thee istsfor manity reader

Surprise: St. Patrick’s Style

There’s nothing more Georgia than Waffle House… breakfast, lunch, or dinner / 24 hours a day… you know you’re in the Southern US.

Today’s very short ride looked mostly like this into Savannah, GA. The two shorter rides to avoid yesterday’s dangerous weather paid off. Clear with lows in the low 50’s (felt like 48 degrees with wind-chill to start.)

Only 20-something short miles later I hit Savannah proper.

Is that a preview of my Georgia exit and entry into South Carolina in the distance? Yikes!

I quickly found todays end point, but again I was way too early to check-in. Folks in Savannah, GA, take their St. Patrick’s Day festivities seriously. It’s the 201st St. Patrick’s Day parade in Savannah, and the second largest in the country. Thousands come from around the country and the world for Savannah’s party.

Note the green liquid in the half-gallon jugs… open alcohol containers allowed here (think like Mardi Gras in ‘Nawlins) there will be some soused folks, but everyone was pretty well behaved.

I didn’t plan to imbibe but I definitely intended to eat what my peeps cook. I found Rancho Alegre, a Cuban restaurant, just a few blocks away from my hotel.

And tomorrow I’m playing seriously at “tourist.” Believe it or not I’m taking a bike tour of Savannah tomorrow. Yes, I’ll bring my own bike and will tour with others renting theirs. Today was not the best day for touristing about as many roads in the center of the historic town were closed due to the parade route. (Hey, I get a discount for bringing my bike. Although I think I’m the only one taking the tour with a full tour set-up. I’ll leave immediately for South Carolina once the tour ends mid-day.)

To kill time until the Cuban restaurant opened, while staying well away from the parade madness, I took a cursory look around the historic district festooned with live oaks draped in spanish moss.

The azaleas are flaming…

… and the Forsyth Fountain water was dyed green in honor of St. Patrick’s.

Finally inside Rancho Alegre for lunch…

… ropa vieja, maduros, and black beans and rice—and I did imbibe—the local Southbound Brewery Cosmic IPA.

Guayaba and cheese empanadas for desert …

… and half for later.

After securing the bike and gear in the room…

… I’m off to see how the locals celebrate. This was a melange of musical styles—or should I say din—between three open air bars hosting three different musical acts simultaneously… huh? … what? … didn’t hear you!

Near City Market and Ellis Square modern music in a historic setting…

… and I just had to catch some of the parade…

… always a pleasure to see the National Bath and Kitchen Association’s float putting in a random parade appearance. Go NKBA!

… Shriners…

… at every parade everywhere.

The parade winding its way around City Hall.

A nice break away from the bike ride.

Parade-goers enjoying a cover of the Proclaimers “500 Miles…”

… the guy up front really enjoying it.

The smallest church in America one day, the smallest pub in Georgia the other!

So when in Rome…

… I broke down and imbibed… Oy!

Day 18
Start: Richmond Hill, GA
End: Savannah, GA
Miles: 25.70

Tomorrow Savannah like a tourist, and trek into South Carolina.

What I’m Listening To:

St. Patrick’s is our version of the Super Bowl…

— Riley Miller / News Report / WJCL-TV, ABC 22

The Forecast

Today was more a day of subtext and the undergirding weather motivation than enjoying the actual ride—which was intended to be fast and short. 

I’ve been hearing about a storm system making its way across the country since Jacksonville, FL—it was supposed to spend most of its energy by the time it got to coastal Georgia, but with massive systems one never knows.

I’d originally intended to bike the 50 miles into Savanah, GA today, but because heavy rain, thunder storms, and high winds were forecast to move in mid-morning. I decided to cut the mileage into two days, and do a very short 24-miles day to Richmond Hill, GA; and 26 miles in to Savanah, GA on Monday. Hopefully missing the worst of the weather especially the damaging winds and electrical storms forecast for 10am to 2pm.

So I got a pre-dawn start out of Townsend, GA.

 I studied the route carefully devising some “bail-out points” if the weather deteriorated quicker than forecast. I scoped out every Dollar General, convenience store, even churches (what better place for refuge than a church on a Sunday?)

I was into Riceboro, GA in 20 minutes. I was moving fast with a tailwind (yay!) for once.

And I pedaled into Midway, GA, 29 minutes after that… but that was it for sanctuary spots or bail outs.

If I had to bail out due to tornadic winds I’d have to wade into a swamp.

I was never so happy to see sprawl off an I-95 interstate exit than I was seeing the Richmond Hill, GA outskirts, just as the winds were gusting harder and the rain was starting to fall.

I can’t believe I’m done for the day at 9:15 am.

But it’s really starting to get ugly out. Gusts are up to 37 mph. 

I can’t get into my room this early—I’ve never tried to check into a hotel for the evening at 9:15am. But I’m happy to be inside as a Tornado Watch has been issued.

And one has to take these advisories seriously if they intend to bike another day…

… the weather is forecast to be fine tomorrow into Savanah, GA. But today is a different sort, and I’m not a daredevil.

While this storm is nowhere near as strong as it was yesterday — it’s still impactful storm moving east.

Day 17
Start: Townsend, GA
End: Richmond Hill, GA
Miles: 24.30

I’m safe. I’m out of the elements. My knee and saddle sores get two short days. I’m looking forward to an easy 26 miles in to Savanah, GA tomorrow.

What I’m Reading:

“It was unrecognizable as a home. Just a debris field… The floor was upside down. We were walking on walls.”

— Jim Akers, Butler County Coroner / “At least 32 dead in massive storm after new fatalities reported in Kansas and Mississippi” / The Boston Globe

Day 16
Start: Brunswick, GA
End: Townsend, GA
Miles: 43.65

The weather is forecast to be horrible tomorrow: T-storms, high winds and heavy rain. Instead of riding to Savanah, GA, as I’d originally planned—I’ll take a much shorter day to Richmond Hill, GA, to avoid riding in the mess all day… stay tuned.

What I’m Reading:

…the fact that we all go on pretending things are fine, hoping everything’s a-okay, even though everything is nowhere near okay and we all know it, no matter how many candlelit vigils you hold…

— Lucy Ellmann / Ducks, Newburyport

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week

I had exacted revenge. But for whom? For one act, or many? Against one man, many men or the world? I wondered if I should feel guilty. Should I have felt some pride in my action? Had I done a brave thing? Had I done an evil thing? Was it evil to kill evil? The truth was that I didn’t care. It was this apathy that left me wondering about myself-not wondering why I didn’t feel anything or whether I was incapable of feeling, but wondering what else I was capable of doing. It was not an altogether bad feeling.

— Percival Everett / James

You were so small in my hands
no shrapnel could hit you,
but the dust and
smoke of the bomb
rushed into your lungs.
No need for any gauze.
They just closed your eyes.
No need for any shroud.
You were already
in your swaddle blanket.

— Mosab Abu Toha / “[You were so small in my hands]”

I hope it isn’t true. If there is reincarnation, what we should hope for is to be reincarnated either as bacteria or as beetles, because they’re the ones who are likely to survive what we’re creating in the world.

— Noam Chomsky / Global Discontents: Conversations on the Rising Threats to Democracy

In March of 1859, 436 men, women, and children were sent to Savannah to be sold in order to pay off debts incurred by plantation owner Pierce M. Butler. This was the largest sale of human beings in U.S. history, known as the “Weeping Time.”

— Georgia Historical Society / “Enslaved People of Butler Island” / Interpretive Sign at Butler Island Plantation

I erased the world so nothing can find it, snuffed out the roses, red and hot as the snouts of bombs, repealed the polar ice cap, even that fat oxymoron, the “industrial park,” has disappeared. 

— Lynn Emanuel / “Plague’s Monologue”

Male blue-lined octopuses appear to immobilize females with venom during mating to avoid being eaten by their partners. Female Hapalochlaena fasciatahave large appetites and are about the size of a golf ball — at least twice the size of males — making sex a risky business. Researchers peeped six pairs of wild octopuses in aquariums, and saw that, during copulation, females stopped breathing, turned pale and had no reflexive response to light — known symptoms of the potent venom.

— Donna Lu / “Male blue-lined octopuses inject females with venom during sex to avoid being eaten, study shows” / The Guardian

When we are dancing we like to flip-flop
between Rogers & Astaire in this room.
When playing exorcist we take turns being
the cross & Linda Blair in this room.

— Jahan Khajavi / “An Organ That Vibrates You”

What I’m Listening To:

Get a dose of her in jackboots and kilt
She’s Killer Diller when she’s dressed to the hilt
She’s the kind of a girl that makes the
“News of the World”
Yes, you could say she was attractively built
Yeah, yeah, yeah

— The Beatles / “Polythene Pam”

Pancaked 

A better day begins with errant snaps, shot, and no flat tires in Georgia! Leaving Kingsland, GA,  in cool weather and a 20-foot shoulder. Yeah!

Appreciably smaller shoulder but less trafficked  and easy going.

Making progress Brunswick’s the destination today. Savanah can wait.

A lot of today’s trek looked like this. High speed but low traffic, maybe a dozen cars every 15 minutes.

There’s always room for a second breakfast. This is in Woodbine, GA.

What? A chocolate chip cookie can be second breakfast.

Crossing the Satilla River north of Woodbine, GA.

This is about 200 feet lower than the most memorable river crossing today.

Traffic is so light I can take the lane south of Waverly, GA.

Dollar General: good for a protein shake, a sit-down, and a bathroom break. Waverly, GA.

I hate these shoulders: half rumble strip that will shake the fillings out of your molars, and 10-inches of debris strewn luck o’ the draw. Today I saw carabiners, more bolts and nails than a hardware store stocks, spark plug boots, lighters, beer cans, and a flattened beaver— probably not thrown from a car, but certainly pancaked by one.

Almost there after this bridge coming… um.. er…

… mountain?! This picture does not do its scale justice. The Sidney Lanier Bridge—the longest and tallest bridge in Georgia—almost 1.5 miles long and 486 feet tall. Cargo ships pass under this span.

Near the apex looking southeast.

Downhill start looking north.

And quickly thereafter my turn off to historic Old Town Brunswick, GA, established in 1771.

Here’s a muster of American Wood Storks I came upon before riding into Old Town Brunswick, GA.

Central casting called, they want southern gothic.

My Air BnB for the evening is decidedly 20th century ranch…

… with BoHo beach inclinations. It’ll do nicely, especially since they allow the bike to be my roomie.

Good eats nearby…

… at the Yellow Deli. Good eats…

… and sweets: mango maté and tomorrow’s breakfast…

Day 15
Start: Kingsland, GA
End: Brunswick, GA
Miles: 44.10

Townsend, GA, tomorrow. Sweet dreams. Carrot cake bliss!

What I’m Reading:

I have lived on earth long enough
to know good luck arrives only on its way
to someone else, for it must leave you to the miracle
of your own misfortune

— Danusha Laméris / “U-Pick Orchards”