Days 29-30: I get by with a little help from new friends

On September 27, I arrived in the bucolic small town of Odum, Georgia, population 414, 70 miles south of Statesboro. Odum is a pleasant little town and residents seem proud to call it their own. One Methodist and one Baptist church face off across Church Street and an award-winning elementary school is tucked next door (As an aside, I may be getting old bc the swings made me slightly nauseated).

I had planned to stay at a campground just outside of town but discovered on arrival that it had closed two months ago. Gingerly, I approached Reverend Gabe Gill, pastor of the Odum Baptist Church (pictured), just after he completed his Sunday evening service, to see if he might allow me to unobtrusively pitch my tent out back. Having none of that, Reverend Gill offered me an air-conditioned building behind the church and unlocked church doors so I could use the washroom. He gave me a tour of the kitchen in case I wanted to use the microwave and have coffee in the morning and then left three phone numbers in case I had any problems. All this for a dirty, bedraggled stranger vouched for by no one. I also had the pleasure of meeting his lovely wife, Amy, and their three adorable kids, who were all curious about my bike trip and very welcoming. They embodied true southern hospitality and more.

I guess it's true what they say: when God closes a door (campground?), he opens a window.

As it happens, the next night's campground had closed its doors as well, so I stopped at a gas station in the town of Patterson for advice. It was recommended I should head to Nahunta (pronounced Nay-Hunna), as no area campgrounds were known but a small motel probably still existed there. Upon arriving in Nahunta three hours later, I found the Knox Motel darkened and locked. But two well-connected ladies at the Family Dollar assured me the owners were likely out for dinner, and went to work calling several friends and relatives. Not ten minutes later the owner was waiting for me at the motel, which, as it turns out, was really a very svelte little bed and breakfast outfitted with old, black and white family photographs and interesting antique knick-knacks. $55/night included a welcome bowl of freshly-sliced peaches and keys to the owners truck for errands.