Coast to Coast

We needed to ride for another day to rejoin the main route and continue our journey south to Florida. This section of North Carolina is known as “Down East”, similar in name to the area we passed in Maine. It's also been discovered by tourists and real estate developers. Maybe it's a chicken and egg thing...we wonder which comes first, or if they appear simultaneously. The tourism folks have thought of catching names for their area, and they all seem to end in “Coast”. Just to name a few, we passed through the "Silver Coast, Emerald Coast, Crystal Coast", etc. It was hard to differentiate one from another as they all looked the same to us. We met sports fishermen everywhere we went and came to find that there are over 30 different species of game fish in being sought after in the area. Not to mention the oysters, shrimps, scallops, crabs and other delicacies...we were having a field day stopping at roadside stands to purchase the freshest “catch” for dinner. Not to mention the oysters, shrimps, scallops, crabs and other delicacies...we were having a field day stopping at roadside stands to purchase the freshest “catch” for dinner.

The real estate developers have been extremely busy, and there is a transformation underway. You can ride for 20 miles or so through forests only to come upon clearings where the new cash crop is retirement homes. In those areas, the traffic understandably becomes heavier, and shopping malls add to the congestion.

Yet, it is still relatively level terrain and relatively effortless pedaling as the route takes you through pine forests, marshlands, swamps, the intracoastal, etc.. We were making good time as 50+ miles a day became the norm. We had little trouble finding campsites, and even spent a night in a nice facility in the Croatan National Forest. This is timber country, which seems a bit incongruous to Rocky Mountain dwellers who normally associate national forests with the mountains. But the pines grow straight and tall here, and the growing conditions are ideal. Lumber and paper manufacturing are big business in the South East, and we knew we would be seeing more of it as we headed into South Carolina and Georgia.

We were still 2 days from Wilmington when we awoke to a light drizzle and the prospect of a soggy day. The route takes you directly through Camp LeJeune Marine Corps Base before turning towards North Top Sail Island, a barrier island along the coast. It didn't take long before the heavens opened up, and by the time we got to the MP gate at the Base, it was raining pretty hard and steady.

The MP asked us the standard questions that we've come to expect when we meet people...”where you going, when did you start, how long will it take, et. al.” He then wanted to know what it was like to ride a bike in the rain. This one had us stumped. We never were really asked that before, especially straddling the bike in a downpour at a guard station to a military base. After a long, pregnant pause Mary Ellen replied “Well, it's a warm rain so it's not too bad”. Maybe it felt warm because we were pretty steamy inside our rain suits. We were comparatively dry, all things considered, but still felt like clams in wet suits.

We were informed that there were live firing exercises underway and we would need to take the “short” detour around Highway 172 through the base. Short is relative...in a car it was short, for us it was another 45 minutes of head down pedaling. So it goes. We could hear the sound of mortars and howitzers being fired in the distance, and were glad to be on the safe alternative. We came upon a training area that had buildings which appeared similar to those we've seen on TV in Iraq. The sign said it was an “Urban Tactical Training Area”. It is beyond the scope of this blog to expound upon the war and the world situation, but we both were deeply moved by what we observed. We are a nation at war and witnessing the training exercises of those being sent into harms way. This was serious business and gave us pause. Reflecting on what we were observing, we wished all the Marines Godspeed as they perform their service. It was a somber day, and the incessant rain only added to the mood.

It seemed like forever before we exited the base, crossing the bridge over the New River. It had been over 10 days since we had used our small chainring, and it became a matter of personal pride that we not have to gear down. We made it up and over in the middle ring with a gear to spare and enjoyed the "freebie" ride down the otherside of the causeway.

After stopping for a well earned soft served Dairy Queen, we headed back out into the storm for the final 15 miles to Surf City. Crossing the Intracostal Waterway for the umpteenth time onto North Top Sail island when the rain finally ceased. Instead we were greeted by a strong headwind for the final 8 mile push to Surf City. There would be no camping tonight. Even though it was a "warm rain", we were cold, tired, and needed a roof over our head.

At first glance, North Top Sail seemed like all the other beach resort towns we had seen...new expensive homes on stilts interspaced with some older, delapidated trailers or vacant lots. But it quickly became apparent that all was not well on the island. Virtually every property we passed had a "For Sale" sign on it. The island should have been named For Sale, not Top Sail. The real estate "boom" had busted here, and we found that there was a tremendous glut of housing on the market. Which was too bad, because we actually found the island as one of the less commercial and more interesting ones that we had seen to date. But we couldn't concern ourselves with the state of the Top Sail economy just yet. We yearned for a dry room and a hearty meal.

There were plenty of motel rooms available, and we ended up staying at the Islander Inn, complete with a picnic table, microwave and fridge. Bingo! We quickly unloaded and headed to the local seafood shack where we purchased 1/2 peck (that's two dozen for you land lubbers) of oysters and a pound of shrimp. We spent the better part of the night dining on our "catch" and enjoying a suprisingly crisp North Carolina chardonay. It was a splurge night but we had earned it. The rains and winds returned, continuing to pour down on the roof. We didn't know if the rain was ever going to stop, but it didn't matter. We were warm and snug and as we drifted off to sleep, reflected on another incredible day, full of wonder and discovery.