Before we headed out the next morning, we spoke with Don, a nice older Jewish man who was staying at the campground. He was great fun, and admired our trip, though when we told him our destination, he noted wryly that we might be headed in the wrong direction if we were going towards the Outer Banks.
The skies were mildly overcast in the morning, and though it had not rained overnight as was half-expected, it seemed to threaten to rain all day. We made our decision to ride the 60-some miles to Cedar Island, thankful that there was cloud cover and that the wind might keep us cool during the effort. Yes, it was a headwind; as we set out, though, it was not too hard to pedal through. It got progressively worse during the day.
We stopped briefly at a dirt/gravel driveway on Old Winberry Road, and then again on a grassy strip next to the road near Williston; next to the road was a swampy ditch simply alive with fiddler crabs. We sat, and laid, there for about 20 minutes, as the sun poked through and the winds moderated a bit, and we ate our crackers and some grapes. It is a simple pleasure, sitting by the roadside munching on snacks, especially after an hour or so of being perched on the narrow expanse of a bicycle seat. Perhaps difficult to understand, but the experience is truly delightful.
We stopped again near where SR 70 departs the route and SR 12 leads on to Cedar Island where, I knew, there was a motel and restaurant; it would be a less-desirable option should camping not be feasible, but I also knew there was a campground there. The spot where we stopped, just past the intersection of 12 and 70, is surrounded by trees as far as you can see down 12, until it makes a big, wide curve to the left. My optimistic assessment was that we might possibly be shielded from the wind for the remainder of the ride. So we set out, I in front to give Nancy a little shielding from the wind as she had provided for me for many miles.
Then we rounded the curve, and the road opened up onto the open expanse of coastal wetlands and low-lying grasslands. The only trees we could see were behind us, and the skies, now completely overcast, threatened rain more ominously than they had all day. The wind was appreciably stronger without the protective vegetation, and the curve set us into a course directly into it. We would learn later that the winds were 25-30 mph and that they were gusting to 40. Remaining upright in conditions like these becomes a real challenge.
Fortunately, traffic was exceptionally light, being late on a Sunday afternoon, so we had the whole road to swerve around on. Out front, for the most part I just kept my head down and tried not to glance up at the impossibly long distance of road that stretched out in front of us; I captured an upbeat song in my head from among my favorites and used that to set tempo. The miles ticked by in small increments; little pleasures announced themselves along the way through this, the Cedar Island Wildlife Preserve, in the form of Laughing Gulls trying to fly against the wind and then turning around to vanish in an instant with the gusts; in the form of a Snowy Egret we flushed from his roadside hunting ground and who took wing, gliding along at our same speed over the grasses, perhaps hoping we would veer off and away from his prey; and in the form of a red-wing blackbird clinging to a single thin reed that tipped, bent, bent more under his little weight in the wind, and we could imagine the blackbird grasping desparately at his perch thinking it would eventually stabilize before he finally abandoned it and let the wind carry him aloft.
Just a few miles from our previous stop along SR 12, we stopped again to rest after the monumental struggle up a bridge; at the crest, we took refuge against the wind in the meager shelter of the bridges' concrete barrier, and again ate some snacks to sustain the drive. The picture I managed to get of the two of us sitting there looks innocuous but is an image of us, perhaps, at our best; able to maintain a sense of humor in the face of a very trying ride.
We struggled and rolled, strained and pedaled, and we finally made it to Cedar Island before 5. There we learned about Ocracoke Village, right at the ferry terminal on Ocracoke Island, and decided to make the 2-hour (plus) crossing that night at 6, and stay at a hotel there. The crossing was on rollicking waves and punishing winds, with drizzle and occasional rain; but we were sheltered in the passenger's lounge and had some more snacks (we're on the Hobbit diet now, remember); we made it to the hotel, Blackbeard's Lodge, by 8:20, got into our room by 8:25, and walked across the street to the Back Porch for dinner by 8:30. We had a lovely, relaxing dinner (suitably far away from other diners, given our relatively odorous state) before retiring to our room for the evening. Blackbeard's Lodge, it turns out, might be a good destination for GWA; Nancy now has details and it now is just a matter of logistics.
Overnight, thunderstorms rolled through, drenching the island, and as we arose this morning for the short walk over to the coffeeshop, we found it necessary to skirt many large puddles. It is still overcast now, as we sit in the Ocracoke branch of the public library; the Hatteras branch, we learned, is closed on Mondays. We will set out towards Hatteras soon, just a 14-mile ride to the free ferry from Ocracoke there, and either camp (if the threat of rain has subsided) or find a room. Along the way, we will be riding through the Ocracoke portion of the Hatteras National Seashore, and perhaps see some of the variety of wildlife for which this area is renowned.
Seen by the side of the road update:
In a side ditch between Williston and SR 12, I saw (and Nancy somehow did NOT see) one large, red, floppy clown shoe (just one, AAAAAlways just one). We also saw, for sale in a yard, several large wooden sculptures including at least two painted pink flamingos. That was near Stacy, if anyone needs to go get one.
Haiku Moment:
Fiddler crabs scurry
some left claws large, some right claws
Are southpaw crabs best?
Another post soon! /Matthew
No comments:
Post a Comment