Lost colonies, first in flight, and the motor lodge experience (still OBX)

I have noticed that people have a lot of OBX pride.  Both tourists and locals adorn their cars with white oval stickers with OBX written in it.  The locals take it one step further however.  The get vanity plates with the first three letters being OBX.  Normally a string of numbers follow which is probably randomly assigned to them.  This definitely helps the locals identify who the "lifers" are.    



First agenda item of the day: work on the blog for a couple of hours. Then I headed to Roanoke Historical Site that is on the grounds of the first Brittish colony in the New World.  The colony was established in the late 1500's and the island was chosen for its defensible position, friendly natives, and farm-friendly land.  I totally geeked out  in this museum.  



There were a couple things that I found interesting; the first thing being the lifestyle of the natives.  The natives (Algonquin maybe?) were primarily farmers.  They grew corn in the warm months and squash in the colder months to sustain themselves.  They supplemented their food with the year-round bounty of the ocean.  One of the ways they caught fish was by riding a canoe into the lake/ocean at night.  They would light a fire on the canoe which would attract the fish.  Once the fish approaced the canoe, the natives would spear the fish. I always think of native americans as being hunters, so it was interesting to see their farming strategies to sustain themselves year round.  



The thought of colonizing a far away land was also an interesting idea to me.  Most of the families that came over to the new world were skilled middle class families.  For some reason, I never considered all of the luxuries that they left behind.  I guess my modern bias always assumes that in the 15th century, all types of life were primitive, but compared to the wilderness of the new world, London had some things to make life much easier (butchers, fisherman, water wells, doctors, tailors, etc.)  Why would people leave all these things behind and risk the lives of their families to travel into the middle of the wilderness where no colony had been established yet?  What a crazy/ballsy decision!  In 16th century London, while some comforts existed, the city was very crowded and dirty (black plague?)  Most of all, there was no hope for upward social mobility of the middle class.  Most workers could barely afford to pay their lodging each month, and with the high price of living, a middle class adult had no hope of paying off their mortgage in their lifetime.  Obviously, there was no hope of a better future for their children.  In the new world, they were promised large swaths of land simply for making the journey.   This was  significant boost in social status for that family.  Still, a pretty crazy decision in my opinion.  



The last interesting thing about my Roanoke experience was the legend of the "lost colony."  The guy that organized the colony had not been able to return to Roanoke for 3 years after it he had setup the colony.  With the tension between England and Spain, the guy in charge had a hard time convincing the queen of england to send a ship for resupply.  Adding even more desperation to the situation, this guy's pregnant daughter was over there.  Eventually, he sailed over there (about a 4 month round trip by boat) and no people remained at the colony.  A maltese cross was to be lieft as a distress symbol in the worst case scenario, but no cross was ever found at the deserted colony.  The only clue was the word "Croatoan" carved into a tree.  



Theories for the disappearance range from disease and famine to attack by the Natives or Spanish.  Interestingly, I learned of an alternative theory while I was there.  Apparently, a hundred years or so after the disappearance of the colony, an explorer recorded in his log that he encountered natives with blue eyes who claimed their ancestors could "think with words," meaning they could read and write.  This theory supposes that the colonists, faced with starvation or disease, fled to another area and eventually assimilated with the natives.  I thought this was an interesting new theory to the mystery of the lost colony.



One final factoid that I didnt know about Roanoke Island, was its role as a freedmen's colony during the civil war.  Apparently, very early in the civil war, the union had captured and fortified Roanoke Island from the confederacy.  As Roanoke was well into southern territory, it was an important destination for African Americans seeking freedom from slavery. If the slaves could make it to the island, they would instantly gain their freedom.  The union even had a freedmen's colony there to educate the ex-slaves and teach them various trades.  Anyways, as a solitary union-controlled island in southern territory, I can only imagine the dramatic attempts made to reach its shores.      



Oh yeah, guess who I ran into at Roanoke....my travel buddy Tom from the previous day's ferry ride.  We talked about what we saw the previous 24hrs.  Good to see him again.



Nearby to the Roanoke Island historical site was an Elizabethan garden.  Admission was reasonably priced, and I loves me some gardens, so I decided to check it out.  The grounds were several acres, and the garden, containing a huge variety of plants, was meant to imitate the gardens grown by Queen Elizabeth.  The grounds were beautiful.  They even had a section with a hedges formed into a maze.  There were people setting up for a wedding. What a beautiful venue with the lush gardens on one end and the ocean on the other.  
















After these stops, I made my way back up the Outer Banks with my ultimate destination being the Wright Brothers National Memorial.  On the way, I passed through regions of the Outer Banks that have been the first landing of many ships approaching the new world.  These places have crazy names like Nags Head, Kitty Hawk, and Kill Devil Hills.    



The Wright Brothers Memorial is maybe the coolest and most inspirational National Park I have visited.  I got to visit the site where two Americans flew a sustained flight for the first time.  This invention would completely change the entire world.   One thing that blew me away was learning about the Wright Brothers themselves.  They were ordinary people who were smart and hard working.  Now days, if you were to imagine an invention that completely changes the world, you would think that a lab at MIT, a huge company with the smartest minds, or a billionaire with endless wealth would be the ones making the discovery.  Not true in this case.  They owned a bicycle shop in Ohio.  Just every day guys.   The Wright Brothers were ordinary guys that were intrigued with the idea of flight.  I learned that the Wright Brothers made several watershed inventions, and they came about these inventions through a methodical scientific approach.    



One of their important innovations was adding a mechanism to control the aircraft.  This sounds intuitive, but not so much at the time.  Furthermore, their control mechanism flexed the wings of the aircraft to change direction.  Pretty awesome idea. Apparently they came up with the inspiration for moving the angle of the wing in opposite directions to facilitate a banked turn by looking at the way an bike tire inner-tube box flexes when it is twisted.   



One of their most significant contributions was the shape of their wing.  To test many different airfoil cross sections, they built a homemade wind tunnel.  Inside the wind tunnel, they had several miniaturized wing cross sections that would move a weight if lift was generated.  In this way, they were able to test many different shapes.  Amazingly, they did this all in their garage, and the entire project was self-funded.  After they had discovered the wing cross section that generated the most lift, they applied this to the wings of their flying machine.  Additionally, it was not known at the time why a propellar worked.  They applied the shape of their wing to the blades of the propellar to generate a much more efficient propellar (basically a wing turned on its side).  The discovery of one of these phenomena by themselves would have been huge.  To make all of these discoveries, in their garage, is mind blowing.  Oh yeah, they also built their own light weight internal combustion engine to power the flying machine (this is 1900's).  Crazy.  

Wind tunnel replica



I thought this was a somewhat funny/ironic quote.





A model of their home made engine.

So how do the Outer Banks come into play in this saga?  Well, back then, the Outer Banks were pretty deserted.  The main thing on the island was a Life Saving station (people who wait for a ship to crash and then rush out to find survivors).  Apparently, the Outer Banks was a place they liked to vacation.  So near one of the dunes, they built a couple houses:  one to live in and one as a hangar/workshop.  I guess you could just put up a shack wherever you wanted to back then.  Also, the sustained winds of the OBX were ideal for increasing airflow over the wings of the flying machine.   After I had spent some time in the Visitors center learning how awesome the Wright Brothers are, I headed out to the actual site of their first flight.    

Mock up of their living quarters at Kitty Hawk. Notice the lofted bunks....every kids' dream.




Actual site of first flight.



Alternate view of the monument.





On the day of their first flight, they actually took 4 flights.  The field where they took the flight has four different stone markers indicating the distances of the flights.  The first flight was around 150 ft and took around twelve seconds.  This is super unimpressive.  I bet most kids could run that far in less time.  Each flight got a little bit longer until they last flight, and they went really far (relatively)!  Fun fact:  Orville Wright was an avid photographer, which is why we now have so many cool photos of the first flight.  

Markers of the first three flights.



The fourth (in the distance) was much farther. The distance of a par 4 golf hole compared to a fraction of a par 3 on the first three flights.




Guess who I ran into again......Tom!  We are practically running buddies now.  



Next, I wanted to climb up to the monument that was erected in the 1920's.  It sits atop a large dune next to the site of the first flight.  Unfortnately, they park was about to close in 15min, and rangers were stationed at all the paths leading up the dune and were turning people away.  I learned that the Wright Brothers never gave up, and neither was I going to give up.  I would get to the top of that hill.  My first attempt to get to the National Park took me down a road that led to an airstrip on the backside of the park.  I decided I would pull my car around the back and scale the dune from the far side.  It worked.  The monument is probably one of  the coolest I have seen.  Fun fact: this large dune had moved (blown by wind) almost 200ft in the twenty years between the first flight and construction of the monument!  Engineers stabilized the dune by cultivating local grasses on the hillside.    







Altogether, I think the Wright Brothers National Historic Site is one of the coolest National Parks I have seen.  I gained a deep respect for the Wright Brothers accomplishments, and I will be reading a biography on them as soon as I have time (maybe never).     



As I continued my travels, I was headed towards Washington DC.  I decided on a route that would take me along the eastern shore of Virginia.  This entails crossing the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel.  Thats right, this crossing of the bay is mostly bridge, but in some spots in plunges into a tunnel providing ships with a clear lane of travel. I bet it looks really cool during the day, but I was crossing at night.  It was still pretty awesome to see a string of street lights trail 15miles out into the abyss of darkness (almost impossible to photograph though; especially while driving).    



However, right before the North Carolina/Virginia border, I decided to stop off at a BBQ joint to sample North Carolina-style BBQ.  So get this....in NC BBQ is pulled pork.  Not a pulled pork sandwich, just pulled pork.  It is cooked with a mild amount of a vinegary/mustardy sauce.  They also had a variety of sauces to add onto the pork.  It was actually pretty tasty.  In addition to the pulled pork (absolutely smothered in sauce), I appreciated the hushpuppies, which apparently are an essential part of the NC BBQ experience.    







The east coast of Virginia is a small strip of land that protrudes down from Maryland, which is across the Chesapeake Bay from Virginia.   My goal for the night was to drive into Annapolis to find a motel.  It was raining off and on, and getting well into the night.  I told myself I would stop sooner if I found a reasonable place.  



On the side of the street, I saw a sign for the Rittenhouse Motor Lodge.  I slowed down to see what this place looked like (remember, I assume motels are populated by prostitutes and meth heads).  It actually looked really nice.  Probably even too nice for my budget.  I was on the phone with Kayley, and I told her I was stopping at this motor lodge.  Her response was along the lines of "Make sure its not like the Bates Hotel in Psycho."  Actually, it was reminiscent of the Bates Motel.  Before I walked in to inquire about the rate, I did a quick check of Trip Advisor.  They got pretty good reviews.  I guess the inn keeper saw a car sitting in front of the place for long enough, he walked outside to see what was up. It was an older gentleman in his 80's.  I asked if he was the proprietor, and he laughed and said "I hope so."  He seemed shocked that I would ask such a question, but I hate making the mistake of asking someone if they are an employee when they are actually a customer.      



Anyways, the rate was generally affordable ($70 for a single room).  An open door behind him revealed a bedroom.  I asked if he lived there, and he said he had been living and working there for 60years.  60  years!!!  Wow.  He told that the motel had several living quarters.  He said he raised his kids in that house and that his wife had died in the bed directly behind him (kind of macabre, but it wasnt weird).  He mentioned that he wanted to put me in one of the nicer rooms, but he wasnt quite sure if a reservation was going to show.  No big deal.  I looked around the small lobby to the hotel.  It had a very warm and welcoming feel to it, and provided a coziness that contrasted the persistent rain on the outside.  It was nicely kept and adorned with antiques.    



I felt very at home at this motor lodge.  Part of the reason I was drawn to this place was because it advertized itself as a "motor lodge" rather than a motel.  For me that harkens an experience shared by travelers at the dawn of interstate automobile travel; when motor lodges were constructed to cater to travelers that needed a place to rest from a long day on route 66 (although route 66 was not close to here).  Rather than a creepy Bates Motel feel, I got a Twilight Zone feel.  One of the happy upbeat episodes, not Psycho/creepy at all.  If this place was 60years old, I was experiencing an authentic vintage motor lodge experience.  I was pretty thrilled about it.  



The guy at the front desk seemed so welcoming and I was so giddy about staying at this motel, that I went back to the front desk to ask the owner if I could see one of the nicer rooms and take a picture of it for my blog.  The owner said he would be more than happy to oblige.  He also invited me to set on his porch and share a beer with him.  I was more than happy to accept his invitaion.  



Apparently, he calls the porch his "magical porch."  He calls it his magical porch because it allows him to meet exciting people (it has made some pretty amazing connections in his life) all while sitting on his porch.  The spacious porch is very nicely decorated with plants and has ample furniture for lounging.  In addition to a beer, he had bugspray readily available to ward off the bugs.  As we sat and talked, he told me about how he cleared this field 60 years ago to build this motel after his service in the Navy.  He told me about how he married and raised three kids in this house, and how his wife had left this earth a little too early.  He told me about his time as a teacher in the neighboring community, and the two local kids that he adopted well into his 50's and 60's (as a single father).  He told me stories about how the surrounding area had changed, but he had survived the competition from other hotels and how online services like TripAdvisor and Yelp were a blessing and a curse.  Also, he shared some interesting stories from his life, like the time he attended a state dinner at the WhiteHouse (through a friend in high places), and got to meet people like Queen Elizabeth and Shirley Temple (apparently Ambassador Temple was not the most humble person).  After his story about Quenn Elizabeth, he hurried inside and brought out this framed picture of him hanging out with the Queen.  I laughed.  Well, if you are going to tell a tall tale, you might as well prove it!  As we sat and talked for about an hour and a half, he kept emphasizing that he has found the only thing in life that can produce true happiness is helping other people.  It was a particularly powerful message given his apparent long life of selfless service.    



At the end of the conversation, I went back to my room.  He said that he was very thankful for the company, and that chatting with people on the magical porch was what makes life worth living.   I have to say, it was a very genuine and heartfelt experience sharing a beer with this man on his porch.  As a matter of fact, I googled the man's name (Robert Rittenhouse) to see what other people's experience was like at this place.  I found an article written by a small town paper where a gentleman had a very similar experinece.      

http://www.timesdispatch.com/travel/paradise-on-u-s----nightly-rates/article_eeb315c7-d754-5b70-9777-3e6d60bd38f4.html?mode=jqm

Not the most flattering angle, but its all I could manage.



The next morning (Sunday), I woke up and checked out of the motel. I actually felt a little bit sad that I had to leave so soon. Mr. Rittenhouse expressed again his appreciation of our conversation the night before.  I assured him that the feeling was more than mutal.  I felt like I got to live out one of those aforementioned happy Twilight Zone episodes.  I am not sure of my account of this experience does it justice, but it will definitely be one of most treasured memories from the trip.  



Next up:  DC, baby.

The OBX (Outer Banks, NC)

I slept very comfortably at Neuse's River.  Before the trip, I bought a self-inflating Thermarest sleeping mat from REI.  It doesnt actually "inflate" itself, but it has air pockets that equilibrate with the outside air in addition to a honey comb like infrastructure.  Although it isnt big (almost exactly the size of my body while laying down) or as tall as an airmatress (only about 1.5in thick), it is suprisingly comfortable.  I also appreciate how compact and easy to setup the sleeping pad is (if you blow into the pad rather than letting it self inflate, it takes about a minute).    


I woke up and walked back to the beach to enjoy the view.  I always enjoy checking out beaches at sunset and sunrise.  Most of the time there are less people at the beach at sunrise.    




I got in the trusty old van and headed towards the ferry that would take me to the Outer Banks.  Along the way I enjoyed the view of the NC coast.  Because this area of the coast is protected by barrier islands, the coast isnt a traditional beach.  I dont exactly know the proper term for this habitat, but essentially there are lots of marine wetlands.    







I got to the ferry and waited in line.  Since I was way early, there were only a few cars in line, but one was a Bentley.  Nice.  The other had Texas license plates.  As I waited in the waiting room, the Texan definitely sought me out.  I had my A&M hat on, and he made a comment about the Alabama game.  I asked if he was an Aggie or at least a fan, and he looked at me like "how could you not know I am a fan?"  Haha, sorry man.  This man had a closely cropped mustache and reminded me of the dad from October Sky(the movie).  We talked about football and his son, whom he had just visited at Camp Lejune in NC (he was in the Marines).  Later on, during the ferry ride, we would conversate even more about random things.  I appreciated the friendly chit chatter.  When you are by yourself all the time, this is the only form of human interaction you get.  



We loaded up on the ferry that was to take us to Ocracoke Island (pronounced oh-kra-coke).  The ride was about 2.5 hrs, and I spent my time on the observation deck working on my blog.  Beats the hell outta work :-)  



The Outer Banks (reffered to as OBX) are a strand of barrier islands that extend nearly the entire northern half of the NC coastline.  On average, these islands are about 15 mi off the coast of the mainland, and the width of these islands range from a quarter mile to about two miles.  Ocracoke Island is a thin island that is about 15miles long.  About 3/4 of the island is part of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore.  Ocracoke Island is also the most seculded island of the Outer Banks because no roads connect to the island.  It is only accessible by ferry.    



When I drove off the ferry, I had no idea what to expect.  The first thing I saw was the small town of Ocracoke at the southern tip of the island.  The town consisted of cozy touristy restaurants and shops that were inside old beach houses.  Most people got around by walking or riding bikes.  The ocean is not readily visible from most of the island because a large wall of dunes precedes the beach.     


My first stop was to check into my campsite that was part of the National Seashore.  I didnt have a reservation, but in my experience, places like this dont fill up on weeknights during off-peak season.  On the way to my campsite, I got to explore more of the island.  There was a lot more vegetation than I had expected.  Despite how thin the island is (less than 1/2 mi wide) neither the ocean or the bay is visible from the road.  On the bay side, short and stumpy trees hide the bay, and a big dune hides the ocean.    



After checking in to the campsite, I went to scope out my plot.  A small trail led from the small parking spot over the dunes. I followed the trail until I got to my own small slice of the beach.  The beach was amazing. There was a decent streach of soft sand (about 50yards) until the actual area the waves were washing over.  I didnt see a lot of seaweed or debris that is common at a lot of beaches; just lots of soft sand.  I spent a solid hour on the beach being a kid again.  Hunched over looking at shells.  Trying to catch crabs.  Walking around in the surf.  As beautiful as the beach was, the best part was that it wasnt crowded with people.  Within a quarter mile in either direction there was maybe 20 people.        













After my beach fix, I decided that I wanted to drive the length of the island so that I could do a little exploring.  First I went back towards the town so that I could see the lighthouse.  The Ocracoke lighthouse is a somewhat shorter white structure.  It was after hours, so I couldnt go into the lighthouse, but I could take pictures of the outside.  Really, checking out lighthouses is somewhat less cool than you would think.  You  show up and see the lighthouse, take a few pictures, and thats pretty much it.  I drove through a neighborhood or two to check out the houses on the island.  Most of the houses looked very nice, and even though they were raised up on stilts, they looked like normal houses for the most part.    




Next I drove to the far end of the island.  The island gets significantly more narrow, and the dunes come right up to the road at some points.  It was getting towards sunset, and everything looks better in the orange light of an ocean sunset.  I saw that people had parked on the side of the road and scaled the dunes to access the beach.  I decided to pull over and enjoy the beach a little bit more.    




On most sections of the beach, vehicles are allowed, and fisherman drive up to their spots where they fish from the beach.  As it was later in the day, most people had packed up and gone home.  I had the beach to myself.  As far as I could see (literally), I couldnt find another person.  I walked up and down the beach looking for seashells.  For whatever reason, these beaches do not have the best shells.  Although I did find more entact clam shells than at my campsite, probably because this stretch was less trodden upon, most of the shells had been smashed to tiny pieces from the surf.    



I found this weird blob of something on the beach. It was glassy, and it focused the sunlight in a really cool way.






After spending some time at the beach, I decided to get back in the van to check out another spot a couple more miles down the road.  When I had picked my next spot, I pulled over to the side of the road.  There were little sandy clearings on the side of the road where cars can pull over.  I was hesistant to park on the sand, but I had seen plenty of non-4wd vehicles pulled over, so I figured it was OK.  Indeed, the sand was pretty compacted, and cars could easily drive on them.  The second time I pulled over, I apparently picked a less than compact spot.  My car instantly got stuck in the sand.  This was not good.   Obviously, I tried to give the car just a little throttle to pull out, but it does abosultely no good, and actually it buries your wheels in the sand even more.  I instantly got to looking for something to put under the wheels to increase traction.  There were chunks of asphault littering the sand near my car.  I dug out some of the huge chunks and put them under my tires.  I also found a rubber mat that someone else had probably used to bail their car out.  I spent probably 20min attempting to get my car out in absolute futility.    


After I had concluded that there was no way I was going to get my car out by this mehtod, I gave up.  By this point the sun is getting pretty low.  I stopped to snap a couple pictures of the sunset that I had originally come to enjoy.    



At this point, I was weighing what few options I had.  I could call AAA if I had any cell reception (I didnt).  Even when it was afternoon, the lone highway that tracks the length of the island was not heavily traveled; even less so at dusk.  It was much too far to walk back to my campsite (about 15miles), although walking to the ferry station at the far end of the island was only about 5miles away.  I had hoped that I would get lucky and a truck with 4wd would see me stuck in the sand and help me out.  No such luck.  I decided to flag down a car that was heading towards the ferry.  I really had to suck up my pride to do this.  It was actually much harder than I thought it would be; I was super hesistant despite this being the only viable option to get my car out.  I guess I really dont enjoy looking like an idiot.  I flagged down this compact car driven by a couple that was about my age.  I told them I was stuck in the sand, and I asked them if they could tell the attendants at the ferry to send a tow truck.  The guy snickered, not in a mean way, and said "yeah no problem man."    


A couple minutes later, a guy that looked like the Gorton's fisherman in a tank top stopped his truck and asked if I "needed a tug." Thank God.   This guy and the truck behind him full of his buddies pulled over on the side of the road.  They all jumped out and got right to work.  These were a salty bunch for sure.  I could tell they had been out all day long fishing and drinking beer.  These four guys were in their early 40's and each had cigarettes dangling from their bottom lip as they checked out the situation.  One guy kept repeatedly commenting in regards to the sand, "Oh yeah, this is soft" in a new england accent.  The guy with the beard immediately busted out the tow straps and talked about how excited he was to use his buddies straps.  We had a hard time finding a spot to attach the tow straps, as the nose of the van had imbeded itself in the sand at this point.  Before I knew it, one of the guys had a shovel and was clearing out sand near the front of the car.  I wanted to help, but they didnt even give me a second to pitch in.  As soon as a small trough had been cleared out near the front of the car, this guy was down on his stomach with his face buried in the sand trying to peer underneath my car to find the tow hook.  I noticed he still had his cigarrette dangling from his mouth during all of this.  Thats dedication.    


During all of this, I kept saying how appreciative I was.  Their response was always something like, "Oh no problem, Pennsylvania (or PA) will help you out."  I guess they represnet their state pretty hard.  Eventually, we got the hook attached and they pulled me out no problem.  I asked if I could give them a couple bucks to buy a beer in appreciation, and they declined saying "Just look us up in PA".  Before they drove off, I explained that I needed a pic for my travel blog.    



In retrospect, they were totally cool about me being stuck in the sand.  They could have really given me a hard time for such a rookie mistake, but they were really cool about it and didnt say anything, even jokingly.  I appreciated the help from strangers, and I wont be driving on sand anytime soon.    



As I made my way back to my campsite, the sun had already set.  But even more impressive than the sunset, was the rising of the full moon over the ocean.  At first it was huge on the horizon and glowed a rosey red color.  By the time I got back to the campsite it had already risen fairly high in the sky.  I got out my tripod to see if I could snap any impressive pictures (I enjoy playing around with the camera).  It was surprisingly difficult.  In the end, I cheated and used the HDR (high dynamic range) setting on my camera.  It takes three pictures at different exposures and integrates them into one photo.  It tends to give a somewhat surreal and enhanced look to the photo.  



I was thinking about making my own dinner at the campsite, but instead I decided to hunt down some seafood.  I went to Howards Pub, which was right down the street and had been recommended to me.  While on a solo roadtrip, it is always a good idea to sit at the bar when going to restaurants.  There is a better chance of personal interaction.   I got the fresh catch of the day (MahiMahi), had delicious hushpuppies, and enjoyed a local beer.  


I sat next to a very hipster looking couple.  They were both from Asheville, but they looked like something out of the TV show Portlandia.  They made several contemplative and ironic comments about the NFL game that was on.  We got to talking.  Turns out, she is a physician doing her residence, and he is a nurse.  They have been dating for a couple years, and no, they did not meet at the hospital (that was my first question).  Let me also add that this girl was the most hipster looking doctor I have ever seen.  Anyways, they were really nice, and we talked about NC and the Outer Banks.  The guy had spent his whole life in NC, and he used the term "progressive" several times during our conversation.  I do not describe my personal ideology as particularly progressive, but I can appreciate different points of view.  However, it was humorus that he used the term "progressive" in odd contexts unrelated to politics.  It was like he was really trying to use that word.  I asked about their Outer Banks experience.  They told me that Ocracoke was pretty much the highlight of the Outer Banks.  They said Ocracoke didnt have much of a party vibe, and the rest of the Banks were much more "garrish".  These guys were a hoot.  I was curious to see if I would reach a simliar conclusion.  I did agree that Ocracoke didnt have a heavy party vibe, and I liked that aspect of Ocracoke.    


After sitting in a hotel parking lot for an hour to borrow free wifi so I could Skype with Kayley, I setup my tent and prepared for bed.  Before I settled down, I went for one last walk on the beach.  The beach was absolutely deserted, and brightly lit by the full moon.  During my early walks, I had found a 100yd stretch of the beach that was cordoned off to protect a sea turtle nest.  I had overheard a beach bum talking about how sea turtle eggs hatch during the full moon, so I went over to see if any had hatched.  Unfortunately, tonight was not the night. That would have been really special. Also, the stars are supposed to be insane out on these islands, but unfortunately the full moon really overpowered the stars.    


I took a moment to relflect on all the history that surrounds the Outer Banks.  The Banks had been one of the first landing sites for the earliest European settlers and were frequented by pirates.  The Banks were also very infamous for its shipwrecks because of the shifting sandbars surrounding the Outer Banks.  A map on the ferry showed the location of hundreds of shipwrecks from cargo ships in the 1600's and 1700's, and the union ironclad USS Monitor during the civil war.  Indeed, prior to the early 1900's one of the most prominent things on the Outer Banks was the life saving station.  As I stood alone on the surfs edge just listening to the waves, I had one of those rare moments where I felt like I was experiencing something exactly as the people hundreds of years ago had.  There was no electricity.  No technology. Just the moon, ocean, waves, and sand.    



I woke up early on Friday so that I could enjoy a sunrise during my morning beach run.  Most of the time, the beach is croweded with early morning combers, but I only saw one other person.  A great time.  






After the run, I packed up my campsite and took a shower! (this is exciting because most campsites so far have not had showers).   On my way out of Ocracoke, I checked out some historical markers, and I hunted down a coffee shop called Ocracoke Coffee Co.  This coffee shop was awesome, especially considering how small of a town Ocracoke is.    




While in line, I got called out as a "southerner" for the first time.  People were scattered all willy nilly in front of the register.  I asked "are yall in line?", and I guess that was a giveaway.  The lady in front of me said that I must be from the south.  I mean come on, I dont really think I have an accent, and anyways isnt North Carolina still in the south?  Oh well.  


I got to talking to the lady, and it turns out she was an ex-professor.  I was telling her how I just finished grad school and would soon be looking for a job.  She told me that she was a prof that didnt get tenure (i think she was in biological science of some sort, but I didnt enquire).  She said her family was very much entrentched in the community that she worked (it was a small school somewhere I had never heard of) and didnt want to leave after not getting tenure.  She now translates manuscripts for Japanese authors.  Kinda crazy.  She said she gets paid junk, but I guess she makes enough to vacation in the OBX every now and again.    



After eating a delicious pastry and drinking a cappaccino while working on my blog, I headed for the end of the island to board the ferry that would take me to Cape Hatteras (the island next door).  




As I was waiting in the long drive-up line for the ferry, the gentleman in front of me was having a phone conversation with his windows down.  He was in his 60's, and I could hear him making arrangements to stay at a friends house.  Since he had California plates on his car, I figured he was on a journey very similar to mine.   Even though he was in front of me in line, he ended up on the other side of the ferry once we boarded. They packed us in pretty tight; I could barley open my door.  I snuck out however, and I hunted down this guy.  I knocked on his car window and explained that I had overheard his conversation and that I was probably on similar journey.  I guess that was a pretty bold move.  I was feeling friendly after the coffee drinking.    



It turns out that I was correct about his roadtrip.  His name was Tom, and he had just retired.  His wife wasnt quite ready to retire, and it didnt sound like she would be ready to settle down any time in the future. So Tom decided he would set out on his own to see the country.  As a former Navy servicemen, Tom was interested in visiting military monuments and battlefields.  We exchanged some stories from the road.  He told me about his trek through Texas.  Laredo was shady.  He visited the Riverwalk.  He saw the Battleship Texas.  He went to the Dr. Pepper Museum in Waco.    



We also discussed our road trip strategies.  Tom advised me to take the backroads when possible as opposed to the interstate.  I had already been talking the backroads when time was not a concern, but he helped to reinforce the point.  The biggest difference between our strategies was how we sought out lodging.  I explained to him that I have been doing a decent amount of camping, whereas he had been staying in motels.  He would find a small town, inquire about the rate at a couple different places and pick the cheapest one.  He said that he has been spending an affordable amount doing this, and if the prices were higher, he would offer a low-ball amount, which was accepted more often than not.  This was sound advice that I would keep in mind.  I like the camping, but the motel option was more affordable than I had thought.  I am more accustom to staying at hotels (which are pricier), and I always viewed motels as a seedy crack den where one risks being struck by an accidental discharge from the pistol of the meth head in the next unit over (of course, this was not informed from experience).   We spent the entire 45min ride talking strategy, sharing stories from the road, and talking about our lives back home.  I greatly enjoyed this conversation.  Tom was a very friendly guy, and easy to talk to.   At the end of the ride, we shook hands, wished each other safe travels, and went our seperate ways...well not really considering there is only one highway that spans the island.    



The first thing I noticed about Cape Hatteras was the houses.  The houses on Hatteras are noticeably different from the Ocracoke houses.  On Hatteras, the houses have more stories, are often colored with bright pastels, and are all built in the same style.  It was interesting to see.  







I stopped by Our Lady of the Seas Catholic church.  I like to pop in to churches along the way if I have time. Unfortunately, the sanctuary was closed, but I managed to sneak a few peeks through the windows.  There was a giant panoramic window with an ocean view directly behind the altar. That view is awfully tough to beat!  






The main thing to see on Hatteras is the light house.  As I walked around the lighthouse, it came to my attention that the public was allowed to walk to the top (for $8...a little pricey).  Honestly, I was short on time.  It was already 2:30pm, and there were other things I wanted to see.  I ultimately decided that I had to make the climb.  I forked over the $8 and hastily made my way up the stairs.  The rangers said the climb was the equivalent of walking up 12 stories of stairs.  Let me just say, I am not in the best shape.  But apparently I was in better shape than everyone else there (although I was on average 30yrs younger).  Anyways, it gave me a false idea that I am in shape...haha yeah I can totally beat these senior citizens up the stairs.  Sometimes you have to take the confidence booster wherever you can get it.  Once I got to the top, I took a couple quick pictures and spent a minute or two enjoying the view of the island from above.  









Back on road, it became apparent that I was not going to be able to see all the things I had tried to cram into one day.  I decided that I would try to find a motel and conquer the rest of the Outer Banks the next day.  This decision put me at ease.  You try to maintain a steady pace of travel, but sometimes you have to slow things down.  





Looking out across the back bay, you can see dozens of what look like bird blinds way out on the water. I think people boat out to these stands to do birdwatching. I am amazed there are so many out there though. I wonder if they are used for something else?


There are plenty of lighthouses along the OBX, and the next one on my route was the Brodie Island lighthouse.  They are all painted differently, and businesses and residences will paint their mailboxes or buildings to resemble the lighthouses.  At this particular lighthouse, I stopped to take a quick picture, but didnt even bother getting out of the car.  After you have climbed up your first lighthouse, the reset are kinda ho hum.  There isnt much to do at a lighthouse other than to take pictures of it and read the informational panels.  Moving along....  






I decided that I would find a place to stay at Roanoke Island.  Yes, this is the island where the first Brittish colony of the new world was established.  Roanoke Island is on the bayside of the Outer Banks and is still protected by a barrier island.  Roanoke is a very different island than the rest of the outer banks.  It is covered with very tall pine trees, and its cities (there are a couple here), are not tourist destinations, but instead regular neighborhoods where people live and work. When I first crossed over a bridge to this island, it was apparent that there was lots of money here.



After I checked in to my cheesy island themed motel room (hey it was actually really nice for the price), I decided to check out the Italian joint across the street that got rave reviews on Trip Advisor.    


When I walked into this place, it took about 5 minutes for a hostess to seat me.  The place was almost empty, so not off to a good start.  I got a table by myself, and an older couple was seated at the nearby table.  Geez, the lady next to me was super passive aggressive.   When the manager came to ask how the meal was going, she totally ripped her server for really stupid reasons.  Obviously, the manager went and told the server to check on her table.  When she returned to the table to ask if everything was OK, the lady told the server that everything was fine and they were having a great time.  I was amazed.     


The food was decent, but not as great as Trip Advisor made it sound.  I got some sort of manicotti and enjoyed a glass of wine.  While I was sitting there, a lady who was leaving the restaurant (obviously a local) asked if I was in town for the OBX triathlon.  I had seen advertisements for this race around town, but I didnt realize it was the very next day.  Again, I am totally out of shape, but it really boosted my ego that I could be mistaken for a someone in triathlon shape.  I still got it!  


At some point, a guy about my age was seated at a table on my other side.  He was sitting by himself, and it was pretty apparent he was indeed there for the triathlon.  I inquired if he was there for the race.  It turns out he is a marine JAG from Atlanta.  Obviously, being in the marines he is already in pretty decent shape.  He hadnt trained, nor did he really have any idea what the race entailed.  He didnt know the temperature of the water, the distance of the bike, or really anything most triathletes care about.  At least he had the sense to carb up before the race.  He was pretty fun to talk to, and we sat and BS'd for a while.      


I had heard several locals inside the restaurant talking about the local high school football game.  I asked my server, and she told me that the stadium was right down the street.  I went to check it out.  I have to say, I was not very impressed.  The stadium was pretty damn empty.  Anyways, it was fun to watch a few plays.  



I went to my motel room, and quickly went to bed.  The next day:  Roanoke Historical Site and the Wright Brothers Memorial.          

(Note: the preceding events took place between Sept 19th and Sept 20th, 2013)