Day 4

As we continue to play catch up, we thank you for your patience. With that said, he is a recap of what was possibly the greatest Thursday ever experienced by the likes of man.

Waking up bright and early in Mitch's room in Duke (Mitch-- you're the man, and thanks for a place to sleep, come visit us), we felt horrible and deathly alive and chipper as we made our way down to the car and packed up. We opted not to take Kazaz's taxi company, though their cabs "are very best," and instead hit the road with me at the wheel. The four of us snoozed until we made a gas stop in South Carolina, where Rizzo washed her feet in the bathroom sink and we ate a hearty breakfast of mini bagels and Arnold Palmer.

Back on the road, we were treated with an endless barrage of billboards for the world famous South of the Border amusement park/truckstop/restaurant/minigolf/fireworks store/mildly uncomfortably racist bonanza. We didn't stop. But we got pictures. 

Continuing into the heart of the South, we (or at least, I) marveled at just how friggin' perfect of a day it was, heading down 95 towards my illustrious and mysterious "roots." We shared a series of riddles to pass the time, which Rizzo proved to be both absurdly good at and surprisingly terrible at. For reals. She either got them in a blindingly impressive 3 seconds or a hilariously convoluted 15 minutes (only happened twice -- and she got all of them, so she was clearly the winner of the day). Fink even got one in his sleep, waking up just in time to get the answer. Just for fun, here goes -- A woman lives on the 50th floor of a building, and on sunny days takes the elevator up to the 30th floor and walks up the rest, and on rainy days she rides the elevator all the way to the top floor. Why? Prizes to the first person to get it right, unless you've heard it before.

As almost a split second decision, we pulled off on a quick exit and headed in to Savannah, GA to grab some lunch and hit the town. Couldn't have made a better decision. The azaleas and dogwoods were in full bloom, the sun was shining, and the city was hopping with people. We strolled under the Spanish moss taking pictures and listening in for accents, meandering our way towards Vinnie Van GoGo's pizzeria. While the pictures say it all far better than I can, it was a pretty damn beautiful day, as we passed giant chess games, children running through water fountains, and a cute girl doing terrible art that Fink went to talk to (before he knew the terrible art thing, unfortunately).

Unfortunately, Vinnie's was closed until four, and it was three, and we were hungry. So we went next door to Anna's, where we were lured in by the promise of green beer and pizza. Both were fantastic, as was our waiter, who we loved from the minute he asked "How are ya'll doing today?" Some like his accent more than others... Won't say who.

After a delicious meal out in the sun, we knew it was time to head back to the car and go meet our host, Sir Alex Lowy, on Saint Simon's Island. It was a short trip, and we unpacked and headed to the beach to catch as much daylight as possible while the Ultimate Team went out to dinner. Despite bringing books and towels, the weather was too much for us and we were overcome by the intense desire to "pop the steam," and kick some grubbers, until the sunset and fear of jellyfish (which were everwhere) stopped us. Fink took some incredible pictures, and I suggest you go check them out.

Even after the sun went down we couldn't make ourselves leave, and we lay out of the beach watching the stars come out and listening to the waves and Hunter Thompson's The Rum Diary's on audiobook. We took his words to heart, and shared a bottle of rum while we relaxed. To say we were living the life would be an understatement. Thompson had it right, that's for damn sure.

As Mess concluded his bathroom Odyssey, an unfortunately long trip that was approximately his 9th poo of the day (we have debated whether or not it is a healthy habit), we dug back into the sand and were paid a visit by a friendly army sergeant from a nearby fort. His name was Nick, and we got to know each other while his friends ditched us. One of the best parts of going on a trip like this is meeting people along the way,  and Nick proved no exception. If you're reading this, somewhere, we all wish you the best of luck in West Point next year, and who knows, maybe we'll run into you again some day. 

By now, however, the Frisbee team had returned home, so we said our goodbyes and treked back to the condo. After a couple of showers, much merriment was had with the Ultimate team flippen' cups, sinkin' shots, and watchin' Archer. Before I go any further -- many kudos to you dudes on the Frisbee team, and the hospitality and friendship. Roadtrips like these are only possible for poor college students like us if there are people like you along the way to make it possible. You guys (and I'm looking extra hard at you, Lowy), are, as the kids would say, the shit.

Rumor has it that people from the tournament were meeting on the beach for a bonfire, so we all headed back over. Unfortunately, most of the flammable material on the beach was, in fact, inflammable, but the night was comfortable and no one really seemed to mind too much. We lay back in the sand, and after several minutes of Mess and me lying lazily on the beach deliberation decided not to continue along the beach looking for something else. 

It was at this point that the group experience a split, with the sensible half going to acquire food (our previous dinner being a baguette with jelly) and lodging while Fink and I remained on the beach, where we dug a few cots into the dunes, built some sand pillows, pulled absurdly large thorns out of our feet, and went to sleep. Rather, we took a series of naps awoken repeatedly by being cold and/or sandy. Totally worth it....

....Because, come 6:30, the sky was beginning to brighten with the prospect of day 5. After shaking off our night and finding my lost shoes, we walked down to the sand bar in the hopes of finding some of the natural clay we had found the afternoon before. As we came across it, the sun tipped above the horizon, and day 4 was done.

Once again, I just want to thank everyone who has made this trip possible up until this point. The Finks, the Gordon/Janzens, Danielle and Mitch, the Hamilton College Ultimate Frisbee team, and now Jesse (flash-forward) -- you guys are all incredibly awesome, and I wish we could repay you with more than our fleeting company. I can't wait to see you all again, and this trip wouldn't be as great as it is without you. Mad Propz!

Much love,

Nick "Geis Geis Baby" Geisler

P.S.

I'm not exactly a numbers guy, but I think we're at 37 license plates.

There were quotes, and yet I have forgotten them -- I'll get on that.

And, if you are still having trouble with that riddle, I'm sorry. Go listen to some Rihanna or something.