Monday, April 25 – Tuesday, April 26, 2022

We would have liked to have stayed in downtown Charleston but the prices were untouchable and we’d already blown our budget on Jekyll Island. Instead we camped at a county park campground on James Island a mere five miles from the downtown. It was a nice enough campground, nothing special, but riding over the bridge to get there was pretty hair raising. That’s all I’ll say about it here. (See my daily log page for more details.)

We only had about 40 miles to ride to get to the campground and had a few hours to set up camp, shower, and relax before my cousin Georgine’s daughter Allie and her husband Jeff picked us up for dinner in Charleston.

Rob and I devoted the day Tuesday to seeing as much of Charleston as we cared to see. We love exploring cities on foot. The only drawback to walking around Charleston was that we had to keep our bikes with us, as several people told us that bike theft is prevalent in the city.

Our first task upon our arrival in the city proper was to find breakfast. Two people we asked both suggested a local place, Toast, and, happily, it was neither closed nor crowded. We shared an omelette stuffed with shrimp, crab, and mushrooms, with sides of a biscuit and grits. We’re trying to eat as much regional food as possible.

Our second stop was the Slave Market. Learning more about the slave trade was very sobering, to say the least. I hadn’t realized that slaves were brought to North America by the Dutch and did much of the work of building New Amsterdam (NYC). Several drawings depicted how the enslaved people were packed into the ships; it was truly inhuman. But what did lift my spirits was learning that the slave revolt at Harper’s Ferry was not the only one. There were many revolts and many ways in which the enslaved people worked to undermine the authority of their owners. We need to learn more about that history.

Of the 15 people who owned more than 500 slaves, 8 of them lived in South Carolina.

We saw a lot of horse and carriage tours in progress. I asked the fellow working at the Slave Market if they talked about the role that African Americans played in building the homes and economy of Charleston. He said no. I told Rob going on one of those tours would only make me angry so we opted to spend the rest of our time wandering the city streets, gaping at the beautiful homes, reading historical signs, and checking out monuments.

While we were eating breakfast Rob came across mention of a water taxi that would take us to Mt. Pleasant, where we had a Warm Showers host ready to put us up for the night. Skipping the adventure of riding over a bridge was not a hard decision to make.

The Slave Market had an extensive library of slave history for sale. I would have liked to have bought every book and probably would have except for not wanting to carry them on my bicycle. What I did buy in Charleston, though, was a handmade sweet grass basket. I’ve always wanted one and my upcoming birthday was the perfect excuse.