South Carolina - like Norfolk, but flat....

MikeO

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Dereham, Norfolk, today...
10th February

Another bright, overcast and cool day. I decide against my initial plan to ride direct to Charleston and hit the back roads, using the GPS as an expensive compass, heading roughly North East. Almost immediately I come across a signpost for Sergeant Jasper Park – it turns out to be a pleasant woodland car park, but there is no explanation as to who Sgt Jasper was. Intriguingly, the sign shows a Union flag crossed with the South Carolina State flag*……

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I continue up the back roads, and, on a whim, I head off down a dirt road. At first the going is good, but there has clearly been rain here recently and I feel the heavily laden Adventure sliding a little under me. Nevertheless, 5 miles later I find myself back on tarmac, feeling a little more confident in handling the bike on loose surfaces.

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Near Holly Hill (the site of a Civil War battle) I stop and take a picture of an Episcopalian church, nestling prettily amongst the Spanish Moss.

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These churchs abound in this part of South Carolina, as do Baptist chapels. They are nearly always in immaculate condition, even when in the poorest of neighbourhoods. On Sundays they are very well attended.

Another whimsical moment – I see a sign for a Wildlife Observation Park. I’m slightly bemused by a sub-notice stating that duck hunters must present their licence before starting their shoot – can’t imagine that at Slimbridge somehow…..

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I follow the dirt road some 4 miles to the lodge, an empty cabin overlooking a large lake. I sit on a bench on a jetty or a while, relaxing in the complete silence. Feeling very chilled & relaxed, I get back on the bike, and, failing to listen to the sensible inner voices, decide I’ll ride on, rather than turning around.

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The track looks like it’ll loop around and join the track I came in on - right? Wrong :(. The track gets progressively rougher and muddier and the bike starts sliding regularly.

I keep going, confidently using my homing pigeon instinct – confidence which proves to be completely misplaced…. As I get further into the woods (these wetlands must cover hundreds of acres), I realise that I’ve lost my bearings and, although I’ve got the GPS, I’ve no idea where the tracks which will lead me back to the entrance are. I hear the distant twang of hillbilly banjos……

Eventually, I retrace my steps, avoiding dropping the bike more by luck, sheer desperation and misuse of the throttle, than by skill. I breathe a sigh of relief as I regain the blacktop and resolve to listen to the sensible voices in future.

As I enter Charleston, I stop and buy a couple of greetings cards and then visit a Post Office to send them to the UK. US Post Offices are quite different from UK ones – they deal almost exclusively with the collection & deliver of mail, rather than the ‘One Stop Shop’ approach of the UK ones. For just over $1.10 I post 2 cards to the UK, First Class. Further on I check out the prices of a couple of cheap (looking) motels, but find them a little expensive for the (rough) neighbourhood they’re situated in. I treat myself to a night in a Best Western ($49 + tax)……

I’ll look at visiting the USS Yorktown tomorrow…..

Edit

*Seems Sgt William Jasper was a hero of the Revolutionary War, killed during an assault on Fort Sullivan near Charleston, after releasing Patriot prisoners in October 1779. So now you know.


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11th February

I decide to take a day off the bike today and do the tourist thing. Managing to crack the Internet problem at last, I now have access from anywhere in the USA, albeit at 26 kbps at the moment (it takes ages to upload pics to SmugMug). I post the latest entries on my Journal and, ordering a taxi from the front desk, leave the computer up-loading 20 images (estimated time remaining – 2hrs 53mins :p).

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The cab turns up, driven by Bonnie, from Texas. She talks incessantly, usually making eye contact either over her shoulder or in the mirror. Now and again she glances at the road ahead and narrowly avoids a variety of hazards. Whilst she’s doing this, she uses both hands to eat a baked potato, followed by a bowl of chilli…..

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At one stage she comments on the fact that another driver is clearly not taking care over his driving, as he’s talking on a mobile phone. I’m amazed, and not a little grateful that the cab has seat belts in the rear.

Against all odds, we arrive safely at Patriots Point and the USS Yorktown. Named for the carrier sunk in the Battle of the Coral Sea, USS Yorktown was commissioned in WWII, de-commissioned just before the Korean War, then re-commissioned in time to be deployed during the Vietnam War. The entire Patriots Point area is a museum to Naval & Marine Corps aviation and warfare.

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From the Vietnam era, there is a PBR (Patrol Boat, River), which you may find familiar if you’ve seen ‘Apocalypse Now’.

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In the main hangar of the Yorktown is a collection of aircraft detailing the history of naval aviation, including the F6F Hellcat.

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On the Flightdeck (made of wood – which was one reason the US carriers were so vulnerable to kamikaze attack) is a collection of altogether more modern aircraft including the F4 Phantom,

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and F14 Tomcat.

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Amazingly, below decks I find an escalator installed. At first I assume this has been installed to aid visitors getting about the ship after it became a museum - in fact it was installed in the 1950s while the ship was operational, and served to convey aircrews to the flight deck rapidly…..

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Crossing the Cooper & Wando rivers in Charleston Harbour are a variety of spectacular bridges. These are about to be eclipsed by a gargantuan structure which is being built along side the others. I have no idea how tall the two main pillars are, but they dwarf the current (very high) road bridge. The picture does little to convey the scale of the project, although the size of the yellow tower cranes may give you some idea….

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I call the cab company and, to my dismay, Bonnie turns up again. She’s finished lunch it seems, and keeps one hand at least close to the wheel all the way back to the hotel, while she explains in gruesome and explicit detail the exact gynaecological reasons why she hasn’t ever had children. I leave the cab, feeling stunned and a little nauseous - so far into the ‘Too Much Information’ zone that I fear I may never find my way out…..

...but when I got to my room, all the pics had uploaded to SmugMug in my absence - which was nice. :)
 
12th February

Wake to a the sound of a heavy rainstorm. Seems today I’ll be testing the waterproofing on my Tiger Angel suit. Ah well……

I string out breakfast, packing and checking out as much as possible, but the rain continues.

I open the panniers to find a tablespoon full of water in each. Hmmm… I can’t help but reflect that, given the relatively simple purpose of panniers – to keep your kit safe & dry – Vern’s Worldbeaters have not been a success. Beautifully made they might be, but neither the Touratech Zega bags, nor the Jesse Odysseys cooked my gear or leaked….

I set off tentatively into the still torrential rain. The drivers in Charleston have decided to deal with this change in the weather by ignoring it completely. After about a mile, I bring the bike to a halt as a light changes to red. As I put my foot down, a pick up truck slews sideways into the junction from the lane to my left, all wheels locked. I give thanks that he wasn’t in the lane behind me and, as the lights change, move off.

My plan today is to ride North East to Supply, then turn left onto Highway 211 towards Lumberton. I’ve chosen this route because the 211 between Supply & Lumberton is the only road marked as a ‘Scenic Route’ in all of South Carolina.

The weather is truly miserable. My new suit performs well and is completely waterproof, but the rain is incessant and it’s bloody cold. Despite having the heated grips on ‘High’, my hands soon get cold. I reflect that the grips used to keep my hands adequately warm before the bike was rebuilt after my accident last Christmas. I wonder if fitting alloy ‘Pro-Taper’ bars affects the efficiency of heated grips…..

I ride through the rain along Highway 41 through the Francis Marion National Forest, a pretty straight road. Riding in these conditions leads one to ponder on things. Who, for instance, is Justin?

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He clearly has a sense of humour if he builds gates like these to his cabin.

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If you are serious about protecting your workforce in the road, could you make penalties for speeding any clearer? (I can assure you I kept to the limit here :D)

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In fact, penalties for all sorts of things are pretty drastic…

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Most importantly – exactly what is a ‘Solid Waste Convenience Center’?

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My imagination runs riot, especially as it is signposted in Brown Village……:gosh

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A little further on, I pass a field with 7 light aircraft (Piper Cubs?) lined up in it. They don’t appear to be fitted out for crop-spraying or anything and there are no signs advertising a flying school – must just be a collector, I suppose…

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I stop for lunch and warm up, but resolve to stop for the day at the first motel complex I come across. It’d be pointless riding a scenic route in this weather and the forecast is for an improvement tomorrow. I soon ride into Little River and stop at the Holiday Inn, which has a very pleasant room for $39:99, with free local calls (= Internet access :thumb). I soon get thawed out again and peruse the cable TV selections, the titles of which ‘will not appear on your bill’…:eyebrow

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