Wednesday, July 20, 2016

7/15-16/16: A Quickie

After a week or so of being a beach bum, I got hot feet for travel again, and so the yogi was off -- though not for quite as long as planned.

Long story short: this one began as a long, regional trip through Florida and Alabama and who-knows-where, but, due to unexpected circumstances that I learned of only after departing, turned into a brief little caprice through the wilds of the South Carolina low country.

First yoga-stop: a pleasant Anytime Fitness in the south of Charleston.

With the Horny Manta Ray parked peacefully beneath a nice shade tree in the otherwise-concrete shopping plaza, I overnighted there (a sweltering, muggy night, contrasting the urbanly idyllic surroundings), then made use of the facilities for yoga the next morning. Success (albeit a repetitive, rather non-adventurous one)!

For all of the first stop's relative comfort and ease, the second was altogether different: a Wal-Mart parking lot.

It was a "going back to my roots," of sorts, since I had none of the amenities provided by my cherished gyms (not that a Wal-Mart bathroom isn't so un-luxurious; it just doesn't have a shower, or a lock on the door). Plus, this particular Wal-Mart was a totally unplanned stop, in a far-flung corner of the state, reached after a Thelma and Louise-style "pick a road and just drive." The night itself was far cooler than that previous, but only because there was a brutal thunderstorm (which, as it were, proved to be a magical experience as I camped in my van, eating and reading while inches of rain fell and fractal lightning tore through the horizon, even knocking out the Wal-Mart's power a couple times so that there were rare periods of absolute blackness -- fun fun fun). Thankfully, the next morning it had cleared off completely, such that I was able to yoga in the welcoming strip of greenbelt that circled the premises.

This yoga was, actually, a bit extraordinary, from a sheer "beautiful nature" standpoint (and, I suppose, due to my turning the heads of more than a few early-morning Wal-Mart shoppers). Though the angular hulk of the Wal-Mart loomed behind me, I was facing the other way, and so I saw this the whole time:

Groovy. Yum-yum.

And then, due to the aforementioned beyond-control circumstances, I returned once again to the SC beach, just hours away. Brief and domestic as the trip was, it proved to scratch my travel itch, and quite thoroughly as it were. I cherish the experience no less than my others, for all its brevity.

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