Reflections
October 2, 2009


We’re on the road before 8 a.m. with regret. The Outer Banks has certainly been one of our most favorite places ever. We’re pleased with our choice of places to stay there, especially since we had no experience on which to base the decision. If (okay, when) I return, I would be happy to be again in Rodanthe, Hatteras Island in general and Camp Hatteras RV Park in particular.

The facilities were topnotch - clean, convenient, level concrete pads and good wifi. They have a large nice outdoor swimming pool, a second indoor one in addition to a great spa. And of course it has easy access to both sound and sea.

Hatteras has a modest amount of commercial development with plenty of opportunities for getting on the water. Directly to our north is Pea Island with its fabulous wildlife refuge. Ocracoke Island south of us has a commercial district that is an islandy area of shops. North of Pea Island, we saw extreme development in the Nags Head area. Although we didn’t venture further north than that, we know that section is even more highly developed and commercialized, and so holds less allure for us.

Melissa sent a cute note about the moving of the Hatteras lighthouse. She said that people put coins in the path of where it was dragged to its current location, thus creating their own souvenirs, which her parents obtained.

As I think back on our afternoon on the water with Ken, I learned much from him about the area. As we motored toward a fishing spot, he mentioned that he was looking for a color change in the water. I expected that to be something discernible only by him if at all; however, when we hit it, I was surprised to see that it was a clearly distinguished line as far as I could see. He explained that it was where the ocean water met the sound water. How odd that the two bodies of water don’t mix into a transitioning area.

One of Ken’s best stories was about cannonball jellyfish which abound in these waters. He netted one for our perusal, and showed us the tiny symbiotic fish that harbor in its depths. The tale related to his three children, all boys, all of whom are presently in college. When they were younger, they would gather 40 or 50 cannonballs in buckets and await his return from work. He would be greeted at home by being pelted with jellyfish until he located one of their stashes and then the war was on. They would all end up being covered with a gelatinous mess.

Personally, I preferred our childhood chinaberry fights. They stung like crazy but at least you didn’t have to shower afterward. Self wondering: do children find things to throw at each other no matter where they live?

We are glad we did the ferry experience to get to Hatteras, but next time, we will take the easier way that we are now traversing - coming in from the north through Roanoke. What an incredible drive this is. Of course there is water everywhere, the same as out on the Banks, but it’s an entirely different atmosphere. We drove through the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge, where Ken cut his cypress to build the boat, and the East Dismal Swamp. It is a vast area of cypress swamp complete with kayaking “trails” mapped so that one can return from one’s excursion and not wander until one starves.

Swamps, bears, wolves . . .

Signs warn not to feed the bears; a bit further on are signs cautioning about red wolves. I would never have thought about either being here; I’m astounded. Along what is called the historic Albemarle highway, we cross the Alligator, Scuppernong and Roanoke rivers, all of which of which empty into the nearby Albemarle Sound. By the time we reach the Scuppernong, we have emerged into relatively higher ground and see signs of civilization. Precious little of it back in the swamp. Would love to spend lots of time exploring there - next trip.

I am anxious to do some research about this section of the country. As we head westerly, we continue through highly forested country, but where some farming is evident - we see a variety of crops, including soybeans, cotton, sweet potatoes, okra, broccoli(?), tobacco and pasture interspersed in the now more piney/oak woods, but still we descend periodically into marshy regions.

Eventually, the coastal Carolina region gives way to inland forests and we arrive at our destination, a trailer park near Durham that sports a small RV section hidden in the trees. In fact, everything seems to be hidden in the woods here. Even a supermarket is hard to spot.

Birchwood, archives . . .

Birchwood may be one of the oddest places we’ve stayed. The small RV section is less than developed, with very sloping sites, no park bathrooms or showers, but it is a pretty setting. It seems to be the only place around with wifi, actually, one of the few RV places in this area, which we find surprising.

We are here to do research at the State archives. Since we last visited the archives, we have located a bunch of North Carolina ancestors that we didn’t know about, so want to see what we can find on them.

We have just discovered in charting some material we already have that one branch, the Stalcups, donated the land and helped to build Old Swedes Church, the oldest still used church in the United States, built in 1699. Pretty astounding! And many of them were christened, married and buried there. It is located in Wilmington, Delaware, so that will have to go on the list of places to be visited.