…go north in the summertime!

Our original plan had been to head south from the Carolinas and travel along the Gulf of Mexico, but the July heat in 2011 was stifling, even along the ocean, much less further south.

Here’s the beauty of the RV lifestyle: you can change your mind. You  haven’t committed to two weeks or three or — if your European — a month in one area. You can fold up your house and go someplace else.

That meant north for us.

So we said good-bye to the best key lime pie in America and the Atlantic Ocean,to head inland.

This fisherman was pulling traps from the Roanoke Sound…

… and we passed unfamiliar agriculture. We guessed this field was tobacco…

… and this might have been cotton:

All of that made us hungry, so we stopped at a little local restaurant named Langley’s Town and Country Restaurant in Nashville, North Carolina. It was a popular spot, and we couldn’t avoid hearing nearby conversations. When the man in the next booth said to the woman he was having lunch with, “Was he a Yankee?” we didn’t hear her reply (but could guess it) when he said, “Well, what did you expect then?”

So we kept our heads low and ducked out, but couldn’t help noticing the next-door business: bail bonding. You just never know what you’ll come across next!

We boondocked for the night at a closed Wal-Mart…

…and drove through fog — the famous “smoke” of the Smokey Mountains:

And when we stopped for gas somewhere inside the Tennessee border, we noticed a converted van parked at the side of the lot. A woman hunched inside next to a rolled up window with a sign taped to it. When she thought she was being watched, she quickly rolled the window down. The sign simply read, “We are stranded.”

On down the highway, we glimpsed this wanderer:

And although I don’t have a picture of it, an unexpected, amazing gesture made our travels through the South especially memorable. The spitty rain that hovered around us meant Ellen kept a small umbrella in the pocket of the passenger door of the Winnebago. It was a handy spot to leave it in case the rain came down while we stopped.

Imagine our surprise when, after making a quick stop at a rest area, a big rig pulled alongside and honked its horn. When we looked up, he was holding up that umbrella! It had fallen out of the door pocket and the trucker remembered our RV when he found it lying on the ground. We followed him to the next exit ramp where we pulled to the side, he got out and ran it back to us, and we offered our profuse thanks.

All of that for an umbrella! There really are thoughtful people in the world, aren’t there?!?

If you drive the Outer Banks (OBX) of North Carolina south of the tourist mecca that makes up Nags Head and Kitty Hawk, you’ll eventually pass the Bodie Island Lighthouse and cross the Oregon Inlet.

Prepare yourself for the immediate and startling change of scenery. Thanks to early planners, several miles of the narrow peninsula have been set aside as a national wildlife preserve. The rental houses, motels, restaurants, tourist traps and gift shops vanish as you’re plunged into the natural wonders of sand and beach grass. On down Hateras Island you’ll encounter other towns with the trappings of civilization, but for these few miles of road you can enjoy the natural world of the OBX.

Bird and nature lovers shouldn’t be content with just driving through — park at the Visitors’ Center along Route 12 and walk the refuge.

Even on an off-season day — the lowest variety of birds are found in the summer months –  we saw plenty to keep us there longer than we anticipated.

Turtles scurried from the banks to swim under the bridge and greet us:

What’s sad is that they’re probably not as much curious as they are looking for handouts.

Don’t feed the wildlife.

Ever.

Even the turtles.

The Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge covers many acres and stretches from the Atlantic Ocean across Route 12 to Pamlico Sound, with plenty of lakes and ponds in between:

After flicking away the nuisance gnats and pesty flying bugs determined to attack us as we made our way through the early part of the trail, we emerged on the open, grassy stretch that cuts between two large lakes on the refuge.

Birds were everywhere, and spotting some we hadn’t seen before — or don’t see very often — was easy. From Great Egrets…

to White Ibis…

to this gorgeous adult Tri-Colored Heron…

… we got an eyeful!

From the observation tower, we used the spotting scope to get a closer look at birds too far for our cameras to reach:

When they soared overhead, caught views of them you just don’t find in the field guides:

Seeing so many different species of birds co-habitating cooperatively…

…made us wonder, “Why can’t human beings share our resources and space as well as they do?”

What do you get when you put “ocra” and “coke” together?!?

Ocracoke! Ocracoke Island is a free ferry ride from Hatteras Island along the Outer Banks (OBX) of North Carolina.

And “free” means the lines can be very, very long… and the wait even longer…

…but the wait is worth it. You’ll see all manner of shorelife:

We spotted this Great Egret stalking lunch…

…and these Brown Pelicans:

Ocracoke Island is bipolar. It has two distinct personalities: the sparse northern end of the island…

…and Ocracoke Village, where narrow streets and plenty of tourists make navigating the town an adventure all its own. In the more than ten years that have passed since we’ve been here, we noticed fewer bicycles and more golf carts…

…another piece of evidence about why America has such a problem with obesity, don’t you think!?

Ellen had her first taste of bluefish here at the Jolly Roger…

…where Bob took her photo…

…while she was taking pics of the Brown Pelicans that perched…

…swam…

…and flew nearby:

We strolled the island, but the surf shops didn’t appeal to us…

Where did all of those quaint gift shops and galleries go? Probably the victims of higher rent and property taxes…

…so we sought out the lesser-traveled spots, like this boat launch:

And we caught this glimpse of the Ocracoke Lighthouse across the bay:

The ferry ride back gave us more birds, like this Black Skimmer…

…and if we looked really hard, we could see jellyfish just below the surface…

…thousands of them… here, there, and everywhere:

Finally, Ellen had found one critter of the sea she was not willing to eat

 

Note: Our apologies for the lateness of these posts. If you’ve been reading the blog awhile, then it’s no surprise that it lags behind real time by several months. We were in North Carolina in July before Hurricane Irene hit.

Reminder: We visited North Carolina’s Outer Banks late July thru early August. We left just 3-1/2 weeks before Hurricane Irene rolled through, taking out Route 12 and decimating much of the OBX. We’re grateful for our timing, and our thoughts are with those we met along the Banks who are still working to put their lives back together in Irene’s aftermath.

Though the main street along the Outer Banks (OBX) of North Carolina gets pretty busy, we found we could ride our bikes along the back streets without worrying about cars and trucks zooming past.

We love riding our bikes — we see so much more of the community this way. And in the case of the OBX, we caught glimpses of life along Pamlico Sound — the water on the western side of Hatteras Island.

Fishing boats…

…and old wharves…

…sit here and there amidst modest houses and lavish rental properties.

And on one of the thin strips comprised of beach, dunes, and road, you’ll find the Haulover area just south of Avon. This spot is popular with kayakers, kiteboarders, and swimmers — the water is generally calmer and shallower than the ocean currents, making it an ideal spot. The Haulover turnout provides parking, restrooms, and an outside shower for spraying off the sand before you climb back into your vehicle.

Kites caught our eye from the road, but the day we stopped happened to be a day when the winds had stopped, too, so we didn’t see as many kiteboarders as we did others, enjoying the waters of the Pamlico Sound…

…including this kitesurfer and his passenger…

…and something we’ve never seen before — paddleboarding:

Of course, you can’t turn in any direction without seeing at least one person fishing, and the Haulover was no different. In one direction, fishermen had their poles stuck in the sand…

…and in the other, they decided to go closer to the source and stuck their poles right in the water (they were a ways away, as we say in the Midwest, so the photo is a bit blurry):

If watching all of this had inspired us to give any of these sports a try, the OBX has plenty of places where you can hire an instructor and stores where you can buy everything you need. And in this economy, several were struggling to stay as afloat as their water-loving customers.

These signs in particular caught our attention:

Going out “for” business?!? We puzzled over the signs until we kept meeting foreign exchange students who were working all over the island, then we wondered if maybe one of the Russian or European employees at this particular store had been asked to order the signs… Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?!?

Or not. Ocean’s nearby, actually, when you’re in the OBX (Outer Banks of North Carolina).

It’s a big draw for people who want to vacation at the beach, lounging and reading and — at least in 2011 — trying to escape a heat index that hovered around 105 degrees every day in late July:

Despite busy beaches near the rental properties and motels…

…we easily found long stretches of empty sand where we could watch the sandpipers…

…keep our distance from the jellyfish…

…and the hotrodding NPS folks in their ATVs…

…who where checking on the nesting sites for the endangered sea turtles:

They were probably checking on the Piping Plovers, too — an endangered species of bird non-native to the OBX but protected regardless of where they’re found. We didn’t get photos of them because they’re hard to spot, and — like the sea turtles — the areas cordoned off were large enough to keep the curious away.

And while the locals we spoke to told us they have nothing against preserving wildlife and protecting endangered species, many were pretty upset about the lengths to which the NPS was going. Restricted beach access cut into the long stretches of off-road vehicle access for surf fishers, which cut into the tourist business, which — so they believed — was why we were able to walk into restaurants without reservations and stay as long as we liked in the RV park.

You can imagine how strong feelings must be when someone feels as though their livelihood is being threatened:

When you travel, you see this almost everywhere you go. Loggers in the Northwest are upset about the forestry service and the “tree huggers.” The Great Lakes states fight battles against those who want to build pipelines to pump fresh water to other parts of the country.

But when you see the images of National Park Service employees shooting foxes and other Piping Plover predators, you have to wonder… how far should it go?

[All of this has inspired a "novel" idea for Ellen, who's a few chapters into a draft of a new book... of course, when it's ready, we'll announce it here, so stay tuned!]

OBX = Outer Banks, the long, skinny stretch of islands along the Atlantic coastline of North Carolina. You’re hearing about the damage Hurricane Irene has done there… and it’s especially hard to look at the images because we were just there in late July, a few weeks before Irene came ashore. Here are some pre-Irene impressions.

We were amazed at the number of closed businesses as we travelled south out of Virginia and toward the OBX. Restaurants, motels, gift shops — everything seemed to be affected in some way.

Then we crossed the bridge on Route 158…

…and saw that Kitty Hawk, Kill Devil Hills, and Nag’s Head were all doing a thriving tourist business. Now we hoped that the crowds would thin as we drove south.

We passed the Bodie Lighthouse…

…and crossed the bridge over the Oregon Inlet…

…onto Hatteras Island, where the ocean roared to our left, the Pamlico Sound lay to the right, and sand bordered us on both sides.

We had entered the world of Laughing Gulls…

…surfers…

…fishing of all sorts…

…including “drum fishing,” which we’d never heard of and — we found out — uses (what else?!?) a drum for catching little fish, usually for bait:

As you’d expect, much of the island’s economy is based on fishing, including charter excursions. The boats are harbored in every community along the OBX, but this boat in particular caught our eye (maybe it’s the name…):

So what do you do if you do a lot of surf fishing, with those very long poles that have to be carried somehow on your vehicle?!? Well, that’s easy:

Front or back, doesn’t matter… pole holders work either way!

So all of this fishing meant Ellen had to try every type of fish she could while here (when in Maine, eat lobster; when in North Carolina, eat the fish, right?!?). She tried grouper, flounder, blue fish, cobe, black-tipped shark (shown here)…

… and mahi mahi (or “mahi”), which (close your eyes if you don’t want to know what you’re really eating when you order this) is actually a type of dolphin. It’s smaller than the bottlenose dolphin we usually imagine when we think of “dolphin” (here a charter boat crewman filets one)…

…and this painted wood carving on the wall of the Dolphin Den in Avon shows how beautiful this fish is:

Of course, no visit to the OBX is complete without a stroll (or two or three or more) along the beach, whether it’s on the ocean side…

…or along Pamlico Sound:

Each has its own personality, attracts its own visitors, and is worthy of a post all its own, so the next posts will focus on each.

Till then, here’s a one last image, the roly-poly Avon Pier (yes, it really is as wavy as it looks!):

We’d been thinking about heading east to the Cape Hatteras coast for awhile, and because we had some errands to run (when you’re full-time RVers, “running errands” can mean traveling across the country!), we decided this would be a great way to try out the new Winnie.

We battled eastern Colorado and Nebraska winds, and generally adjusted to the difference in driving the Winnie, especially while towing the truck. Our assessment: you have to actually *drive* this rig, both hands on the steering wheel, correcting for bumps and wind gusts and general road conditions. That’s okay — Ellen can feel her upper arms getting stronger every time she’s in the driver’s seat!

After stops in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and Winnebago Industries in Forest City, Iowa (both of which we’d return to again this summer, so more on these later), it was eastward ho! for us.

We’d been hearing about the Missouri River flooding, and knew it was going to affect its tributaries, so we kept our eyes open for evidence of it. We didn’t have to look very hard. Rivers were swollen…

… and farmlands were flooded:

Of course, we wouldn’t be full-time RVers if the journey itself wasn’t as much fun as the destination. Our route took us through the Rosebud Indian Reservation…

…and through vast grasslands where we didn’t see another soul for miles:

In mid-June, the Missouri River was still over its banks where we crossed it on I-90:

RVers who tell you they don’t pay attention to other rigs on the road are lying. We’re all curious about what other people are using for towing, whether they’ve made modifications we can adopt for our own purposes, etc. etc.

So it’s not surprising to see someone doing what we’ve all done:

What’s worse than driving with the outside step down? Doing it in a road construction zone:

Which leads me to the question I often ponder on the road: What’s worse than driving through road construction?

Driving through road construction in the rain, that’s what!

…what you’ll see on the road.

RVers will tell you that no trip is complete without seeing smoke on the horizon… usually without a source for it to be found. In this case, the smoke hovered somewhere over Arizona:

And every full-timer can tell you about at least one rest area that was surprisingly stunning, just as this one was (also in Arizona):

You’ll see people hauling all manner of things, in this case a sheep:

And you’ll see people behaving in all manner of rude ways. In this case, a carful of young people decided to clean and re-organize everthing in their car while parked at the gas pump, while we sat waiting, all 31′ of us plus our towed truck… blocking traffic…

Finally Bob asked if they could possibly do that somewhere other than in front of the pump and they acted as though this were an entirely genius concept to them…. !

You’ll see what matters to people writ large, often in their own handwriting, which makes it all the more important to you, too:

You’ll see things for sale you didn’t even know existed, much less thought about buying, even for bargain prices:

You’ll come across amazing places in nature…

…that you won’t be able to resist exploring up close:

In a matter of hours, you’ll go from blue skies and rolling hills…

…to snow-capped mountains…

…and back to the prairie:

You’ll see glimpses of America’s past…

…proof of its military power…

…and signs evidencing its humor:

You’ll drive in winds so fierce they can blow a cow’s tail straight out:

And you’ll find places others thought were dismal, but you think are charming:

You’ll discover unique foods… like the macaroni and cheese sandwich at Whiskey Creek Steakhouse in North Platte, Nebraska…

… or the Wild Rice Burger at Grandma’s in Duluth, Minnesota:

You’ll see proof that America has more than its share of “haves”…

… and “have-nots”:

Nope, you never know what you’ll see on the road.

 

As I mentioned earlier, one of the reasons we wanted to downsize from the larger fifth wheel and pick-up truck was to be more mobile, and we’ve certainly been more flexible!

This is the summer we headed from coast to coast with a few stops in-between. And because the blog has been soooo far behind us, I thought I’d combine several things in the next few posts to bring you (nearly) up to date.

So… to start with… a summary of “boondocking.”

For those of you unfamiliar with boondocking, it’s overnighting without hookups (no electric, no sewer, no water line into the rig). It means you’re relying on your “self-contained unit” to supply what you need. Obviously, this is going to vary from rig to rig.

Our Travel Supreme fifth wheel, as much as we love it, has three slides, and when they’re all in, it’s nearly impossible to get around inside. And as large as it is, once it got warmed up driving down the road in the summer, cooling it down again (even with the generators running all night) for a good night’s sleep was a battle. And to do that meant hooking the generators up (we had two) — an extra step for Bob. So boondocking for us wasn’t much fun on a few levels.

Our lovely Winnie, however, is easy to get around in even when the one slide is in, so we’ve enjoyed several nights of boondocking this summer, starting with the Cliff Castle Casino lot in Arizona….

…our share of Walmart parking lots, including this one that was closed (and now looks like it’s being renovated)…

… and the ever-entertaining rest areas. This one, along the Pennsylvania Turnpike, was especially crowded on a rainy July night:

It was like watching a truck ballet, the way they roared around and between each other, sliding through spaces that didn’t look big enough for a Mini-Cooper, much less a tractor-trailer rig. We worried briefly about someone clipping us, but we actually slept pretty well (considering the noise and the staggering stench of diesel fumes, among other things)!

I’m sure we’ll  have many more boondocking adventures to come… in the meantime, what’s your craziest boondocking experience?

Where to go with the new rig?!? Well… one of the things that we couldn’t do with the big 38′ fifth wheel was stay in some of the parks, including the Grand Canyon. So we headed North, and though we expected we might need to stay someplace well away from the park entrance, Bob decided to call Camper Village to see if … maybe… just maybe…

And — to our great joy — it turns out they did. Have a cancellation. Which meant we got a site right in the park.

We fit into our spot pretty easily…

…and wasted no time getting out onto the Bright Angel Trail…

…where two Condors flew overhead, as if to welcome us:

Our timing coincided with the pack mules coming up from Phantom Ranch. What goes into the canyon, you know, must come out. Even if it’s stuff like banana peels and other trash…

We hiked the Bright Angel Trail a few times — it was so easy from the campground to just catch the shuttle to the trailhead and get an easy start, that we didn’t even notice that we were a little later in the summer on this trail than last year!

We were happy to reach the first waystation:

But still had plenty of energy to make the hike back out of the canyon again:

Being in the park meant we had much more time to wander around… we caught the dance demonstration in front of the Hopi House:

And of course, we shopped in the Market, which made for a great walk to and from the rig. Something new for us was doing laundry. With a washer and dryer in the fifth wheel, we were used to doing laundry when we wanted (as long as we had water and sewer hook-ups, of course). We decided that maybe about lunchtime on a day we weren’t hiking would be ideal, and we were right.

Most of all, staying in the park meant we didn’t just see cute little critters like this hungry fellow…

…or this gorgeous bluebird…

…but we caught a glimpse of an amazing buck elk from the road, and this elk, wandering the campground:

We were enjoying this new, more mobile way of travelling already!