphones so hearing the exact turn is difficult most of the time. Also, know that Google’s verbal instructions are often wrong or lead you to places you wish you never saw – such as deserted gravel roads…

The last problem using the Google maps technique is that it eats up smartphone power like crazy. Within 3 to 4 hours my iPhone 7 is on 10% power warning, at which point I hook up one of my two backup power supplies – an absolute must for this ride In fact, I’m using a solar panel backup for one of the supplies.

In any case, it works as long as you know it takes some fine tweaking. For some out there, you might be wondering why not use a proven course someone else has laid out, like the East Coast Greenway or a GPX Strava/Garmin route? My two points here are that marked trails usually based on maximum safety and community-minded factors that make them inefficient if you want to cover as many miles as as you can in the shortest period of time. And, choosing the best digital route take too long to figure out. For a long distance challenge, the best method is still ad hoc using at least some of the quick and effective wisdom that Google maps offers.

That said, I wasted a couple extra hours yesterday thinking I was following the right course and then realizing that I was going in the wrong direction. But, eventually, the miles go on, I get closer to home and the cycling sausage is made.

I got kicked out of the Marines

I was on my way from Jacksonville, NC at a nicely antique-decorated Airbnb home that was eerily quiet, although the owner (I think) was next door. It was a non-contact stay, although by now I wanted more human contact and to meet people along the way. Jacksonville was a skeleton of a city mostly acting as a convenient transition point for visitors to the Marine’s Camp LeJeune nearby.

While Rt 24 or 17 took me out of Jacksonville, I was surprised to find a bike path following the same roads and decided this might be a safer and more enjoyable way to get to Moorehead City.

Maybe it was the fact that my rigged bike looked like a rolling nuclear device or maybe with the new gray scruffy beard that they realized I was too old to be a recruit. In any case, three big Marines were quickly upon me as I easily rolled past the Camp LeJeune gate. No kidding.

I feebly explained that the LeJeune bikeway just kept going into the base. Then I tried to blame it on Google. It looked suspicious. Thank God they did not inspect my bags. They are not a pleasant site right now.

Anyway, I backtracked and began my trek on a big wide smooth highway. Camp LeJeune is enormous and well guarded. Although I can say that at least for 1 day I was either a weird recruit or terror on wheels.

Fear Creeps In

I just happen to be in Wilmington after a great day of cycling from Calabash. It was a magical day that started off woken in my airbnb stay by the sound of thunder at 4:00 a.m. or so. The weather forecast looked great as I went to bed so this put just a bit of fear into what might be unexpectedly in store for me today. In Charleston, I had tried on my rain gear and went out in a pretty good downpour for about a 5 mile ride. All held up okay but I’m still untested in the rain.

But just as I was about to leave the skies opened and it was clear rolling all day. This day I had little to do with major highways as we rolled on secondary county roads, still busy and fast but with some shoulder consideration. My goal was to go 40 miles to an unknown state ferry service that was to take me and cars to Fort Fisher on the other side of a big river. Then I would ride another 20.

It’s all about waterways now.

So, I made it to a nice gentile ferry that had about 5 miles of river to cross. The landing was Fort Fisher which I later learned was the beginning of Cape Fear. This stirred in me a memory of the movie(s) of the same name, both are classics that should not be missed, The first one in 1962 with Robert Mitchem and the second with Robert DeNiro. Soooo sooo good as a psychological thrillers.

Long story short was the protagonist is a lawyer who might have done a bad job defending a psycho killer (Mitchem, DeNiro) is haunted by the same, years later as he is released. The twisted killer stalks the lawyer (Gregory Peck, Nick Nolte). I guess it was so good a story that Scorsese had to do his own version.

Anyway, the scene is a backwater area where a marginal lawyer and a revengeful killer parry at each other ending in an unforgettable houseboat scene. I’m here thinking I’m in the cast somehow. Both versions are worthy of a view and a comparison, Excellent work in so many ways, Guess this trip is getting to me.

Some memorable lines:

Still, things won’t ever be the way they were before he came. But that’s alright because if you hang onto the past you die a little every day. And for myself, I know I’d rather live.

You’re scared. But that’s Ok. I want you to savor that fear. The south was born in fear. Fear of the Indian, fear of the slave, fear of the damn Union. The south has a fine tradition of savoring fear.

Really, the area is quite lovely and more than calm and peaceful. But there’s always the storms here, the southern way and a chance that something can go wrong,,,

Robert Mitchem, Robert DeNiro, Joe Don Baker, Jessica Lange and Nick Nolte will forever make it a legend in my mind… https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0101540/mediaviewer/rm4016899584

I close on the upbeat and lively fearless scene at the Blind Elephant Speakeasy of the Cape Fear area, Front Street in Wilmington, NC. No kidding. In a turn from yesteryear. There are bars opening up that are closed to some. Unless you know about them. There’s no sign on the door which you would easily miss in this alley between buildings. Might be a Brooklyn thing. But, here in Wilmington you need to where it is and to join as a member for $1 then you can drink and mingle with the bar and the music. Don’t worry its a cool thing. Great atmosphere and creative drinks. Guess I drank to that!

Toby playing the keys at the Blind Elephant Speakeasy on Front Street

Serendipity Happens

Tonight I am in Calabash, NC. It’s just over the border. The reason I’m here is that I have to map out where I’m going based on two principles: 1) the direction I’m headed (toward Jersey, along the coast) and 2) distances of about 60 miles. I only needed to ride 40 or so to get here but this looked like a populated spot on my way to Wilmington and beyond. Not enough time to super analyze each stop.

One pleasant surprise today was that I arrived here at about 12:30 ahead of schedule so I had a couple hours extra to experience the area. The roads today were pretty good and much of it was along the ocean and very easy and chill. The other surprise was that this town of Calabash, where I’m staying, and the neighboring town of Sunset Beach are little hidden gems along the coast.

If you look at a map, like I did, it would appear that is is a backwater place but actually it’s a beautiful area of the lowlands. Islands intertwine here in an easy way that dissolves all the hustle and bustle and angst of the highways nearby.

My airbnb host, Rebekah, pointed out that I needed to see Sunset Beach, just down the road about 1/4 mile. So after I arrived I set out on my bike to check the area out. This is a special place with commanding views of the inlets and marshes along with manicured golf courses and even a gator observation area.

You’ll see a few pictures here that do not do the area justice. Its calm, peaceful, wet, wild and not overly commercial. There are wealthy communities among average developments. You can tell here that the people love and respect the natural area they live in. It’s just a little piece of the coast that is not known by many but loved by those that visit and end up living here.