Three-Day Beach Vacation

The cool midnight sand massaged my feet as I made a pilgrimage to the ocean. Among the shades of black, the stars illuminated something scurrying in front of me. I turned on my lamp to investigate, and the light revealed hundreds of little eyes locked on me. Crabs, hundreds of claws, surrounded me. Everyone was petrified with fear; the crabs of being stomped, and I of my toes being pinched off. With no prior crab army experience, I tested the water to see what I was up against. I threw shells at them, but they stood their ground. They were either blind or under direct orders not to back down. Unrest began in the rear flank, and a crab from the back bum rushed me. The speed at which these crabs side shuffle is hard to believe (up to 5.2 feet per second). I turned around and ran into the darkness. Welcome to the wild Outer Banks.

I scored a few days off work this week and decided to head south for warmer weather. A recommendation from a coworker pointed me towards the shore of North Carolina, the Outer Banks. I loaded my bike, backpacking gear, and camera into my car and ripped down the coast, with no idea where the next few days would take me. I prefer to travel with no plans or expectations. Nearing OBX, I read: Kitty Hawk, ten miles. The Wright brothers? Holy smokes. Shortly after, a sign for Roanoke Island. You've got to be kidding me. I was driving into a gold mine; a rich historical site lay before me. Windows down and music up, I fly down the coast to the Oregon Inlet campgrounds. I swiped the last campsite, lucky day indeed. I spent that night reading and losing myself in the Milky Way.

I rose with the sun the next morning, as man was intended. Catching a tan by seven in the morning, I was dialed. Kayaking in the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge called me. In childhood wonder, I drove through the refuge. Green, green, green, and the fields buzzed with life: frogs, turtles, and every species of bird known to man. I side quested a wildlife trail on my Motobecane to warm up for kayaking. Not even a quarter of a mile into my ride, I stumbled into a roadblock. A caravan of retirees, all strapped with camera lenses the size of a large child, all pointing in one direction. Mama Bear and her cubs were keeping a safe distance from the paparazzi. I spent the next hour biking around the black bear abundant park. There were tree chillers, road crossers, and river waders. They ruled this land, and I was blessed to be in their presence. After multiple black bear blockades, I made it to my kayaking tour on the dot. For the following two hours, a wilderness nut led us through the gator-filled waters, imparting wisdom from the plants and animals that resided here. I found that gators are shy creatures, and there is negligible risk for a kayaker unless they are carrying a rotisserie chicken or bite-sized dog.

I headed for the island of Ocracoke, cruising down the chain of barrier islands. Nothing compares to the freedom of the road, a car is an island far away from it all. Neither here nor there. The passage of time massages my tangled thoughts. I met a charming couple on my hour-long ferry ride to Ocracoke. They decided to escape the rat race, and moved here a year ago. Now they charter fishing boats on this island. The fringe is where to find the most down-to-earth and fascinating people; may we take note. I am sure I will see them again. After arriving and establishing camp for the night, I spent the evening exploring by bike. The vibe here was contagious; everything seemed to slow down. Cars turned into golf carts and bicycles; time no longer existed. I found myself on a bench for over an hour watching everyone stroll by. The sun rested, and the moon was on the rise. I headed back to my campsite, bidding farewell to the town that had brought me peace. Lightning bugs and frogs guided me home.

Homeward bound, soul soothed, mind mended. In the morning, I strolled the beach, shelling in the sun, living out childhood dreams. On my way out of North Carolina, I stocked up on local produce. My final stop before Jersey was at the Assateague Islands to visit the wild horses. The party never ends. Next time you have a couple of days off and want to plan a trip, don’t. Just get in the car and drive. Everything will work out.