Yesterday I began to walk from North Myrtle Beach toward the border of the Carolinas. My walk along the beach the previous day had left a residue of gum and a sticky slime on the world. I don't really want to know what was in that fine sandy mix. I could see I would have to give the world a coat of paint to build up what the steady grind of the beach sand wore away. The fabric was showing through but I had to rub away the residue in the grass as I made my way up US17. I came to a bridge that crossed the inlet and walked up the approach to see if I had room to get across. Just as I realized I would need to roll off the highway and go down the bank to the roadway and short drawbridge I could then see from my high vantage point a policeman on a motorcycle pulled up. I told him my story and instead of checking my identification he said, "Good luck Brother." And watched as I rolled down the side of the high grassy approach. The drawbridge was much easier to cross and it led me along Old 17 where I found a place for breakfast, the people there where great, and then I came to something I had never seen; an old man selling sweet potatoes and turnips out of his pickup. I had to stop and buy a couple just because I wanted to talk. He wouldn't take my money for the sweet potatoes and told me to have a couple turnips too. I asked if I could pump some air into the ball with his lighter socket and as I pulled the cord out I left him a five dollar bill on his seat, a gift for later. No telling what falls off into the turnip truck! I walked on to where the old and new roads joined again and the wind picked up behind me. Before I had gotten to the state line I was just holding on to the line and walking stick I have connected to the spinners on the lacings, I was steering with the wind and not touching the world at all. For fun I decided I would see how long I could do this, after awhile I had to stop and wait for the wind to pick up to get the ball rolling, with patience I guided to world into North Carolina. I wondered if this was a state that posted mile markers as I rolled and rolled. I saw a green marker in the distance and thought how cool it would be if I had walked a mile without a hand check, a random push, to my surprise the sign was the third; I had sailed for three miles free hand! Soon the road turned to the right and I got back to business. I made my way to a McDonalds as it was getting late. My shoulders where aching and cramping. I could go no further. Just as I took my pack off and turned around a woman pulled in with her family and after a warm conversation she said she would see if her husband would give us a ride back across the line to get the van. I always say you have to have a little faith that things will work out. I had no prospect at that point and who would pull up at that exact moment but the Pastors wife. That will give most anyone pause... When I returned to the world I had received a text from someone who said he had seen me and didn't know if I needed help. I returned with a thank you and said I was taken care of. Moments later the man was there. He let me know how to get into town and directed me to the Wal-mart, a safe place to stay the night, and let me know of the rain due to come in the night. That confirmed my decision to let the air out of the world and put it in the van. I have to touch it up, do my wash and couldn't if the world was a ball of wet canvas.
After a great day of sailing and an inspirational end of the day I awoke this morning to find I was within sight of a laundromat and after getting my clothes started when I was walking nice for his morning business I found a dollar on the ground. I gave it to the attendant at the laundry. Life is good. I weighed myself in one of those scales this morning and have lost fifteen pounds, another twenty five hundred miles and I may be skinny.