I get my bags and strap them to the bike. I have my riding gear on as I drop my key off at reception. Now the clerk has arrived. As I'm just about to get onto my motorcycle, I'm not in the frame of mind to get all sticky. I fill up at the Exxon across the street.
Life is good in the morning.
It's still a bit misty, but light. The folks in the gas station are friendly. I enjoy that Southern accent. With 111 miles under my belt, I stop at Hardeeville, South Carolina. After feeding the bike, I'm in the mood for something myself.