Over the weekend we had a crew of about 10. Pretty much a perfect crew, actually. Despite the fact that not everyone knew each other prior, everyone got along famously. I have trouble sitting still even on vacation; the thought of laying on a chair on the beach or by a pool all day makes me cringe. Fortunately, this was the type of group that is always down for going somewhere or doing something.
I forgot to take pictures, and I think Jensen forgot her camera, and she's usually the one who leads that charge.
Photo courtesy of Randy Childs.
A friend Randy, has a dog, Silas, that's a Carolina Dog, which is an American Dingo. Mattafack, Silas' parents were actually wild. And I'm not talking about strays; these wild dogs have been living in the backwoods and swamps for thousands of years. Pretty cool dog, too. It's amazing how well they seem to adapt to being first generation pets. In the background I'm heading out to catch a few rides and a few faceplants as well.
Later on in the week, it was just the Jack Dog and me. Once in a while when I'm down there and have a little spare time, I like to drive south to check out the goings on, or better yet, lack thereof. About 10 miles down the road is the Oregon Inlet, which connects the Pamlico Sound to the Atlantic. Here you can literally find some of the best fishing in the world.
Here's an awesome pic of the bridge and inlet from National Geographic:
I was talking with the Bob, the owner of Bob's Grill (eat and get the hell out), one morning and he said the Oregon Inlet is closing up. The currents are taking sand out of some areas and putting the sand into others. Recently a guy at the wheel of a 56 foot fishing boat ran into a piling, and the currents were so strong that water came onto his boat and sank the whole thing in 3 minutes. A 56 foot boat went down in 3 minutes--hard to imagine, until I saw that the entire Pamlico Sound, which spands about 1/4 of the coast of NC, only has two points where water comes in and out of the Atlantic, and this is one of them. I've said it before and I'll say it again, one of the things I like most about the Outer Banks is how mother nature always has the upper hand.
It's pretty well known that the condition of the Oregon Inlet Bridge is absolutely terrible. It was analyzed by an engineering company back in '06, which gave it a rating of 'poor,' and concluded that in it's current state, without repairs, the bridge would only be considered safe for roughly another 6 years or so.
Anyway, my destination on these short treks is usually Pea Island, a few miles past the bridge. The road narrows, and to the left is one dune and the ocean, and to the right you'll find marshes as far as you can see. If you show up after a big storm, sometimes the roads are so flooded that you can't even cross, at least I can't in the Sube without getting all kinds of salt water in the engine. As far as I know, salt water and engines have yet to get along. No houses will ever be built here, as it's a protected zone. Matt and I used to co
me down this way in the summers looking for waves. There are a few areas where you can pull to the side of the road and walk up the dune to check the surf. One of these places is known locally as Boilers.It's called Boilers because you can see the boiler stack of a shipwreck sticking out of the water. It's the wreck of the Oriental, and this beast went down in 1862. We had been surfing here for years without even noticing it. Word on the street is that some pretty big fish like to hang out in the area, including the kind that you don't want to piss off.
On the right day, you can be the only person on the beach for miles, and Jack took full advantage, running full loops, jumping in the ocean, peeing on every piece of driftwood and every clump of seaweed and of course making my car stink like wet dog afterward.
I was just getting into a good routine by mid week the second week- work all day with a few breaks to head to the water for a few, drop by the store early evening and get what I need to make a bad ass dinner for myself, get some work done at night with the door cracked so I could hear the ocean. But of course, when it was time to go, the weather jumped to about 65, the sun was steady, and the wind died down, as if to taunt me.
I shouldn't complain though, in two weeks or so it'll be annual beach weekend, which will be sicckkkk. I should start hydrating now.
