Mile 621
Rolled into town late last night, trying to get errands run with enough time to make it into the woods again by this afternoon. I really don't want to spend another night at the Holiday Motor Lodge. Its "24 Hour Tanning Salon" has a surprising number of pasty white day laborers as clientelle, and employs a number of twitchy deaths-head women. The poor South is awfully depressing.
On the plus side, it's now less than a month before I get a visit from my wonderful girlfriend Monica. It's a good reason to haul serious butt through Virginia.
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