Leaving Bowman was easy enough, and I knew I had only a short way to pedal. I wasn't due in Charleston until Saturday so I had 70 miloes to split over two days pedaling. My destination was Givhans Ferry State park. I stopped in St George 'The town of friendly people' and blogged a little, as you have found out. From here I pedaled for Givhans. Following the signposts proved a bad idea. Although they suggested a shorter route, analysis of my cycle computer (still alive at this point) would suggest otherwise. And the wind picked up pulling 5mph from my top speed. This last 20 miles was to prove arduous.
When i arrived at the State park the first person i saw greeted me with a beaming smile and announced that he was the groom. Not the wedding i was aiming for, but hey! I shook his hand and offered congratulations. I was glad to see that he was nervous for all the right reasons. You could tell by the bounce in his every step that he was on top of the world.
He pointed me to the park office, and the park ranger was the architypal American ranger- a big friendly guy with a stridant voice and easy attitude.
I pedaled off to settle for the night, drawing stares from children on beach cruisers as to my laden touring cycle.
Morning arrived and the packing was leisurely. Aching and stretching has become a longer process this last week, but I felt as rested as I could be. I hoped the roads ahead would prove better as I wasn't retracing my steps back along 11miles of jolting gravelly asphalt.
My luck was in and the final part of state route 61 was being re-tarmaced and was smooth in most places. During the 1 1/2 mile long single lane controlled traffic flow, my chain decided to pop off, leaving me to fix the thing asap and wonder if I would make the end of the roadworks before traffic started flowing back toward me. I did, just.
The next 20 miles to the edge of Charleston were gloriously hot, calm and easy cycling. Here I knew would be the last leg of my journey. When you take a challenge such as this you can't help but dream of the finish. I had thought about cycling straight to the beach. My mind had me pedaling up to a group of my friends all playing frisbee, and dropping the bike to rest on the beach. Imagination rarely takes consideration of fact. I knew this wasn't a possibility, and that the roads from Charleston were all dual carriageway, busy and flat. Scenery that could be missed without regret. Coupled with this I had taken a look at the weather forecast. I would be between Charleston and Savannah when the thunderstorms hit, and had no idea how long they would last. Tornado warnings had also been issued.
You can understand now why I had decided that I would take a car from Charleston, via Savannah and a last couchsurf, to Jacksonville.
It's easy to get a challenge into your head and stick with it. I wondered whether I would feel bad at not cycling the last route. I remember the popular book (and less popular film) 'Yes man'. It's about a guy unhappy with life to decides to say Yes to whatever comes along. It certainly opened his eyes. Then I thought about the process of saying YES. To him it was a change from negative to positive. It implies implicitly and grammatically that to say No is to be negative. Not true. To say No to going out is also to say Yes to staying on the couch, happily watching a film and having a lazy day. My point...if this is what YOU want to be doing, then it is alright. I wanted to say No to riding the last stretch because there was nothing to gain from it. I was happy with everything I had done.
Then I smashed the cycle computer, and we get to the post 'Broken and Elated'.
The slightly disjointed narrative serves as an example of my mindset at the time. I knew before breaking it that I was finished, so why so upset? Had it marred the ending, the wide smile had been wiped from my face as I walked through downtown Charleston. I was both happy with my positive decision and distraught at my idiocy. I hadn't needed to remove the thing in the first place. The damage was totally avoidable.
And here I met Caitlin, Will, Emily, Jordan, Kat and later Nicole, Drew, Brandon et al. I have always enjoyed conversing, and along the trip I had ignored natural human judgement of anybody, preferring simply to listen and talk and meet people regardless of who they may be. So a bunch of strangers with an old surfboard became the people who ensured my finish was triumphant. The tour was about meeting American's and learning a new culture. In truth I did little more than say Hi. They met me rather than the other way around. Without even realising it (although I have since told them) these people hauled my tired mood away from the doldrums and set wind back in my sails. They epitomised my journey and reminded me of the goal closest to my heart- not the cycling but the experience. The broken parts no longer mattered.
We cracked beers, and having invited me to leave my bike in the house, have a shower and join them at the bar the evening progressed...towards a new, separate post!
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