roadtrip from beach to beach down the east coast:

four girls. an suv. a tent. a jar of peanut butter. a bag of oranges. one bobble head lobster. a hundred feet of cameo rope. two ipods and an itrip. an slr minolta x700. no definite plans.

a week of summer in the middle of the last semester of my life.
first we were in pawley’s island, sc. stayed with my uncle pete and heard some good stories. on the way there we got stuck in traffic on an old country road. the traffic was this old man. on a moped. weighing a good 400 pounds. overalls and goggles and all.

from pawleys island we headed south. saw a sign for Folly Beach, and figured, why not check it out? spent sunday there. looked for empty houses we could tent at. but somebody told us about this really cheap campground where you could “primitive camp” so thats what we did. made a fire. and fought off this raccoon and fox that were co-conspirators in a plot to steal our marshmallows. seriously, they kept circling us. we’d throw a stick, they’d come back. the racoon would walk up real close, so we’d turn to chase that one away, and then the fox would be right there.

so from folly beach we headed south on 17 again, through charleston and beaufort and right by hilton head island, which actually made me pretty homesick for my childhood. i have such amazing memories of growing up there. on the beach with my dad. forts with davis.

south of jacksonville we arrived at hanna park. it is gorgeous. beachfront camping. [i’m ripping wireless off from an rv behind us] the beaches are beautiful and practically empty and i can’t tell you how good it has been for me to spend 3 days at the ocean. monday night we went into st. augustine to explore. i got coffee at a little shop and started talking to the guy who worked there. he knew people at Lu. he told us that if we came back later they were having live music. we did. what he didn’t tell us was that live music meant “rythm & rhyme” night. percussions and poetry. this guy goes to africa and brings drums back- and everyone who comes to hang out, plays them… jenna and i learned different beats- samba, congo and rasta. at the end we closed with marley’s redemption song. i thought i was hopeless. but the africa man said that if i could count to one, i had rythm. i can count to one. jenna was dubbed “rock steady.” katie and sharon hid in the back and drank coffee.
yesterday morning, we walked out on to the beach and there were five mexicans sitting on a blanket smoking hookah and playing cards. i almost went and joined them. hookah always smells so good. i was warned that approaching five men and asking to smoke with them may not be in our best interest. where is leslie when i need her?

beach all day yesterday. i prayed a lot and read and it was so nice to be able to do that without having things hanging over my head.

this morning we head south again. cocoa beach area. adventures yet to come.

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