Nahunta, GA isn’t much to write home about so let’s just leave it there.

I hit the road after breakfast at Subway. They cut my breakfast sammie in half so I could eat the rest for lunch. 

The route took me on River Road. I have no idea what river I was roading but it was a pleasant enough road with the occasional bad dog. One chased me pretty persistently until I looked him in the eye and BARKED at him. He was completely stunned by it and disengaged from the chase.

River took me past a private sector prison. It had more razor wire than I’ve ever seen. I’d have taken a picture but I heard bangs coming from a building and wasn’t altogether sure a shooting wasn’t going on. 

Folkston came and went. I diverted from the main part of the Atlantic Coast route to check out the Okeefenokee Swamp. The road to the entrance was no different than dozens of others I’ve been on. Pines, fields left where pines have been logged, cotton, onions, swampy patches. 

I thought about not going in then I said “You came all this way, you moron!” Did I mention it was hotter than hell?

So I went in. The access road is three miles long. I got in for free with my old person’s National Parks pass. I took a 7 1/2 mile ride on Swamp Island Drive.

It was swampy.

There was a 1 1/2 mile walk on a boardwalk through the swamp to a tower. So I did that.   Before I left I refilled my water bottles. They had a water fountain with a dispenser that encourages the use of reusable containers instead of throw away plastic bottles. Great idea. I rode out of the park and realized that my planned 71 mile day was now going to be 87 miles. 

Did I tell you it was hot out?

The next 15 miles were on straight road. This nearly always means rolling hills. Oh joy, let’s add some climbing to this madness. 

I arrived at the end of this slog near death. A candy bar was vaporized. Two bottles of sports drink simply vanished. 

I headed east to rejoin the main route. After I crossed into Florida I was hoping to see a welcome to Florida sign for a triumphant new state picture. No dice. I had to settle for a seatbelt law sign.

Right after this, I found a wallet on the side of the road. I picked it up and turned it on to a police officer who was on duty at a weigh station. 

They didn’t weigh me.

I headed north, then east again, back on the main route. Sucking wind all the way to my planned destination, Callahan FLA where the promised motel looked so skivey that I called a Comfott Inn 11 miles to the east and booked a room.

Now I was racing the setting sun. I couldn’t see anything but the sun in my rear view mirror but it didn’t matter; I had a wide, if bumpy, paved shoulder to ride on. 

I pulled in to the hotel pretty damned exhausted. My planned 71-mile day had turned into a 99.5-mile battle. My back hurts. My knees hurt. But my head is happy. 

Trip miles so far are at 1,342. I need to dial it back for a day to recharge my legs. 

Tomorrow I hope to camp at a state park on the ocean.