36: turtle, the swamp fox, kyle and the ambulance, cowhead, writing with tar, tell me a story, keep door close

April 22, 2025

Blacks Camp to Kingstree

I saw this guy on the way to the main road. He wasn't coming out for anything.

This morning I passed the grave of Brigadier General Francis Marion but didn't stop. He was called “The Swamp Fox” because of his use of irregular warfare against the British during the war. He never commanded a field army or served as a commander in a major engagement but, even so, his tactics led him to be considered one of the fathers of guerrilla warfare, and they form a part of the modern-day military doctrine of the U.S. Army's 75th Ranger Regiment.

I don't know what they harvested, but there were only two rolls for the entire field.

Just past the Santee river I stopped at a convenience store for about an hour. Before leaving, I asked the clerk if I could fill my water bottles, and she took them back to top them off. Upon returning, she told me to get a bottle of water out of the cooler to take with me for the ride, yet another kindness along the road.

I also met a man named Kyle. He asked about the trip, and after leaving he actually came back to ask if I'm posting anything on social media. I passed along the CycleBlaze website and didn't realize until after he left that I really wanted to talk to him.

Earlier I had seen an ambulance pulling a trailer with some metal rails and wondered, "Is it still a working ambulance?" "Are they volunteers, or simply paid so little that they need to have another job?" "If they get a call, do they just unhook the trailer and speed off to save lives?" After Kyle left, I realized that I'm pretty sure he was the driver. If so, I hope he responds and satisfies my curiosity about what I saw.

what do they do with the rest of the cows?!?!?

There were miles of tar like this. I wondered if there were actually cracks to be filled, or whether they were just making random squiggles. I tried to see if any of them spelled someone's name or, more likely, something obscene.

I like this street name more than I should. Unpretentious, and likely with a good story.

You don't see these very often any more.

I periodically see this sign and wonder how well it's enforced. Prison?

The fresh air, present all day, felt like an infusion, and on occasion the aroma of manure, road kill, or woodsmoke rode slowly beside me for a moment - the latter not from chimneys but the smell from the controlled burn of a field. The humidity was 75% so above all, I smelled the rich, thick, almost palpable, odor of loam.

I checked into my hotel and was assisted by a gentleman in his twenties who was pleasantly high, as noted from the smell of marijuana sneaking its way past the small opening in the glass.

For dinner I walked over to Dollar General and picked up some cheap microwavable meals and retired to my room.

I had a hard time with the hinges, but was finally able to remove them. I assumed they meant to keep it close only while I was at the hotel, so I did leave it there. At least I hope so, because I really didn't want to take it with me.

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Today's ride: 40 miles (64 km)
Total: 997 miles (1,605 km)

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