Well, for what started out as a day I was admittedly dreading, it turned out to be a pretty damn good day.
Let me just start by wishing Betty Thornton’s mother in Blackshear a speedy recovery. I talked with Betty for about half an hour last night after I sent my post and her 88-year-old mother, after a pretty significant fall, is having a pacemaker put in today. All my best, Betty. Let me hear from you soon. (I sound like a character in one of Fannie Flagg's books.)
It was thunder storming this morning when I woke up. The guy in the room next to me had his TV going so loud that it woke me up. How rude! He must not be from Georgia. After checking the forecast, there was no telling when it was gonna let up. I was secretly kind of hoping for an excuse to stay put for a day of rest, but that would throw off the entire schedule. Come sunrise it had let up some, so I was hopeful it would continue to clear. Ta da! Wish granted. The roads were wet and it was cloudy, but no big deal.
My legs to start off were so stiff, even after stretching all morning, so it was rough from the get-go. I had hills again for about the first ten miles, but then mercifully it flattened out for the majority of the ride. I stopped and took a midway point celebration picture.
As I was riding I was chasing the storm clouds away.
And it turned into a beautiful day.
I think street names in rural Georgia are named after the people that live on them. I saw so many street names like James Bendmoore, Walter Crane, John Steinfeild (which I think was a typo). And whoever the Tyres of Georgia are, they lived all over the place. There was a Cecil Tyre Street and a Ben Tyre Street and a William Tyre Street and another Cecil Tyre Street (kind of like my brother Cecil and my other brother Cecil).
And I must reemphasize how friendly and accommodating the non-creepy Georgians are. Everybody talks to everybody and offers assistance to strangers like family. It truly is amazing.
Close to Folkston I rode through a small neighboring town called Homeland. This was my first view of it.
Sorry for the dark pictures. Again I'm limited now to the iPhone. Guess I should have downloaded a flash app. Oh, well. Lessons to be learned.
Homeland is a sleepy little town...literally. It was almost like a ghost town. I've never been anywhere more quiet. This is where the sheriff lives.
I guess he would be the head of Homeland security. Check out the city hall.
Talk about sleepy! Then I rolled into Folkston after a long ride.
I got in town early enough to walk around a bit. It was a little bit of a challenge because for the first time my motel is not really close to anything. So I checked in and unloaded Red. This is where I had my first pain-in-the-ass mishap. I had strapped a bottle of Gatorade on top of my brain bag. As I dismounted at the hotel and went to open the bag to get my credit card out, the bag was leaking fruit punch flavored Gatorade. I hadn't closed it tight enough. Of course I couldn't get the clear Ice flavor, could I? It saturated everything in there. Ugh. I had to take every single thing out of there and wash it out. Anywho, back to the story, instead of showering I just turned right back around and took a sleek Ranger into town so we could wander around.
Here's the county courthouse.
It really reminded me of the one in Back to the Future. I also appreciated the sign posted in front!
I started polling people on what I should know about Folkston, but realized pretty quickly that it was pointless. The only two answers I got were it's the gateway to the Okefenokee Swamp and it's the top city in the country for train-watching enthusiasts. Nothing else! Oh, they tried, but it was just scrambled-up words of the same answers. You might not be able to see it clearly, but here's a painting on the side of a building that encapsulates both.
Moving on, I made it to the area of town which celebrates the passion of the townfolks...train-watching.
I stopped by the visitors center and talked with Paula and Leslie there.
I really don't understand the concept of train-watching, so I was determined to get to the bottom of it. Of course I don't understand the popularity of NASCAR either, but zillions are fans. To me it seemed like the same type of thing...watching something going around and around (or down a track, as it were). By the way, during the ten minutes I was talking to the ladies two trains came by. The tracks run right through the middle of town. I asked how Folkston became the in spot for train-watching, and neither one could really answer me. After doing some reading it seems it really just happened because they have over 70 trains a day coming through. They actually have a platform called the Folkston Funnel where people sit and watch the trains go by.
So I went and sat up there with that guy in the picture. He's from Jacksonville, about an hour's drive away, and he comes to Folkston once a week to watch the trains. I asked him what the enchantment was. Paula had told me that people come and sit for hours and log the trains. I'm just thinking, log 'em? Like in a log? And then what? What do you do with the log? Well, Jacksonville dude (who shall remain nameless since I didn't ask him his name) explained that people log the train numbers down and by knowing the train numbers, they know where the train came from and where it's going. To which my response was...um, okay. While we were sitting there together, about 30 minutes or so, seven trains came by. I said, Dude, there have been like seven trains in 30 minutes. He said, yeah, there are peak times of the day. And they were going both ways! Imagine that! They have double tracks and the trains go both ways! So I decided that I was going to get the number of the next train.
And I said, Dude, where's the number? I didn't see a number. I mean, all the cars have numbers, but I assume those are just that...the car numbers. He said they're announced. And sure enough, lo and behold, the conductors are talking to each other or to dispatch or somebody and it's all being broadcast on a PA at the Funnel. So we watched the trains go by. Seven of them. They were LOUD! And then it slowed down and the dude left. I have to admit it was kind of mesmerizing watching the trains. Way better than NASCAR.
And then the saddest part of my day. Train Kitty found me. Just walked up the steps of the Funnel and rubbed on my back as I was sitting there and then climbed up in my lap and made her/himself at home.
Yes, it was a little Harley look-alike, just five or six months old. The sweetest cat I've ever met. Hangs out near the Funnel somewhere. I loved on him/her for quite a while. Didn't seem too skinny. I saw later someone had put out a can of cat food (that the bees were enjoying). I told Steve I would have ended my trip right then and there if I could figure out a way to save this kitty, but alas I was forced to walk away (with the inevitable tears in my eyes) and leave Train Kitty there. Of course I told every single person I saw the rest of the evening that they needed to go save TK. I hold out little hope.
After that I went to the Okefenokee Restaurant for an early dinner. It was recommended by everyone I asked. They had a buffet of southern homestyle cookin'. It was delish! They were of course fascinated with The Ranger. I swear, people must think I'm an alien the way they look at me when I pedal by. I've always gotten looks on my bike, but this is different. This is truly other worldly. They just don't know what to make of it all.
For the first time this trip I'm really disappointed with my motel room. It's your standard dumpy smelly motel room. And it's not within walking distance of hardly anything. Red and I are not only sharing a room...we're sharing a bed! Seriously, he's half on Steve's side of the bed. Hey, at least I'm not sleeping alone tonight! What the hell...we've been spooning and pretty intimate this entire trip.
Tomorrow's ride will be quite challenging. I've had my chunks of hills already, but this segment promises to be the hilliest of all. I'll have challenges for 30 miles or so. But thankfully once that's over, it really is over. I should be home free hill-wise for the rest of the trip as I approach the coast. 30 miles! And I'm gonna get it fast and furious, with the first major climb, probably the steepest of the entire trip, in about two miles. Those legs need to warm up early! But Shay's comments have really motivated me. Strong mom will prevail! Tomorrow is the only segment of the ride where I haven't made reservations for accommodations for the night. I originally was going to go to Callahan, but had difficulty getting a reservation...not because of being booked, but because I either couldn't reach the motel, the person answering the phone didn't speak English, or the most interesting...even though they weren't 100% full, they would not make a rez for me because they booked their quota of rooms they can pre-book. The rest are for walk-ins. I spoke with a woman this evening from Callahan and she said the only motels there are flea-bag types and it would behoove me to go on another 12 miles to Yulee, so I think that's what I'm going to do, assuming my legs can pump out another 12 miles after 30 miles of hills! They're really wearing out. I was served notice today that my quads have filed suit for reckless endangerment. I'll keep you posted on my final destination.
Okay. I haven't done any of my nightly pre-ride duties because of the Gatorade incident (I knew I should have brought the Accelerade!). So from the dumpy smelly flea-bag of a room in the Western Motel in quaint and charming Folkston, Georgia, I bid you a sweet choo-choo.
You are truly amazing!! I love reading your adventures and love it when I laugh out loud at your wit and humor. I admire you so much and one can tell you & RR are having the time of your life. Sorry you had to leave Train Kitty at the Funnel. Tell the quad twins to shush and you'll give them that massage treat later. Just think the smelly room could have had gourd decorations... be safe my friend!
Thanks, Mar. I love you and I miss you. You should be here!
I think it is very sweet that Harley joined you at the train station. That has to be a good omen. I think Train Kitty will be just fine. Don't worry. By the way, why do they call it a brain bag? Cycling term of art? I tried to call you last night but kept getting a "try your call later" recording. I hope you find a comfortable, clean-smelling place to stay tonight and may your next-door neighbor have hearing aids. I'll be watching for your tweets today. Be safe! I guess it would be pointless to say don't talk to strangers. How else are we going to know what's the best thing to know about Callahan or Yulee. I love you! Be careful.
I'm not sure why Bacchetta calls it a Brain Bag. It's just their selected name for it. Maybe it should be called If I Only Had a Brain Bag. Yeah, reception here sucks. I've had no service most of my stay here. Thank goodness for wifi! Love you too. Try again tonight. I'll be way closer to civilization (Jacksonville).
Keep it up, Motherp. I hope you're not too tired!
"I was served notice today that my quads have filed suit for reckless endangerment." - Quote of the day. Ryboy actually supplied me 84 minutes of shared talk time yesterday, in which he happened to deliver yesterday's quote...
Now, with the If-I-Only-Had-A-Brain bag, I confess my selective attention to your Wizard of Oz references (third time's a charm!). Though I have yet to confirm this, I will allegedly be a Wizard of Oz character for Halloween. I'll be the Toto of the group, I think. We'll see. I'll keep you posted, but thanks as always for keeping me posted...
Much love!