We wandered into a show with a group from Colorado, Leftover Salmon. The show was alright, the location intimate, colorful, visually up my alley... The door guys let people wander in and out of the venue as the show took place without stamps or tickets or anything, so laid back in a way that no shows I'd attended in Portland ever were. (Usually you could not leave once you enter a show.)
We're checking out today, and headed to Savannah, only 97 miles down the road on highway 17, aka "Savannah Highway" in case of any confusion of the destination. We're headed to a state park down there. Justin went to undergrad in Savannah & worked there for several years afterward, so these areas are his old stomping grounds, and I'm lucky to have a knowledgeable guide along.
These days in the camper bleed one into the next. There's an inherent calmness in living a small portable life. It suits me, especially after the crazy rat race of Virginia Beach, and the VA.