Saltwater Cowgirl
3 days on the road. 4 suitcases and 5 more random totes crammed in the backseat. The sweet sound of conversation fills the car as we drive north to Charlotte, NC. I’m sitting in the front seat, claiming my spot as passenger princess. This obviously puts me on aux, Morgan Wallen is undoubtedly playing. Everyone is exhausted from endless days in the sun, but rejuvenated off of a break from our day-to-day. There isn’t anything quite like the end of a road trip.
I vividly remember when I was 5 or 6, my family took one of our infamous trips to Yellowstone. As we drove home, I couldn’t picture what my bedroom looked like. The yellow paint was faint in my memory. I couldn’t remember where my window was or what wall my closet was on. The only images in my brain were the boardwalks, wildlife, and weird looking geyser pools. I remember walking in my front door and going down the hall where my bedroom was, and feeling like the space was more foreign to me than the open road. That was a blissful feeling.
Every time I’ve come home from any trip since then, I remember that feeling. My memory is much better at 21 than it was at 5 or 6, so I haven’t again forgotten what “home” looks like. But the feeling is the same. The comfort of being crammed into a car with the only belongings you really need and the people you make the most memories with. Having minimal space to move your legs makes it twice as fun, but then again maybe thats because I got the front seat.
Charleston, SC was never really on my radar growing up. Living in the west, I summed up the east coast into 3 categories: New York City, our nations capitol, and the great state of Florida. It wasn’t until I watched season 2 of ‘Outer Banks’ on Netflix that it really pegged my interested. But since then, I have felt drawn to the city and its beautiful beaches. So it almost seemed too perfect that one of my favorite people out here on the east coast grew up in Charlotte, approximately 3 hours from Charleston.
When the next long weekend was in our sights, we made our plans, packed, and hit the road.
The drive down was a trek. We left after work, and while we try to leave by 4 on Fridays, I don’t think we left until closer to 5:30. The 8 hour drive had us pulling up to our stop for the night at 1am. But even at that hour, our hosts were more than welcoming. There was food on the counter and drinks in the fridge, we were directed to the guest rooms and where we could find towels. It was the perfect conclusion to day 1 of our mini road trip.
The next day we left bright and early. When we arrived in Charleston, we picked up our 6th member and headed towards the beach. I don’t think I understood how slow life moves in the south until I experienced Publix for the first time. I spent what felt like 2 hours waiting for my fried chicken strip sandwich to be prepared as I wandered aimlessly through the grocery store. It was aggravating. I am used to getting in and getting out, going through the self checkout and minding my own business. The south values relationships, and I really like that. They don’t care so much about the quantity of things done in a day, but the quality of time spent doing it.
After we got our lunch, we headed to the water. I haven’t spent much time submerged in water. I grew up by the Pacific Ocean, and on a really hot day you could catch me going in, but the water is so much colder up in Washington that it wasn't a regularly enjoyable activity. But here, on Sullivans Island, my bright pink one-piece paired with my cowgirl hat with the neck strap tightly fastened plunged right in.
Wasting a day at the beach is so blissful. I find it so fascinating how we all just cram our beach towels around hundreds of families and friend groups, share speakers, play solitaire, enjoy a picnic, and run back and forth from the water. Nothing is more human than simply enjoying a sunny day. And nothing concludes a day like that better than a trip to the local ice cream shop.
I am a child when it comes to my ice cream flavors. You will always catch me going for cotton candy or birthday cake. But the ice cream man drove a hard bargain so I took a scoop of cherry vanilla in a waffle cone and kicked my feet up on his porch.
There are a million more stories about South Carolina that I could share. How we all matched on our way to dinner — wearing the same colors but in completely different fonts. How I finessed a free slice of chocolate cake from the waiter (which worked out perfectly because our next stop was to get coconut cake, and I am certainly allergic). How we took a golf cart to get through the parking lot of Brandon Lake’s church the next morning.
All of these moments turned into sweet memories, and I think it could have been a soft toss to a potential future story. I really liked South Carolina, and something tells me my journey there isn’t quite over yet.
Okay HEY! This blog post took forever to get up. I have been trying to find more time to write, but life gets in the way. I wrote it throughout this week and planned to upload it last night, but of course my computer crashed and deleted everything. All that to say, I feel like this one was a little rushed, but that’s because I have so much content in my head I just want to get out!! My goal is to write at least 2 more this weekend, so stay tuned and we will see if I can accomplish it. Love y’all, thank you for reading. <3
