Hatteras

Drove down to Hatteras Island on Monday, an easy hour, mostly along uninhabited National Seashore, with Pamlico Sound to our right and the Atlantic Ocean on our left. The wind blew sand partway across the road, but only the northbound traffic had to deal with that. We saw groups of pelicans flying along, and in spots we observed groups of windsurfers and kite-sailors skimming the waves under the steady power of the relentless wind. We stopped for lunch near the Hatteras lighthouse, after mistakenly proceeding down a dead end road and having to reverse back to a turn-around. It was only a matter of time before I did this, and thankfully it happened in a place where there was little traffic and I had plenty of time to execute the necessary maneuver.
We arrived at Frisco Woods campground and had a walk around to pick out our spot, and we found a nice one away from everyone else. Getting the Whale in there, however, was my most challenging driving to date. There is a small S bend in the camp road, punctuated by tall pines with branches just low enough to be of concern, and it took maybe 20 minutes and countless adjustments to proceed the 100 feet or so of this turn. I am NOT looking forward to doing that again, but alas, it is inevitable. The site, as a reward, is wonderfully protected and isolated, especially as compared to the marina-like closeness of the Refuge.


Yesterday I enjoyed a bike ride down to the Atlantic side, where there is a large National Park campground, which we are considering moving to, as it is beautiful. Later we both pedalled back there so that Nancy could see it, and we rode around eyeballing potential sites. It would be our first "dry-camping" with no hookup to electricty or water. Water is easy, but for Network-IT to run, electricity is essential. We'd need to run the generator to keep computer batteries charged. We've got to try it sometime, so why not here? Anyway, back at camp we walked dogs, then hopped into the truck to hunt down groceries and check out the village of Hatteras. This is much more our speed than the sprawling fried-dough, para-sailing, jet-skiing, mini-golf beach-party scene up at Nags Head and Kitty Hawk. This is a small fishing town, with shops that locals also use, devoid of traffic signals and light-to-light drag racing. This is the outer banks I was looking for. But the weather is about to change, and I'm not sure that this is the best place to stick it out. We'll make that decision today.

The Frisco fishing pier had a rough time of it during the last hurricane: