Into the Wind!

Tuesday night, May 9, 2006. After staying the night in Hatteras, and having a lovely dinner at Rocco's (he said we HAD to eat there . . . no, really), we moved on in the morning with the plan that we would stop at either Rodanthe (ro-DAN-tee) or at Oregon Inlet to camp. We were expecting some more wind, this time directly out of the north and up to 20 mph. In other words, headwinds most of the day.

We pushed on mightily, despite the initial crosswinds (we were heading roughly east, towards Cape Hatteras and the lighthouse), and then turned off heading south to the lighthouse itself (where we briefly hit 17 mph, with the tailwind, and hardly pedaling at all!). We had a nice visit with one of the rangers there, Roland Whitted, who gave us all sorts of good information. For instance, the Hatteras Lighthouse actually stands in a different place now than it did originally; it was moved some years ago about 2900 feet over the course of 21 days (and you thought WE were moving slowly!). Also, the Oregon Inlet, several miles north of us and separating Hatteras Island from Roanoke Island, was named for the first ship to pass through it after it was formed in the 1840's. Cool, huh?

We climbed the 247 steps to the top, where I called my friend John, hard at work back at PPI (no, really). The view is, of course, unparalleled. There are pictures, but we will have to wait to post them because we are currently at a library that does not have USB connections available on their computers. Don't ask. Coming down the stairs was harder for the other people around us, but because of our more or less constant conditioning program over the last couple weeks, we made it pretty easily. When we got to the bottom, I had to do the leprechaun heel-clicking thing that Tom Scanlon showed me years ago. No pictures of that, sorry.

After we turned pretty much directly into the north wind, our already paltry pace slowed to around 7-8 mph. Traffic occasionally speeding by would sweep us along in the vortex of their wake; sometimes we would get up to double digits for a second or two. When the big trucks swooshed by, that lasted for a heady 5-6 seconds; sometimes we liked it, other times we liked it less (like when the septic truck passed).

Along the way, we saw numerous windsurfers and kiteboarders out on the Pamlico Sound (it was harder to see the Atlantic because of the dunes); at one point, we saw some crossing the road in front of us from the ocean side, and we pulled over to talk to them and see what the kites were made of. They are ripstop fabric and have an inflatible leading edge, which turns them into a kind of upswept wing. The group we talked to had kiteboarded down several miles and were now looking for a ride back. One of them suggested they use the "kiddie pool" to get back (that's the Pamlico Sound for studs who kite out in the open ocean). We couldn't help, so we had to leave them behind, hitchhiking.

We made it to Avon for lunch, struggling to maintain the pace we had, and decided there to only go so far as Rodanthe, since it was already getting late. We knew there was a KOA there, anyway, and it would help us get to Gold status with the KOA Klub if we stayed there. There was an adorable little girl at the next table who was captivated by our bright clothes; she would wave and say "HI!", and then try to eat the tablecloth in front of her. Her dad helpfully stretched his arm across in front of her so she wouldn't gnaw on the table, so she tried to gnaw on his arm. Aren't kids cute?

The remaining 18+ miles were brutal. Nancy committed to taking the lead and rode admirably in the face of fierce headwinds. We poked along, eventually having to stop on the side of the road when we made it to 30 miles on the day because we needed a moment to rest. Fortunately, where we stopped was within sight of Salvo, the southernmost of the RWS community (Rodanthe-Waves-Salvo). That was heartening; up until then, all we had seen for miles in front of us and miles behind us was mildly vegetated sand dunes rising JUST high enough to keep you from seeing the water on either side. Resting there gave us the strength to continue into the wind

By the way, any Broadway musical that results from this adventure will necessarily have to be called "Into the Wind".

We stopped for a well-deserved ice cream at the Village Conery, and talked with the server there about what to expect up ahead. She told us we should to go to the Boardwok for dinner, even though it was about a mile from the campground we were shooting for. She said her neighbors own the place and they'd treat us right. Outside, we had a nice talk with another couple, also camping (albeit in an RV, and in another, presumably ritzier, campground), who gave us lots of details about the area, their kids, ther grandkids, and their travels. They were intrigued by our trip and were not the first ones to say "you're better than I am". We don't see it like that - we are just out here having fun and meeting people. We just happen to be going kind of slow.

When we got to the KOA, it was like we had found an oasis in the Sahara. We parked out front and hugged, happy to have slogged all this way. As we entered, three of the workers were busy trying to fix the lock on one of the doors; as it happened, it was a lock I recognized and had some experience with (it was similar to one we had at Cosmic Cone many years ago). I was able to get them pointed in the right direction and they got it fixed. So, as we were standing there getting checked in, and as I was reaching for my wallet to pay for the night, the campground manager (who had seen us arrive on our bikes), stepped forward and told the cashier to give us the night for free! AND, as if that weren't enough, they also had TWO small bags of Fiery Habanero Doritos! We bought both bags later when we came back up for some postcards.

By nightfall, after showers, laundry, dinner and a walk out to the beach, the winds had fairly well subsided, to be replaced, we expected, with lighter WSW winds by morning. The night was cool and we were exhausted; we were both relishing the idea of being snuggled up warm in our sleeping bags. On this clear night, somewhat away from the lights of town, we could see roughly a bajillion stars. The wind had swept away the clouds, and all that was left was the cool night air, a perfect lens to the sky. We slept well.

Haiku moment
Eleven is right
but now we camp more often
more like half and half

Tomorrow, the Oregon Inlet and on to Kitty Hawk!