Atlantic Coast Tour
April 16th, South Savanah KOA, Geaorgia, to Beaufort, South Carolina

We get up early because we know that we have a long ride ahead. Last night we were tired so we did not put away all our food. The local raccoon helped himself to our cooler full of food. He undid the zipper and chewed through the egg carton, but that was about it. He did not like the boiled eggs so he left in disgust. The local sheriff came by and told us that it was going to be below freezing and he was worried that we would not be warm enough. We told him that we were from Portland, Oregon and used to it so not to worry.

The air is very crisp this morning so we are wearing just about all our clothes. The highway is a repeat of yesterday with bike route signs and rumble strips. We take a short cut since we did not stay in the state park last night. We know that we will have no home tonight so Louie called the local Sheriff who put us in touch with the local bike race organizer. Louie calls him in the morning and he said that he would call us back in a few hours. So Louie puts the cell phone in his front chest pocket of his jersey so he can hear it ring.

We are riding in a very technical area with huge trucks and extremly narrow roadway. At one point a pedestrian hails us over and we stop to chat for a moment as the trucks roar by. He asks us where we came from. When we told him that we rode here from Miami he says, "How could you do that? There are no sidewalks all the way from Miami to here!" He could not believe that we would ride in the road.

We take off and a few miles down the road Louie notices that the cell phone is gone. Back we go and find it in the spot were we were talking to the pedestrian. Louie puts it back in his pocket and zips it up thinking the reason it fell out was that his pocket was unzipped. Back out we go. At one point the trucks force us off the road into the sand. It is like Mr. Toad's wild ride as we careen through the sand. But we stay upright. Hundreds of huge trucks pass us one after the other and then we pass a couple of police officers searching some trucks. We are about five miles down the road and Louie exclaims, "The phone is gone again! I have a hole in my pocket!" Back we go past the police, and through all the trucks until we get to the sandy spot. Beck searches and finds the phone again. This time we tuck it away where it will not fall out. We cross the state line into South Carolina and snap a picture with Bec holding the phone. That phone sure wanted to stay in Georgia.

We fight a head wind for most of the day, stopping once under a huge oak tree for a snack and once by a river for lunch. By the time we arrive in Beaufort, we are beat. We pull into a dollar store thinking that we will have to eat mac and cheese again tonight when a travel angel appears. A fellow cyclist interested in our journey approaches us. We tell him about the campground closing and that we were eyeballing the field next door for an overnight. He says, "Just a minute. Let me call the wife." He calls his wife and then invites us to their home. They are wonderful people who open their hearts and home to us. They feed us a steak dinner that tastes out of this world especially since we have been eating camp food for sixteen days. I do not know how we will ever be able to show our appreciation for their help and hospitality. Tonight it means everything to us. We sincerely hope that they come to Portland to visit us so we can repay the kindness.

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