Musings from the Gypsy Outhouse

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Musings from the Gypsy Outhouse

After viewing a picture of our micro-camper with its sweet little tent set up (it fits in a groove inside of the van’s back hatch), a friend said, “why it looks like a gypsy outhouse!” Half amused and half offended by her comment, I thought it might make a good entry title! We haven't had a chance to camp yet as we are in cities and staying with friends, plus it is still pretty cold here at night (low of 15 predicted for Saturday night).

I know most people talk about coming home at the end of their journey, and having that feeling of “there’s no place like home,” but I felt it in reverse. Sure, it was a relief to finally leave home, crossing every last detail off of leaving’s to-do list. As we drove out of the driveway I was worried about how the house would do without us, and the important something that I left behind…

We left Saluda through the Greenville watershed, a vast expanse of protected mountain acreage, undeveloped so that the city of Greenville has a forever clear and clean water supply. Giant walrus tusks of wonderful icicles protruded from rock cliffs. Steve drove first, and I held the large travel atlas in my lap. We decided right away to take the back roads, and immediately got lost in our own back yard! Who knew that the rolling hills of rural Pickens County were so beautiful in the grips of deep winter! It was still better than being on 85 in rush hour traffic.

We drove through to the other side of Atlanta and found cheap lodging at the Key West Motel. Ironic because we decided to cross Key West off of our travel plans, opting for the Gulf Coast and more time in Baja Mexico instead.

Today we got the bicycles off the gypsy outhouse bike-rack and cycled along Mobile Bay’s Eastern Shore Trail. We are staying in Fairhope, Alabama in the home of a friend, Pinky Bass. The town is all a-chatter about the cold weather, but we just smile at the temps - a good 20 degrees warmer than home! Their tropical landscaping plants are all covered over with sheets and various creative things like umbrellas.

I leave you with a quote I found attached to a photo of my mother and Pinky standing on the beach: "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming… WOW, what a ride!" Maybe that will be our travel motto. Take care and write back when you get a chance

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Photos

Katie in Fairhope
Riding bikes in Fairhope where they take Mardi Gras and football seriously.