Another week. Another pit filled with adventures and stories to remember. Oh. and I hit my first big milestone this week: I biked a 1000 km since I left New Orleans. Only about 1500 or so to go. 
After leaving Panama City Beach, I was confident that luck would turn my way. It would, just not that day. It was the 3-flat day. After fixing the third one, I finally realized I should probably check my tire, and not just endlessly keep on fixing my tube. This was a good call: there was a big fat hole in the tire. Lesson learnt: when running a flat, always check if the tire is ok. Luckily, it was easy to temporarily (I will probably learn soon what temporarily means, somewhere in the middle of a forest or so) boot it with a one dollar bill – turns out those things are not just handy for strippers-.
I thought it had learnt what it meant to be hot, untill day 2 of that week. A 110 degrees (43 degrees celcius), with a 100 % humidity. It’s like biking in a turkish steambath. Or a sauna. I decide to hitch a ride to Tallahassee, where I was going to be couchsurfing with Carol in , a girl who is planning a bike tour in South-America. You can only imagine all the things we had to talk about! It was absolutely reviving to be able to talk to a girl like we had been friends for ages, I realized how much I had been missing this all these months!
The rest of this week was one big chain of unforgettable couchsurfing experiences (and of course, some biking 😉 ). The morning I left Tallahassee, was probably even hotter than the day before. No way that I was going to bike through this. This weather would make hell feel like a pretty nice air conditioned space. So, I try to hitch a ride again. I get picked up by Evan, a thirty-something single guy from Jacksonville. Perfect. That’s where I wanted to go. Evan turns out to be an amazing guy, since I didn’t have a place to go before going to the next couchsurfer, Evan invites me to spend the afternoon in his house, where we have the best sandwich I had in weeks. And later that day he drives me to Jay’s house.
I feel like this post is going to be one big listing of all the amazing couchsurfing experiences I’ve had this week. But that’s really what my week was like. There’s just no other way to describe it. I never actually met Jay, but his roommates were just adorable. 3 middle aged, divorced men, living together, and non-stop hosting couchsurfers. Isn’t that amazing? And Glenda, an older woman, in Saint-Mary’s GA. She convinced me to let her take me to Cumberland Island (of which I had never heard). Reluctant at first, I agree to go with her, and stay a night in the house she takes care of on the island.
Little did I know that a private house on Cumberland is about as rare as the white deer I spotted there. All the private properties have been handed over to the State, and there are only 5 left that are still in the hands of private owners. When these people die, the state will take these properties too. Imagine staying in a house, on the middle of an island which is a natural reserve. What an amazing experience!
As promised, Glenda drove me to my next destination (lucky me ’cause it was pooring rain that day – the kind of rain that would instantly drown my dogs). In Townsend, I got to stay with the Smith’s for a night. The next morning, son McKinley drives me out to Savannah, where he works. From here I work my way up to Walterboro (South Carolina), where I stayed with the more than fabulous couple David and Jorge. David told me about another hosting platform, just for cyclists: Warm Showers. I’m hoping to finally start meeting other cross country riders! Because to be fair, it does get lonely sometimes…
And here I am, couchsurfing again, in Charleston. The way here was one of the most extremes I’ve lived so far. I almost filed a complaint against google maps. I got taken from dirt roads to biking on a highway (with no other way to go) to biking on the East Coast Greenway (the biking trail that will hopefully take me to New York) to biking on more highways. I had literally never been this scared in my life. The number of near death experiences was fairly high yesterday, hopefully it will get better!
New York, I’m getting closer!
PS: I forgot to mention the name that was given to my bike after a couple of beers in New Orleans. ‘Casanova’, because no-one gets quite between my legs like he does.
thebyciclediaries 