After Hinesville, I wound my way up through rural Georgia, eventually stopping in Johnson County. Oddly, many towns in Georgia are incorporated as circles or squares. If you look at Google Earth, you’ll see perfect yellow shapes on the Georgian landscape that indicate town sites. You’ll also see some transmogrified yellow shapes, exploded like popcorn, where certain towns and cities expanded beyond their circular limits. It’s silly, if you like shapes and town boundaries as much as I do.
As rural as it is, Georgia highways are full of automobiles. Full of people. I always feel like I should be able to slow down, take in the scenery, but then there’s always the grill of a truck riding my tail when I look up. This is markedly different than western states. (Once, on a highway in New Mexico, I decided to pull over and lie down on the grass on the shoulder. I stayed there at least an hour, and only a school bus passed by. I never had to worry about other drivers either. I could go as slow or as fast as I pleased). Also, from what I can tell, you’re never in danger of running out of gas (unless you’re remarkably incompetent at interpreting a fuel gauge). Every tiny town seems to have its own gas station, and, if it doesn’t, the next town with a gas station is only a few miles away. I don’t know if this is a consequence of being off the Interstates or if it’s just that gas stations are really that widespread here.