back to the hills!!

I woke up early this morning and greeted a gray, windy Birmingham. I parked downtown and went for a brisk jog around the city blocks. Birmingham is one of those silly cities that is laid out with number streets crossing number avenues; that is, 2nd St. crosses 16th Ave., 16th St. crosses 2nd avenue in an entirely different place, and so on. As such, I got rather turned around and ultimately frustrated with trying to find my way in Birmingham. I also realized how long it would take me to get to Charleston, and that Birmingham was a big enough city (around a million) to have a rush hour I ought to avoid, so I was on the road before the sun was high in the sky. All the museums I wanted to see didn't open until ten or later - more things I will have to save for a future adventure.

I'm going to attribute this phenomenon to being back in the hills, but everything seems to take so long now! Side routes and back roads which aided my speedy journey across the flat plains often took less time than the interstate - not so in Alabama and Georgia. I also decided on the spur of the moment to check out Athens, Georgia, which is not on any beaten path at all, and I improvised directions to it. Nevertheless, a trip which I anticipated to take four hours (Birmingham-Athens) took upwards of six.

I headed north on I-59 first thing. Out of Birmingham I had two choices to progress in a northeasterly fashion toward my first destination of Athens. I-20 heads reliably due east, so perhaps that would have been a better route. I-59, however, took me northeast to US Highway 278, which in turn headed due east through the town of Gadsden and a few Civil War historic battlefields.

The morning clouds cleared, and the sun began to beat mightily through the thick trees. Most of the trees in these forests are deciduous, but they are close enough together that the sun lit their brown branches. The further east I got, I found more and more evergreens curving along the hilly road, illuminating the woods with their color.

Continuing along US-278, I entered Georgia and Eastern time, setting me back yet another hour. I picked up GA-120, which led me through Marietta and Roswell. The hills beckoned, rising above me and in the distance to my every side. I was still far from home, but felt comforted by the hills. I neared Atlanta, and picked up Interstate 75 to the I-285 bypass, so I easily skirted the capital. I left the interstate and headed east on US-78, and instantly the hills rose again above me, bushy branches reaching skyward.

I wish that I could take a photograph of everything I see while traversing these highways. I will just have to further hone and practice my skills of description. Skills of memory, too, for as profound and beautiful as each bend, each ray of light through the underbrush may be, they tend to run together after a long day of driving.

My plan based on my map had been to take US-29 toward Athens, Georgia, but signs on the interstate instructed me to follow US-78, which I'm not sure why because it's a highway that is surface streets almost the entire way, whereas US-29 is elevated and goes a little faster. Nonetheless, it was a lovely drive into Athens. The sun came out, and I passed through a series of small towns with names reminiscent of colonial days - Washington, Lexington. By the time I reached the University of Georgia, I was ravenous. I had planned to eat a little bit of my granola while roaming what I hear is a pretty awesome town, but then I thought that it would be interesting to check out a local eatery. The kids at the UGA welcome center were extremely helpful, and I enjoyed a drive through the thriving campus en route to my lunch destination. I ordered a salad, which turned out to be the hugest salad I have ever seen. The clerk must have seen the famished desperation in my eyes!

It was an extremely windy day in Georgia, though the sun shone down brightly. As I continued eastward on US-78, the trees continued to enchant me, reaching toward the road and telling me stories of days past. Farmland began to appear, though, interspersed with the ancient woods. I saw cows and horses under perfect clouds in the sky. I passed a few plantations, suddenly remembering how far south of the Mason-Dixon line I was.

As I drove through the Georgia hills, my thoughts frequently strayed to Athens. Though I was still over 500 miles from home, I could taste it. It was a struggle to direct my car to continue traveling eastward, but I was committed to this adventure!

The day I played in the surf in Santa Monica I realized that, before this adventure could be complete, I needed to see the Atlantic. I had never seen it, and I wanted to watch the sun rise over the ocean. It was a little difficult to justify going a day's journey out of my way just to run my feet along the crashing waves of the Carolina shore, and more than ever on this absolutely perfect Appalachian January day. As I neared the South Carolina border, though, my anticipation of reaching the Atlantic coast grew, so I felt like I had made the right decision!

I followed US-221 to connect with Interstate 20. By this point, the sun had begun to set and I was still a state away from my destination! I observed the sun begin to set through my rearview mirror. The entire sky behind me filled with shades of orange and red, like the skin of a ripe mango. I crossed into South Carolina, where the speed limit was five miles higher and everyone around me drove more madly and boldly. The sun followed suit, burning a bright neon orange.

The interstates in South Carolina are counterintuitive because they don't run due north-south or east-west. Also, to the intrepid back route-wanderer, they seem like hardly the most direct route across the state. US-278, a spur of 78 that I had been on earlier in the day in eastern Alabama, seemed like the best route by far, but at this point I was over Route 78. I took I-20 in a northeasterly direction into Columbia, the capital, which led me to I-26 southeast into Charleston.

In the southern peninsula area of South Carolina, Charleston has a distinct beach feel to it. Images of television shows set in Miami danced through my head, and for some reason I had a hard time remembering I wasn't in Florida. Dreams of the Atlantic danced in my head, and I could barely sleep with excitement.

Today's mileage: 557. Total mileage: 4,716.