Day 4: Happy Acres Campground to Reidsville, GA

May 16, 2008

42.11 miles, 3:14:53 Ride Time, 12.96 Average Speed, 26.5 Maximum Speed

Up even earlier this morning - before 5:00!. Storms were predicted for later in the afternoon, and I had a goal of reaching Statesboro (about eighty miles) before then. I got everything packed up quicker than ever, and felt pretty pleased with myself as I rode past the three young cyclists from yesterday, still sleeping in their tents. (My smugness would, of course, evaporate by mid-morning, when I bailed out on my Statesboro plans).

I stopped in Odum (pop. 414) at a local diner for breakfast. They had an all-you-can-eat buffet for only five bucks - all of my favorite artery clogging items, including sausage, biscuits, bacon, eggs, pancakes, etc.
After the breakfasts at McDonalds and Burger King the last two days, I was glad to be in a small-town diner. These places have so much more character, and are usually a better deal, too. There was only one other customer there when I arrived, an older man who explained the buffet procedure to me (the cook/waitress was occupied in the kitchen). Turns out he had recently bought a Trek road bike, so we talked about that for a while.

A few more guys (obviously regulars) came in, and the talk turned to alternative fuels, and the probability that Detroit was suppressing technology that allows cars to run on water. I mostly just listened.

An octogenarian man pulled up to the restaurant in a Kubota ATV, and walked in. Everyone was immediately deferential - "Good morning, Mr. Frank!", "How are you doing today, Mr. Frank?", "How do you like your new Kubota, Mr. Frank?" The cook/waitress emerged from the kitchen, hugged the old man, and asked, "What can I get for you today, Mr. Frank, honey?" (Of course, it was a buffet, but Mr. Frank apparently didn't take kindly to new-fangled notions like breakfast buffets). Mr. Frank (was that his first or last name?) was a such a dyspeptic old guy, that everyone's apparent love for him was puzzling. I amused myself by privately speculating that Mr. Frank actually ruled the town from behind the scenes with an iron fist, patrolling Odum in his slow-moving Kubota, while the townsfolk lived in fear of him.

I was roused from this ridiculous flight of fancy when I heard one of the men ask Mr. Frank if he had ever ridden a bicycle. "I'D RATHER WALK! I bought one of those things forty-some years ago for $75, rode it to the barber shop, and LEFT IT THERE!" Heh.

The breakfast was very good, and as I left, the waitress offered to fill my water bottles with ice water - nice.

I rode off into into the cool, pleasant morning, along mostly quiet back roads. I did experience the first little rolling hills of the trip, but they weren't bad enough that I had to use my small chainring. Eventually I started seeing signs for "Vidalia Onions", and I saw several fields where the onions were being harvested.

About thirty miles into the day's ride, it started clouding up, and I felt a little bit of headwind. I began to entertain thoughts of stopping in Reidsville, and getting a motel. That would make for a ridiculously short day, but I started to rationalize - Yesterday had been a long hot day, the camping the last three days hadn't cost much, so I could afford to splurge, I was really pretty tired, this is supposed to be a vacation, etc. etc.

I pulled into Reidsville (pop. 2,235), and the first motel, the Dixie, looked pretty scuzzy, although I have certainly stayed in worse looking places. However, it was closed for business. Just down the street, however, was a nice, freshly painted house with a "Hotel" sign. Hmmm. It couldn't hurt to ask...

It's important to listen to your body while bicycle touring, and right now my body was telling me to check in, at 10:30 in the morning, to an expensive B&B run by a nice English couple who had somehow ended up in Reidsville, Georgia.

The B&B also served lunch and dinner, so I had an excellent chicken quesadilla there for lunch, then slept for three hours. I woke up to the sound of rain, and felt some relief that I wasn't out on the road now, twenty miles from Statesboro.

Later, I worked on this journal, walked around town (it had stopped raining, although it would rain more in the night), and had dinner at the B&B.

I didn't want to get too close to "Wild Bill's Silver City", so it's hard to tell from this picture that *everything* is painted silver, and in addition to the rebel flags, he has "Pit Bull with A.I.D.E.S [sic] Lives Here" and "Never mind the dog, beware of owner" signs posted.

Bubba, the lesser known of the Kennedy brothers

The first motel I saw in Reidsville was no longer in business. It looked pretty seedy... even I might not have stayed there had it been open. I was later told that it had been shut down after some sort of police bust had taken place there.

The Painted Lady Bed and Breakfast, just down the street from the Dixie Motel.

Today's ride: 42 miles (68 km)
Total: 261 miles (420 km)

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