Sixty-Nine. Biking Folly.

June 4, 2011 § Leave a comment

On Day Sixty-Nine, Patrick, Zach, and I rented bikes on Folly. Mike and his girlfriend Beth brought their cycles along with them and we set out to ride to the Morris Island lighthouse at the end of the beach, something neither Patrick nor I had ever done before. You can see the lighthouse from the beach around where we were staying, but previous attempts to make it as far as the beacon of light had failed. The furthest I had been on Folly was to the Washout, where the surfers crest on the waves.

Damon came along on an extra bike that Shane or John had brought, but unfortunately, despite the Schwinn written along the side, the bike was a piece. It made an unusual rattling and Damon seemed to be having quite a bit of difficulty on the clunker. It wasn’t too long before he dropped off and headed back to the house.

We continued along, pedaling and enjoying the breeze as the wind was at our backs. Zach blasted some tunes from his basket.

Mike had some serious skill as he poured himself a cold beverage while riding a bike. I did not attempt this feat. At all.

We arrived at the path that leads to the beach in front of the lighthouse. Cars aren’t allowed down the walkway, so the entire area felt incredibly restful and serene.

Mike and Beth insisted on a lover’s stroll picture. I obliged.

Zach quickly settled in to the sand.

Patrick and I walked along the sand, finding huge pieces of driftwood cemented deep into the sand through many tides.

On the way back, Beth used her mountain bike to jump over the speed bumps leading back to the road. Mike, older but not wiser, attempted to show his stuff in a similar move. Unfortunately, his thirty-three year old body wasn’t quite as nimble and he ended up busting it. Fortunately, I was the only one to see and managed to capture the moment. He walked away with only a bruised ego.

Patrick and Zach enjoyed the moment as well.

The ride back to the house wasn’t nearly as easy as the trip to the lighthouse. The wind was blowing fiercely against us. As we passed the washout with no protection on either side of the road I felt the burn in my legs as I struggled to keep up. And then I realized it wasn’t a race, and I could be as poky as I wanted. Zach and I listed to the Van Morrison coming from his basket and took our time, laughing as we passed the speeders who had made a wrong turn.The trip was an exhaustingly fun experience. The beach was gorgeous and the company easy-going and fun. A great sunny day at Folly Beach.

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