It took only a few hours of riding along relatively desolate Hwy 90 and onward along the Gulf (pronounced "Guf") Coast. The wind had picked up from the south over the water just enough to give a slight chill in the air. The option to turn inland presented itself at Gulfport and I headed toward the land of pines, sandy roads and some of that fine southern red clay. Pausing for a moment along the seawall, I relished the view of the pristine sand and deep blue water. Saying "Goodbye" to a body of water continues to be an emotional occasion for me be it the Atlantic, Pacific and many others along this trip. I woke up in a swamp forest in Bridge City, LA and wound up camping in a beautifu stand of pine in the De Soto NF. Pine cones as large as my head gave a loud "Whomp!" when they fell from 80 feet or higher to the grass around my tent. The familiar hoot of an owl and the din of tree frogs led me off to a glorious set of dreams as to what may be ahead.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Mike SaundersIn May 2014 I quit my job to ride a Honda Ruckus over 69'000 mi and counting. Wild camping most nights and cooking most of my own meals, I keep the costs low and the landscape changing. Archives
April 2018
Social |