Catching Up

I'm making these little updates as I pack my backpack for my Euro trip. I have been gone from home, working and traveling, since mid April. In the past 4-5 months I have been in a number of different places.

- NYC -- Quick Visit en route to CR --

- Costa Rica -- Surf Trip --

- Salt Lake City, Utah -- work training --

- Zion and Bryce National Parks -- work training --

- Canmore/Banff/Jasper/Calgary, Alberta -- work --

- Whitefish, Montana -- rafting the middle fork of the Flathead river --

- Reno, Nevada -- Burning Man Festival --

- Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, llinois, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina and South Carolina -- charity ride and cross country drive, both for work --

The last post started in North Carolina. I could try to catch up on everything but because I'm about to pack up and leave on another adventure...time is of the essence. We'll move on to just after Asheville, NC.

I drove the next day to Charleston, South Carolina, a city I grew to love quickly. Southern charm, great food, incredible architecture and a region full of US history and lore. But again, it's the people I met that made the experience all the more special.

I belong to an online service that allows you to search for people in thousands of cities who are willing to meet up with complete strangers for anything from a bike ride to drinks, even so far as to offer their couch to you for the night.

Sylvie, a native Charlestonian (bottom right) responded to my message saying "come on down we'll ride bikes and I'll show you Charleston!"

I called her from my hotel room in Mt. Pleasant the night I got in, around 9pm. She said that I should definitely come meet her, she had Pabst in the fridge and a bike tour ready for me. Her only warning was that she kind of lived "in the ghetto."

My (I realize cocky, now) response was that I lived in Oakland. I was assuming in my head that her ghetto was probably not a real ghetto. I was wrong. I rode my bike across the bridge and followed directions to her house realizing very quickly that most everything around me was turning into boarded up windows, street lights were becoming scarce.

I turned onto a street into her neighborhood and in the street are a bunch of dudes looking the part of the ghetto and staring me down. I'm on a silver bike in a dorky silver helmet surely looking a bit confused. Anyways, long story short, I thought I was going to get robbed at one point and took off down a one way street to get away from some people

. After considering just forgetting the whole thing, I took a deep breath and found the house, people still looking at me sideways.

I'm sure glad I found the house because I had a helluva time! Sylvie and her roommates were hysterical. Now, I can't tell you why they live where they do but it's pretty interesting that they do.

They took me on a whirlwind dive bar and bike tour. We drank, played foosball (see above), rode the battery along the water, danced to Ace of Base and generally reveled in the good time life is.

I also ate some good food while there. Breakfast at Charleston's Cafe (http://charlestonscafe.com/cafe/home.html) and had a country omelette, grits

and a sweet potato biscuit.

Now, that's living.

Mr. Tipton: No self respectin' Southerner uses instant grits. I take pride in my grits

Vincent Gambini: So, Mr. Tipton, how could it take you 5 minutes to cook your grits when it takes the entire grit eating world 20 minutes?

Mr. Tipton: I don't know. I'm a fast cook I guess.

Vincent Gambini: Are we to believe that boiling water soaks into a grit faster in your kitchen than anywhere else on the face of the earth?

Mr. Tipton: I don't know.

Vincent Gambini: Well, I guess the laws of physics cease to exist on top of your stove. Were these magic grits? Did you buy them from the same guy who sold Jack his beanstalk beans?

-- My Cousin Vinney --