38: fog, not a sign, mars hill, potato house, a chair when you need one, garmin gremlin, society hill

April 24, 2025

Timmonsville to Society Hill

When I woke up this morning my intention was to leave at 8:00, but when I went outside I found the fog was limiting visibility. As I ate my breakfast I considered what to do but, because I'm not very smart (this is a recurring theme throughout all my journals), of all the possibilities, simply waiting until it burned off didn't occur to me. Indeed, if be foggy now it shall be foggy forevermore.

Jeff Lee is a programmer, so before I left I decided to run a highly technical question past him to see if he could help out ("Is it possible to upload a .wav file of a bed farting?"). During the conversation I told him about the fog and he offered an ingenious solution, one that only a keen mind like his could produce..... wait until it burns off.

Today's route originally went through Mars Hill, just on the other side of Florence, but I ended up redirecting it because of tonight's lodgings. More on that later.

Although I didn't actually see the site, I think Mars Hill is close enough and, more importantly, interesting enough to mention in this journal.

You might remember a few days ago when I detailed how the US Navy dropped a nuclear bomb off the coast of Savannah, and they don’t know where it is.

In Mars Bluff, that didn’t happen. Instead, they dropped a nuclear bomb and knew exactly where it landed because the explosive trigger mechanism detonated, creating a massive hole 75 feet across and 30 feet deep. This was one month after the Savannah incident. How did it happen? As one writer put it, it was a “colossal act of carelessness combined with a disturbing lack of safety features.”

During a flight to England the pilot noticed a warning light that the bomb’s locking pin hadn’t been engaged so he sent the navigator to investigate. When the navigator reached around the bomb to pull himself up he accidentally hit the emergency release, then watched helplessly in horror as the bomb fell 15,000 feet, landing on Walter Gregg’s property.

Gregg's house, along with several outbuildings, were destroyed. Six people were injured, but in spite of the fact that Mr. Gregg was less than 100 yards away from the site where the 7,600 pounds of explosives detonated, no one was killed. He had to sue the government to get his house rebuilt, but ended up becoming friends with the crew of the aircraft that accidentally blew up his property. They remained pen pals for years, even after he moved away from Mars Bluff.

The term for a lost, accidentally detonated, or unintentionally fired nuclear bomb is a “Broken Arrow.” It’s a bit disturbing that it has occurred enough times for there to be a term for it and, it’s even more disturbing that it's happened 32 times in the US.

Image not found :( — This is really blurry, but I decided to post it anyway. I'm really curious about how a street got that name, and if there really was a Potato House.

I found this interesting because when a person sets up a chair outside, it's usually facing the street so they can see the goings on. Not this guy.

Ninety seconds before I took this picture I decided it was time to take a break and thought that I should look for someplace to have a seat... a picnic table or something. It's like the universe was reading my mind, because this shady spot appeared. I should've thought, "a soft cushioned recliner would be nice, with a cupholder that has a cold drink in it, and a fan blowing on me."

I have a love/hate relationship with my Garmin. I appreciate the fact that it has a map to show my progress, and that it chirps at me when it's time to turn. I hate the fact that every few days it stops telling me the turns, saving them up like a kid for a carnival, then prattles on for literally ten minutes: "in .1 mile turn left in 400 feet turn left in 300 feet turn left turn left in 3 miles turn left in 400 feet turn left in 300 feet turn left turn left...." and on and on and on. I also believe it to be the most user UNfriendly piece of technology ever devised, and I know I'm underutilizing all of its capabilities.

Today I was impressed at the battery life. When I bought it, I knew that solar charging had the strong possibility of being gimmicky with very little benefit, but every time I checked the power for the past four days (including this morning) it's been at 100%.... so you can imagine my chagrin when it turned itself off halfway through my day because the battery was critical.

When I turned it back on it showed 6%. The bottom right is the tail light battery.

I had to pull over and empty the front pannier to pull out my power bank (the electronics bag is heavy so it goes in the bottom). I put the charger in my handlebar bag and plugged it in. I considered using the dynamo, but wanted it to charge faster than that. At this point, I'm in the Hate stage with my Garmin.

Unsurprisingly, while I was unloading my bag, a guy in a truck stopped to make sure I was okay.

I had a headwind today (about 10 mph), which has been a rarity, and never smelled marijuana, only the second time that's happened on this trip.

"You were all I could think about out there." "The roar of your motor gives me goosebumps!"

Once I arrived in Society Hill (love the name), I stopped at the grocery store to pick up enough food for a couple of days. I'm taking a rest day, and the place has a fully-equipped kitchen, so I plan to sequester myself in this town of 430 people and try to get some blogs posted. Not considering that I'd need to find a place for everything on my bike, I got a bit carried away with the groceries and bought about 20 lbs worth, with a volume the equivalent of three plastic bags. Somehow, I got it all into the panniers, and somehow, I climbed the massive hill to my accommodations.

My accommodations for the next couple of nights are the Crazy Blessed Farm. I'll tell you more about it tomorrow.

My Garmin didn't record the ride, so I had to make this from the route instead of the actual ride.

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Today's ride: 38 miles (61 km)
Total: 1,066 miles (1,716 km)

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Gregory GarceauIf there's not a funny story behind the Crazy Blessed Farm, I'll eat . . . an anvil.
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