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The Sand Chronicles Part 5: He is Risen

April 18, 2015 by patty lauren 1 Comment

“Everything is going to be fine in the end.
If it’s not fine it’s not the end.”  Oscar Wilde

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4.0 Part 4.1

Sunday morning 5:15am came too soon. Saturday had been a magnificent day well spent and today would be our last at the beach. We got ready and headed down to the church that was hosting the sunrise service. Naturally, I wore some of my best heels for this special day. Some things will never change. Now, the plan was to take them off when we actually got the beach so I wasn’t going to actually try to wear them on the sand. That would just be silly.

It was. SO. COLD. But, the kind of cold that’s exhilarating. We found a place on the edge of the shore where we could see the sunrise behind the cross structure they had erected for the service. It was truly breathtaking. I will never forget it. How amazing we are free to sing on the beach about our Savior’s grace and love. We are free to worship and we take it for granted every day. We are indebted to those who have served and those that have given their lives for us to be allowed to have these spectacular moments of unabandoned worship.

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I think this is my favorite picture I took the whole weekend

 

The message really hit home, too. We are part of Jesus. We are part of the resurrection and we have responsibilities. We are supposed to be set apart and different. It was a good reminder to something we too often sweep under the rug. I was glad the pastor spoke on something so relevant on one of the most important days relating to our Christian faith.

Of course, I would have to have a mishap. The tide kept creeping closer and closer and I must have had to save my heels from near drowning at least 5 times. Don’t worry, babies… Momma’s got you.

After the service ended, E and I hung around to get some actual sunrise pictures together!

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Did I mention it was cold? Of course E was prepared with a blanket.

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a photographer’s dream lighting. TAKE ME BACK!!!

 

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We got back to the condo, packed everything up and headed out. We had planned beforehand to stop over in Savannah for a couple of hours. E has never been and was eager to see a little bit before we headed home.

We hit Forsyth Park and had brunch at The Sentient Bean  (highly recommend – they have a generous and delicious menu full of vegetarian friendly options that are aaaaamazing.)

We walked through the park and I had a little rendezvous with some spanish moss. One of my favorite things about the deep south is the spanish moss. The way the trees line the streets and the branches come over the road and create this dreamy, draping canopy is one of my favorite views. It’s romantic and so southern. While I don’t sit around thinking about wedding plans too often I do think spanish moss, cotton blossoms and peonies would be really dreamy for a bouquet.

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After brunch, we drove over to the River Street area. We got some ice cream and watched candy makers at River Street Sweets making pralines and taffy. We saw a cargo ship and waved to some people on the top of it that looked like ants. Our time was winding down and every moment stretched a little longer… It had been everything I had hoped.

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Trying honey at the Savannah Bee Co.

 

Of course… this is not the end of the story. We left Savannah and about an hour out of town E’s all-too-familiar nonchalant voice says:

“Oh gosh. Your bike.”

“What about my bike?” I shot up from my resting position and looked in my side mirror.

“It’s falling off the car.”

“What!” Sure enough, one side was about 5″ from the pavement. “Stop! Stop the car!”

“I’m trying!”

We skidded over the rumble strips but it seemed like the longest stop ever. “Stop the car, my bike is gonna fall off!”

“I’m trying!”

So, here we are… on the side of the freakin’ interstate trying to get my bike back up on the rack and secured.

“We need to get off the road. We’re going to get hit by a car.” I am literally about to pee my pants. All I can envision is a car coming over and killing us both.

We got the bike back on the rack and pulled off into a weigh station to re-bungee cord the bikes. I am now an expert at using bungee cords. Need something bungee corded? I’m your gal. Need something duct taped? I’m your gal. Bungee cord and duct tape together? You got it… I’m your gal. I know how to use ropes and use them well. Okay, that sounds like an advertisement for something else. Bottom line… I can work some stretchy cords and tape.

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The Bungee Master

About halfway through the trip, I took over piloting our speedy red Jetta. I did mention it was speedy, right? We’re cruising on, making good time to get the rental back, jamming out to some tunes (the radio needs more diversity. I swear if I hear ONE MORE song from 50 Shades of Grey, I am going to go postal), when E suddenly says:

“Patty, how fast are you going?” She is rubbernecking to look at the speedometer.

“Uh.”

I honestly didn’t know. Look, when you are used to driving a 17 year old tank that does not have a Start/Stop button and doesn’t beep at you when you don’t put your seatbelt on and actually has to have a KEY to open the door the chances are you are not going to realize you’re going 100MPH when it only seems like 75-80.

I also have a problem with speeding. I admit it. I like to drive fast. I like fast cars and I cannot lie. There, I said it. Sue me!

“You’re going 100 miles an hour! Patty! Oh my gosh. I knew I could see the 90 mark from over here but I couldn’t even see the red line!”

Nobody was injured. Live and let live.

We finally arrived back to Chattanooga with about 20 minutes to spare, enabling us to unload the car and bikes. It was at the point in time I was stung by an unknown flying inspect I can only assume was a bee or wasp since half of its booty was still stuck in my hand.

And, as always, E was prepared and removed the stringer with a pair of tweezers. Someone get this girl a job leading the Girl Scouts. Seriously.

This concludes our beach weekend… I have come back thankful, rested, rejuvenated, excited, hopeful, and peaceful. I am 1/3 of the way through 30 and it has been one crazy ride so far. Here’s to the next 3 months!

_-83

until next time… xoxo, patty lauren

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Filed Under: Travel, Writing Tagged With: beach, friendship, georgia, hilton head, humor, lifestyle, road trip, savannah, south carolina, travel

The Sand Chronicles Part 4.1: Blood Moon Rising

April 16, 2015 by patty lauren Leave a Comment

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4.0

Let me preface this post to say I am right brained individual so while planning our last-night-at-the-beach pictures I didn’t bother to consider the sun was not going to be setting where it had been rising. Ahem. We got out to the beach and I was all, “Where is the sun?! Why is it over there?!” I could have spared you this detail to make myself look more intelligent or less ditzy, but where’s the fun in that? Keepin’ it real. I wish I could have snapped a picture of E’s face when those words came out of my mouth.

“WHAT? Patty, the sun is over there  – that’s where it’s staying.”

“Whaaaat!”

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It can’t rise and set in the same place. I’m pretty sure I learned that when I was 10 years old.”

“I’m old, okay?! 10 years old was a long time ago!”

Apparently turning 30 means I get to blame my lapses in common sense on my age. Hurrah.

However, in this case I obviously am aware the sunrise and sunset are not going to be in the same place and I should have thought it out better, but again… right sided. So, we just had to settle for the ocean in the background without the sunrise (oh the struggle).

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This picture about sums up our friendship

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Erika really liked taking pictures of me being “candid” – nutty is more like it.

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After we finished our photography session (I am sure we entertained plenty of beach goers running back and forth to the tripod to make sure everything was still looking okay) E and I were walking back to the condo when she said:

“Man, I am really tempted to jump into the pool.”

Honestly, I don’t know what was said after this but all I know is at some point between walking back to our room and actually getting into the room I had agreed to cannon ball into the pool. In the dark. And, it wasn’t exactly warm.

We tried to get the camera to record a video but considering it was pitch black by the pool and I’m not a videographer, we decided it was probably best not to have evidence of what was about to occur. For the next 10 minutes, I jumped up and down and simulated some boxing moves (still waiting to actually get to punch the living daylights out of an inanimate object) while talking myself into jumping into the pool.

“I can do this! It’s not a 40 foot cliff dive. This is easy! I’m a grownup. I can do this! I’m ready! Yeah! I’m ready!”

Okay, sidebar: E and I went cliff diving 40-50 feet up in the air off some jagged rocks back when we were in college. It took about an hour for us to actually jump. Naturally, E was all, “If Patty does it, I’ll do it!” What am I, the barometer for stupid antics? People think if I do something then it’s okay and they can do it, too. This is either good or bad. I haven’t decided.

E is doubled over laughing at me and grabbing my hand because she wanted to make sure I didn’t “abandon” her. She thought I was going to let her jump alone. Psht. Please. I wouldn’t do that…

So then I told her she needed to count to 3.

“1…2…3…” nobody jumped. This was going to take all night.

Back to the hopping up and down. E is talking about the Blood Moon and what if we die. Dramatics. I feel sorry for the poor woman sitting by the pool probably trying to have a relaxing evening. I’m sure she thought we were skunk drunk but this just goes to show you there is no need for alcohol when you have two crazy people at the beach.

We counted to three one more time and took the plunge.

Little tidbit: If someone actually gets me to do something like this chances are I want to push it a little further. For example… my new excursions into hiking has turned into me wanting to “just find some spot in the woods off the road to camp.” I get a little crazy.

So, naturally… I suggested running into the ocean under the Blood Moon. Now it was my turn to try and convince her this was okay.

“But, there are sharks!”

“No there aren’t. Sharks aren’t around here!” (not entirely true but not entirely a lie)

“Yes there are! Did you see how close those dolphins were to the shore?”

“Nah. Sharks aren’t going to get us. Come on!”

“You can run into the ocean but I’m not getting eaten by a shark.”

We started half running/half walking down to the beach. E was being practical:

“We need a flashlight.”

“The moon is our flashlight!”

You can see who is the logical one and who is the loose cannon.

We got down to the beach and I ran in first. I’ll admit once my body was halfway in the water I thought “okay maybe this is dumb” because then my imagination starts thinking about a Great White Shark grabbing my leg and pulling me under for his Easter supper.

We survived.

_-81

LOOK AT THAT MOON!

After traipsing back up the room we got ready for dinner and headed to The CharBar Co. for burgers. I got their most popular, The Champ, and some truffle fries. I thought it was awesome and would highly recommend going if you’re a gourmet burger fan.

It really was an adventurous day. We headed to bed late, full of new and fun memories and looking forward to an Easter sunrise service on the beach.

_-88

Part 5 coming soon…

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Filed Under: Travel, Writing Tagged With: beach, friends, friendship, hilton head, lifestyle, lifestyle blog, ocean, road trip, south carolina, travel

The Sand Chronicles Part 3: Sand, Sunburns & Cheese Balls

April 15, 2015 by patty lauren Leave a Comment

Part 1 Part 2

After waking up to a breathtaking sunrise on the beach and doing a little writing, Friday afternoon was spent doing the epitome of relaxation on the beach – lying by the ocean. E and I headed down to the sand around 10am – sunblock? Check. Music? Check. Cute hat in tow? Check. We couldn’t have asked for more perfect weather. There was hardly any humidity, the breeze was blowing and the temperature was in the high 70s.

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I’ve spent 20 years wondering what this was going to be like and in one of those rare moments in life it’s actually equivalent or better than your imagination this afternoon was perfect.

I also discovered there is not a strong difference between knowing if the crying you hear in the distance is a baby or a seagull.

We laid around until about 2pm and decided to take a walk down the beach. I’m a big people watcher so it was fun to see families and little kids playing in the sand together, people with their dogs, older couples holding hands walking along the beach… it seemed everyone was in a good mood.

We collected some shells and headed back to the condo to clean up a little and head to the pool. This is where I made a fatal mistake… I thought, “Oh, it’s 3pm I don’t need to reapply my sunscreen.” If my I’m-so-burned-I’m-purple backside could go back and tell my I’m-not-nearly-tan-enough-to-skip-the-sunscreen backside something it would be to rethink this decision.

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The pool had a drink stand near it so I decided to treat myself after being so diligent with my detoxing. Nothing like a cherry adorned drink by the pool.

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Naps in the sun. Plenty of time to think. Be thankful. Still be in shock I was at the beach, even if it was for just a couple of days.

Once we peeled ourselves off (literally) the chairs and trudged back to the condo, we got ready to head out in search of dinner. I had gotten it in my head that I was going to eat oysters while we were here. As luck would have it, none of the restaurants we decided on had them!

However, we did enjoy dinner at The Porch – oysters weren’t on the menu so I settled on some blue crab dip and fried green tomatoes. Fried green tomatoes and I go waaay back and these suckers were not flying away from me this time.

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The food was absolutely amazing. E got fried mac and cheese balls (aka: heart attack in a hushpuppy) which were like little balls of love. And, cholesterol.

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We drove around and checked out some places we wanted to visit the next day. After catching the sunset at Shelter Cove, we walked around the harbor. The weather was a bit chilly but nothing a warm sweater can’t fix. The sun had gone down and the stars were out – we talked about seeing ourselves coming back one day with families. One day.

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Friday was truly a lazy day… lying out in the sun all day zapped our energy and I was about 3 sheets to the wind because of my sunburn, so we headed back to the condo for some R&R before Saturday.

Part 4 coming soon…

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Filed Under: Travel, Writing Tagged With: beach, friendship, hilton head, lifestyle, lifestyle blog, road trip, south carolina, summer, travel

The Sand Chronicles Part 2: The Beginning of Something Beautiful

April 14, 2015 by patty lauren 1 Comment

(Shoutout of thanks to all of those people who text me all of the grammatical and spelling errors I make. ha!)

It’s 8am. I’m on the balcony of the resort, listening to the ocean, watching the waves, drinking coffee and eating oatmeal, and writing. I am now officially sorry to anyone who I have scoffed at in public or private when they talk about how awesome the beach is. Now I know what you are talking about and it is wonderful. Remember way back when I packed up GK and took off to Little St. Simons Island in December? That was my first time to have an actual beach trip. But, of course, it was in December so it wasn’t exactly bikini and bellini weather.

It has seemed like I was the only person who hadn’t been to the beach in the summer. Seriously. And, I’m 30. And, live in the South. Something is wrong with this picture. Naturally, I blame my parents. Joking. But, seriously – why did we never go to the beach?! I knew plenty of kids growing up who went to the beach every summer but not me. Oh, no. I was too busy going to things like basketball camp (you don’t even want to know) and hoeing our summer garden. Because what kid doesn’t want to pick giant zucchini and have their mother spray them down with a hose to imitate a summer full of sunshine and water while they’re running around in a tank top and too-high shorts? It’s the best we could do. One day I’ll share some unfortunate pictures of this said summer.

All that to say – if I ever have my own family, we ARE going to the beach.

Back to the beach. So, if you read TSC Part 1 you know all about how our fun little adventure started. We finally made it to bed sometime after 3am, but I was bound and determined to be up for the sunrise. I think E was planning on snoozing longer since we just had the longest and most adventurous day ever but she did say, “I’ll go with you. Just wake me up.” You betcha I’m going to wake you up! I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. I could barely sleep, I kept checking my alarm to make sure it was on so I wouldn’t miss this natural and daily occurence that just seemed more magical when you’re standing on the shoreline with sand squishing between your freshly polished toes (or not, for you guys).

Naturally, as any 30 year old woman who is really a kid inside would be, I was up before my alarm and throwing on clothes. I grabbed my camera and we headed down to the sand. This must be the feeling women get when they get proposed to – that feeling of never knowing if this day would ever come and now that it’s here you’re one big bundle of nerves and emotions and it’s a little overwhelming. Of course, I could be totally wrong but I imagine that’s the way it is.

The sun hadn’t begun to peek out from behind the clouds but thin, sharp streams of bright pink etched the sky. The blue hue melted in with the billowing clouds and encircled shades of orange and pale yellow. The sun was coming. It was a new day. There were seagulls and jellyfish. Moms and Dads. Kids and dogs. Husbands and wives. People alone. People together. For me, every sunrise and sunset is beautiful so I won’t say this was the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen but it was one of the most special. I am in such holy reverence of our world and our Creator. I’ve already said the feeling of being tiny and insignificant was humbling. And, truthfully, we could all use a little more humbleness. I know I sure can.

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We practiced some yoga poses (kudos to the fit beach babes who make it seem super easy!) E’s go-to was The Tree pose while I sunk down into a warrior pose. Ah, stretches.

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We walked and walked and I think I could have walked forever. We headed back to the villa and I got my little writing area together. The kitchen is fully stocked with everything you would need so I brewed a fresh cup of coffee and make myself some breakfast. I could get used to this.

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I do want to include some information about our wonderful resort and how I found it! I’m a big fan of HomeAway. I’ve used it several times and always had a good experience. Our villa is at the Hilton Head Beach & Tennis Resort. Amy, the owner I rented from, has been so wonderful to us and I would highly recommend checking out her listing if you think about visiting the area!

This is opening weekend at Hilton Head… it’s officially the beach season. Which means the poolside restaurant is open, the pool is calling my name, and the sand and I need to become a little more familiar…

Until next time… xoxo, patty lauren

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Filed Under: Travel, Writing Tagged With: adventure, beach, friendship, hilton head, lifestyle, lifestyle blog, road trip, south carolina, travel, Vacation

The Sand Chronicles Part 1: Once Upon a Time…

April 13, 2015 by patty lauren 4 Comments

Once upon a time there was a girl named Patty Lauren who had never been to the beach in the summer. She took herself one year after Christmas, but she was waiting for the day she could slip on a bikini and run into the Atlantic under a bright, warm sunshine. This girl was lucky enough to have a day off work for Easter Break and on a whim asked her adventurous friend E if she wanted to go to the beach for the weekend. So the two girls made plans and schemed activities for several weeks until the day came. Beach Day!

These two girls work very hard, but on this particular Thursday they were very antsy at work and seemed to have a difficult time concentrating. They chugged coffee and cracked jokes. They announced hours ticking down to 5pm. They (or maybe just one of them) hopped around their office in sweet anticipation of the closing bell to change clothes and vamoose.

Five o’ clock came and with it a heavy sprinkling of early summer rain. This was not exactly how they had hoped their beach weekend would start out, especially since they had planned on hauling their bikes on the back of their rental car for the 6 hour drive. But, it was BEACH DAY and this day no matter what happened would only be considered as “adventurous”. There would be no disasters for these girls.

Their first adventure started when they went to pick up their rental car. A Ford Focus was what they were going to be given (or something like it) – however, the only FF they had was a hatchback. Which would have been fine if they didn’t have their bikes. The bike rack. Yep. No go. What should have been a 10 minute quick pick up turned into almost an hour of frustr- sorry, adventure.

“We can give you a Volkswagon Beetle,” said the desk attendant.
“Oooh, let’s get the Beetle!!!” Patty Lauren exclaimed and clapped her hands together. “I can see us now cruising down the beach in our cute little car…”
“There’s no place for the bike rack, Patty!” E said, laughing.
“Forget the bikes – ditch ’em. We can rent bikes. Let’s get the Beetle.”

Clearly someone was having dreams of grandeur. After agreeing on a mid-size, more practical vehicle the girls were given a Volkswagon Jetta. A red one! Yeah, buddy. This was the next best thing. Although that red Mustang convertible across the lot called out to the them in sweet hushed tones. Alas, the Jetta would have to do.

 

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Our sporty little car

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How many females does it take to figure out a car is keyless entry? You guessed it – two. Here in this story we have two smart, well educated, raised in good families, and gainfully employed women who CANNOT FIGURE OUT HOW TO PUT A KEY IN A CAR. Let me tell you – no amount of jabbing a key into a non existent hole is going to start a car. Thankfully, it was soon discovered to have a Start/Stop button. In this party’s defense, the car didn’t seem that new. Our heroines only thought keyless entry was for newer more sporty vehicles. This would be the only time during their first day’s excursion that duct tape would not enter the picture.

 

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The Queen of Bungee Cords and Duct Tape

Once their sporty-non-sporty vehicle was packed with everything two ladies would need for a weekend at the beach… oh, wait. Speaking of packing everything two ladies would need…

“I brought candles!”
“This is not a romantic getaway…”
“Who knows! It could be…”
-crickets-

Anyway, back to the story. The girls were off… Patty Lauren took the first shift to drive. And, boy was this car made for her. Zippy all the way. What felt like 75 was actually about 95. Whoops. About 20 minutes after their first adventure, the second ‘adventure’ reared its head.

“Oh no, my bike is coming off,” E said, peering through the back windshield with a surprisingly calm expression.
“WHAT! Are you SURE?!
“Yep. Yep, it’s definitely hanging off.”

We will attribute E’s laid back demeanor to this near fatal disaster to growing up in the West. All Patty Lauren could imagine was bikes flying off into the cars behind them and killing someone. Okay, maybe there is some active imagination play going on, but still. It’s a real possibility!

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Emergency lights were thrown on and the girls slid into the next exit. A definite rearrangement was going to need to occur to remedy this situation. They weren’t even into their drive an hour and the bikes were having their own party. As your narrator of this story, I should mention now our character E has a real affinity for bungee cords.

“It’s too bad you don’t have any duct tape,” Patty Lauren said – jokingly.

“Oh I do! I have duct tape in the trunk. We can duct tape it on to the rack for extra security.”

Apparently, E also has a deep love for duct tape as well. In fact, her trunk contains every piece of equipment you could possibly need on a road trip. She’s kind of like the female MacGyver. So, not only are the bikes strapped into their rack but they are also bungee corded and now they are duct taped into the rack. Patty Lauren is watching the people stare at the two of them.

“We’re like sitting ducks. Someone is going to think we’re the dumbest people and follow us to the beach and murder us.”

Too many crime dramas. Once the bikes were secured (for the second time), the ladies were off again. It was about this time the topic of Cowboy Churches came up.

“It’s always been on my bucket list to visit a Cowboy Church,” E said with the same enthusiasm Patty Lauren would speak of a new pair of shoes.
“A WHAT?”
“What? You’ve never heard of a Cowboy Church?!” She was genuinely shocked.
“Um, no. What does that even mean?”

Enter Wikipedia and E’s vibrant description of what a Cowboy Church is. Someone missed their calling in some type of persuasive salesmanship career. Some Googling and searching led the girls to find out there was a Cowboy Church in their town. While they debated the “legitimacy” of a Cowboy Church in their area they decided plans must be made to attend. Look for that blog sometime in the near to late future.

Macon. Oh, Macon Macon Macon. There’s not a lot to say about it except you better have your running shoes on and I don’t recommend wearing a full length fur coat there unless you want to be followed down the street by some lovely gentlemen who think you have “the jams.”

Not far from Macon our two star characters hit another adventure on the road.

“My bike is hanging off again,” E said.

The way she communicates this information is like saying, “I like peanut butter” not “Some heavy piece of EQUIPMENT is about to fly off our car and you are already going 20 miles over the speed limit.”

“You’re not serious.”
“Yep.”
“Are you SURE?”

De ja vu. So, the girls did what any smart women would do traveling alone… they pulled off onto an unknown exit to fix the situation. One would think if there is a well-lit gas station that equals safety. Uh uh. Think again, my friends. The girls pulled up at this particular station and realized very quickly this was not the best place for a God-knows-how-long-this-is-going-to-take bike fix. But, nature called… Now, Patty Lauren was not sure if this was a normal occurrence in South Georgia but if men playing what looked to be slot machines inside of the gas station was on the up-and-up she was ready to get back home. Was it a slot machine? Was it porn? Was it some type of underworld gambling ring? We’ll never know because as soon as the girls were in, they were out and down the street at a “safer” location.

“Listen, if anyone comes over to us I think we just need to say screw the bikes and get in the car and leave,” Patty Lauren said, wondering if maybe her number was meant to be snatched up somewhere in Macon on a side road.

This time not only was E’s bike loose but it had busted through the duct tape and also broken one of the bike straps. This sucker was a beast. A half roll of duct tape, bike switch, and more intricate bungee cording they were back on the road.

The last half of this tale is rather uneventful. There was lots of snackage and some snoozes, but lots of oohs and aahs when that beautiful South Carolina sign welcomed them to a gateway of Palm Trees and the familiar breeze of ocean land.

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Finally! Three A.M. never looked so beautiful…

 

This will not be the last adventure our heroines encounter, so check back soon…

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Filed Under: Travel, Writing Tagged With: adventure, beach, friendship, hilton head, lifestyle, lifestyle blog, road trip, south carolina, travel, travel blog

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