July 05, 2000

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I went to the local gas station and bought my standard breakfast (what I've had for the past 2 days, that is) of powdered donuts and grapefruit juice. Perfect, because the $2 breakfast gives me the $8 I need to repay the camping fee.

I finally had some time since my trip started to just relax, with AC power, too. I set up the laptop and hooked up the GPS, and was able to record a reading from the GPS to my laptop! I did some simple shell script (bash) learning, and I had a program to take a latitude/ longitude every minute, and output it to a file. I didn't get to test my 12V 120VAC power inverter yet, because I need a screwdriver to attach the cigarette lighter adapter to the inverter itself.

Took a shower in the dingy old bathroom at the campgrounds. Kept my sandals on, but wondered if it'd be better to build up callouses on my feet and just brave all the nasty floors of the various showers and bathrooms. As I left the campgrounds, I wondered what kind of living it is to run a campground where the patrons paid on their honor. Here's a picture of the campgrounds I stayed at, with the fenced stockyard in the background, and the RV power hookup with my laptop connected. You can also see the "Learning the bash Shell" book on the grass.

I hit 26S for about 15-20 minutes, and stopped off at an exit that had a Waffle House, which was in Summerville, South Carolina. I've heard people talk about Waffle House for years, and figured I may as well try it out. First, I hit the local Radio Shack to buy a small PL-259 cable to connect the CB to the SWR meter. I tested out the unit, and the SWR at first was 2.5 (1 is ideal SWR, 1.5 is considered okay). I could make it a 1 by tweaking a knob, but was I really tuning the system, or just calibrating hte meter? I thought I threw out the instructions, oh well. I heard some truckers and they sounded okay. I tried broadcasting simple messages to get them to respond, but to no avail.

Then I went to Waffle House. I lived up to the Massachusetts driver reputation by making a wrong turn into an exit-only lane of the parking lot. This made traffic behind me on the main road stop short, and about 5-6 cars back, one car smashed into another and shattered the headlight. By this time, I was already around the building, through the parking lot maze to the right parking lot. I figured the accident was only vaguely/indirectly my fault, as the cars were far enough back in the queue. It was pretty minor, and I don't want to deal with angry locals and possibly a cop to write me a ticket for the illegal turn. So I just went into the Waffle House and peered out the window. The two cars were pulled over, but there was no use in worrying about it now.

The folks at Waffle House were very friendly, and could tell I was a bit jumpy by peeking out the window. I just decided to relax and eat breakfast. ot some special which had a waffle, eggs, grits, and bacon. Not bad for a franchise chain. I had no idea if I should tip or not, so I checked the old dude next to me as he was paying. He was taking forever, moving like in slow motion, and finally left a tip. So I did too. Friendly folks worked at this here restaurant, it was a seemingly working union of a restaurant and fast food chain. Then it was back to the road.

I decided yesterday to save gas receipts for memoribilia, and also to keep track of how many gallons I'd purchase for my trip total. I then decided ot keep more receipts for other stuff, for the coolness of it down the line. But alas, I keep forgetting to get receipts.

Got to Charleston, parked near the visitor's center. Hid my stuff in my car, but wasn't as paranoid about it as I was in Baltimore. I hid the electronics under my hat and some books. Walked around awhile, and saw some lovely colonial, or antebellum, or whatever style houses all over.

This represents a failed attempt to photograph a cool-looking house in cool-looking antebellum architecture. It's blocked by Bushes and Shrubberies and Trees, oh my. I realized I had to spend more time here, so I moved the car to a non-metered spot. Walked around the malls, and hid in a bookstore during a brief downpour. Found a book there about off-the-beaten-path places to visit around the country. I tried to remember some cool ones that Hillary and I would pass as we travelled from Atlanta to Austin, but there were too many details and I kept forgetting. So I splurged and bought the book. It seems that every day has a splurge of some sort.

Charleston had much greenery amidst the scenery. Check out this cool shaded green park.

I then decided to drink a mint julep, in southern style, at some local bar. Trying to find a small good non-corporate place was more challenging than I thought. After almost leaving my wallet in a pizza joing, I finally found a homey small bar where the locals hang out. I made friends with one of the locals, Lee, who recounted the history and philosophy of the mint julep, as I ordered one from the bartender. (I ordered it as One Mint Julep, of course). The bartender, a bearded fellow, had to look it up in his bartending book, it was his first mint julep. Lee wasn't impressed, but ordered one too, so I wouldn't feel like "some damn asshole drinking a mint julep by myself". Although those may not have been his exact words. I also made friends with the other bartender, Charlene. I paid for Lee's drink, he bought me a beer afterwards, and I ordered a cheeseburger. Also spoke with a girl who's a student at the nearby university. This was probably the friendliest bar I've been in, making friends with these people in hardly no time. I spent about an hour and a half at the pub, it was some good times. I took a copy of the menu as a souvenir. Here's a shot of me, Lee, and Charlene.

Walked back to the car and passed Momma's Blues Palace. The dude at the door said Wednesday night is open jam night, so I had to stay to check that out. They had a Hammond M3 set up, which could be cool and exciting, I've never played or heard an M3 live before. I had a few hours to kill, so I did some laundry for the time killing. I think I may have overpacked, my large dufflebag is stuffed with clothes, and I've only used a few of them. [I've later realized this isn't true, most of the other clothes are for cold weather and hiking and other stuff.]

I went back to the Blues Palace. There was no cover, and I wasn't going to drink more alcohol because I'd have to drive tonight, so I got a coke. Asked some band members when I first came in if I could sit in on the organ at some point for the open jam, and they said it could be okay. I then met Pete (Kevin Peters) who was looking for a keyboardist for his blues outfit, and overheard me talking to the band. We sat down and watched the first set, which was the house band. Momma's Blues Palace is a family-owned joint. Momma was there, but not on the stage. Dupree, her husband, was manning the lights. Their son, Joe Joe was playing lead guitar. First set was standard blues stuff, but nothing really caught my interest heavily (except a kickass tangential surf-rock piece where the bassist took over guitar for a few minutes). At set break, Pete and I spoke about parachuting and piloting. I asked Joe Joe during the break if I could sit in on the organ at some point, and he said he could find a spot. Second set was the "open jam" set, but many songs went by, and they still hadn't called up audience members. It was nearing 1 AM, so I had to leave prematurely while I was still awake, to drive to a campsite somewhere between here and Atlanta. Here's a shot from Momma's Blues Palace, and you can see Joe Joe on the guitar.

I set up the GPS and data logger, and hit the road. I went back 26 towards Columbia, when I saw a sign for Rt. 526 to head to Savannah. I didn't want to backtrack, so I chose to go south, and go to Atlanta via Savannah instead. Took this route, but 526 shortly ended, leaving me on a more rural Rt. 17. It may have been scenic, but a night everything looks the same. An hour or so later I finally hit 95S, and took that past Savannah, to 16, which heads straigt for Atlanta. I stopped at a gas station at 4 AM, and caught up in my journal, and decided whether to sleep in the parking lot, or keep driving to another campgrounds. Rt. 16 had many fewer stops than the other interstates, so it could be many miles before a campgrounds.

I decided to sleep in my tent, so I got back on the highway, and after about 30 miles or so and alot of stopping and asking, I finally found a friggin' campground at 6 AM. It was an RV park, and I was just going to be there a few hours, without using water or electricity, so I didn't feel bad about not paying. In fact, I didn't see where I was supposed to pay. The sky was getting bright as I set up my tent. And I got bitten twice in the foot by some nasty little varmints, which left some red welts. I hoped it wasn't anything poisonous, and fell asleep around 6 AM.

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