urban bicycle journeys

I keep coming back to cycle through beach towns particularly because some, only some, have long street grids allowing cycling for miles and miles in a straight line through almost traffic-free residential areas. I had been to Myrtle Beach SC before and it is an acquired taste. Especially away from beachside residential areas and out on the nearby big highway US-17, the “Grand Strand” is a shrine to car-centered commercial sprawl and touristy schlock.

At my home in Chapel Hill NC decent sunny weather was predicted before harsher winter to come. Driving a little south might warm things up even more. Tootie had plans for our car so I booked a rental. On a Saturday morning I bicycled two miles downhill from our Chapel Hill condo to Enterprise Rent-A-Car. All they had was a sub-subcompact Mitsubishi Mirage. I had to fold the Bike Friday to fit in the hatchback, then drove the tiny car three and a half hours southeast to Myrtle Beach.

I parked in front of something called Old Time Pottery. Would anyone care if I left “my” car here for a day or two? I looked around for signs about towing, There were none here, although a quarter mile away at the Harbor Freight there were absolutely such signs. I unfolded the Bike Friday.

Myrtle Beach is quintessentially American in that there is always plenty of parking, especially away from the beach. Looking the opposite direction from my car this was the view of the same lot on a shoulda-been-busy weekday.

Most of Myrtle Beach is perfect for cycling but one rarely sees a bicycle. In residential areas those not driving cars have made a thing of golf carts.

I cycled up to Cherry Grove Beach, part of North Myrtle Beach SC, less than five miles from the North Carolina line.

From there back south it is almost fifty miles along the beach to Pawley’s Island SC. I cycled through peaceful residential neighborhoods, interrupted by maddening short gaps where a cyclist has to improvise to connect these street grids. I hardly saw the ocean.

At least on this trip, I DIDN’T cycle on a several miles long bicycle-dangerous stretch of crazy-busy US-17. Instead I drove that section with the bicycle in the back of the Mitsubishi. The map below shows the entire ride.

I cycled through neighborhoods on a lovely day with bright sun. Those building new communities here must be stymied to keep thinking up names. I stopped at the entrance of a subdivision flamboyantly called Castilla Del Mar. I pulled out the Martin ukulele from the back of the bicycle. I was King of the Road.

Cycling into the older “downtown” of Myrtle Beach at about five in the afternoon, I looked on Google Maps for my usual cocktail hour standby, a local brewery. There indeed was one, only one. Cycling up to this beer garden there was a large crowd listening to a musical group playing modern Christian music. This was a first for me! Everyone seemed to know the songs but they were handing out singalong lyrics sheets. On a musical level the band was quite good. For whatever reason, I did not join in. I drank my draft IPA off to the side at the bar, watching the Atlanta Falcons on TV.

I stayed that evening in a Hampton Inn, off the beach, but with really nice rooms and an at least edible complimentary breakfast. Because it’s winter there was hardly anyone there.

The Hampton Inn was also walking distance to Lombardo’s, although “walking” meant crossing busy US-17.

A year earlier I had visited Lombardo’s and was quite impressed; Italian-American food at a restaurant run by Albanians. Back then my bartender was French speaking from Quebec; this year it was a young woman of Mexican descent; she said the Quebec guy did not work on Sundays. Just like a year ago the scene was inviting without pretension; the same accomplished violinist Chris Cary playing next to the bar, an American flag on his amplifier. I would have liked his sound better without the electronics.

I chose soothing chicken soup as the included first course. My main dish was entitled Chicken Rollatini; chicken breast rolled up with vegetables. mozzarella, and prosciutto; then sliced and served atop thin spaghetti, topped with mushrooms and capers. Back in Chapel Hill we do not eat out much because I like the challenge of cooking every night. Here in Myrtle Beach, of all places, the food vibes were all in tune.

I cycled onward the next day. On one of those cut-throughs, this time in a neighborhood of mini-mansions I saw one of the few Trump flags for this trip; hanging over the pickup truck.

Biking through Surfside Beach SC, south of Myrtle Beach, is pleasant enough, I guess.

Business US-17 through the settlement called Murrells Inlet is actually a nice ride, with a bike lane and very little car traffic.

A little further south, near Litchfield Beach there is a delightful bike ride, a scenic five mile long paved path in the woods more or less paralleling US-17.

I stayed that evening in the Hampton Inn Pawleys Island. The next morning I biked back to the car which I had parked near Myrtle Beach. The Mitsubishi was still there.