To Charleston Hostel

I tried wearing my sweatshirt last night instead of using it as a pillow like I usually do, and I stayed warm until 6:00, half an hour before dawn.  I crawled out of my tent and onto my bike and was in the warm Waffle House in minutes.

It was not a happy morning at the Waffle House.  Near as I could make out, the shift that had just ended had left an overflowing dishwasher and a filthy grill for the new shift -- just one cook and one waitress to handle the morning rush -- to clean up.  The food was OK anyway, and I was glad to have it.

I followed US-17 all the way into Charleston, which was not my best idea, but the drivers were remarkably generous considering how little they had to offer me.  I'll take a better route out of town.  The day's ride was 63 miles; I could have stopped sooner, but Charleston's two hostels were calling me.

I went to the Historic Charleston Hostel rather than the NotSo Hostel because it had better reviews online.  It's a very small place, just 14 beds, and 10 of them were taken by an Alternative Spring Break group from a community college.  There are no vacancies tomorrow, so I'm going to the other hostel after all!

61.6 mi