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TagsBY PAT SUMMERS
NEWJERSEYNEWSROOM.COM
It was not your usual get-away-from-it-all mini vacation. It wasn't ours either. Three days, 860 miles and four states outside New Jersey, our destination was North Carolina's Outer Banks, a.k.a. OBX. It was an off-season trip to the beach for a day.
The startling thing was that we enjoyed getting there as much as being there, the destination as much as the driving, the process as much as the product. In other words, our expectations were the same – the only way such a trip can work and those involved can come up smiling.
And it didn't hurt over the course of nine hours, my husband and I drove out of New Jersey's rain and into Virginia's sunshine; out of 60-degree weather here and into 82 degrees in coastal N.C. And then that, except for one breakfast-in-transit, we ate like royalty and slept in a bed from which we could watch the ocean rolling in.
The drive south through Delaware, Maryland and Virginia – the "Delmarva Peninsula" – offers countless scenic and fun distractions because Rt. 13, which we picked up just over the Delaware Memorial Bridge, is no I-95. Thank goodness. True, it moves past stores and malls, Waffle Houses and tattoo parlors.But Rt. 13 also passes farms, with occasional lovely old white farmhouses set back on green lawns, and fields of corn and other crops to only guess at. Crepe myrtles line the road in two ice cream flavor colors, red and black raspberry. And, alas, chicken-processing plants, like Tyson's sprawling Temperanceville complex, kick out god-awful smells only suggesting the god-awful activities inside.
The more south, the more roadside signs for shrimp, fireworks and barbecue, then Virginia hams and peanuts. Speed limits, invariably in the 50s, not the 60s, made it easier to stop on impulse, and gas prices at Valero, Citgo and BP stations were comparable to home, though of course we pumped our own. Easy Pass has caught on at toll booths.
Other sights included the name on a boat for sale: "Fatal Attraction," place names ("Coinjock"?) and a truck advertised an unconventional business: "Two Husbands for Hire" (for home maintenance and repairs). A fair number of little family burial grounds were visible on private property, while abandoned old houses were totally covered by and sprouting vines and bushes through windowless openings. The sign for "Ophelia's Hats and Hair" was clear; "NO OLF" was not.
Always the highlight of a trip to the Outer Banks: The Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel (CBBT), reached about three quarters of the way to OBX. Spanning the great bay to connect the Delmarva Peninsula with Virginia's Eastern Shore, this 17.6-mile long engineering marvel with two mile-long tunnels opened in 1964. A second bridge opened in 1999, then allowing one-way traffic each way.
It's still a wonder - even more so when a great naval vessel out of Norfolk makes its way to sea via the channel that's right over those tunnels. The long approach to CBBT runs over a panorama of blue bay and green marsh grasses. Then, driving across either of the bridges, it's all Chesapeake below, with a choppy "river" between the low trestle bridges. Occasional pelicans fly over and gulls perch atop the lights. In season, fishing boats bob about.
Right after one of the tunnels comes a scenic stop with snack food and a window-walled restaurant, a gift shop, a fishing pier and restrooms. Attractive signage along the walkway from vehicle parking to the building presents highlights of historical events that occurred near here, starting with an engagement between French and British ships in 1781 that helped decide the outcome of the Revolutionary War.
Information about naval ships, including their silhouettes, is included, helping identify vessels that might move into view. A big graphic gives highlights of the CBBT construction, inspiring more awe.
The Outer Banks of North Carolina, Nag's Head in particular, is a whole other kind of seashore from what we know and love in New Jersey. (In our off-season experience, it's almost always breezy-to-windy, however warm. Think sandy and scrubby, with giant weathered gray shingle houses along the beach. Kind of shabby-chic.
As far as flora goes, it's the antithesis of Loveladies, Stone Harbor and similar places, where elaborate lawns and banks of multicolored flowers are the rule. In OBX, it's all ornamental grasses almost all the time: sizeable ones, with long ivory plumes on top, serving in groupings and as dividers. Very Outer Banks. Here and there, occasional stubby palm trees. That's it.
Food. It can be great here. Like all returning visitors, we have favorites: Sam and Omie's for casually wonderful seafood; Owen's for a fine dining setting and equally notable food; the Dunes for breakfasts, including grits and biscuits, that will see you through the ride home ... all the way to New Jersey.
Maybe it's the Dunes' portion sizes that attract customers who keep the national obesity epidemic going. We came up with a new game as we surveyed others' meals and the occupants of nearby tables: guess the total weight of those at the table. Leftover summer tee shirts on sale told the story: mostly size small, with a few mediums.
Did we mention there was no swimming for our day at the beach? No matter. We walked and shelled, got some sun and waded in the turbulent water near shore. We revisited places we've liked and even did a little shopping.
Just being there was great. And the next day, homeward bound, we'd again enjoy talking or being quiet, reading, listening to CDs or radio, surveying the passing scene.
With some vacations, we just want to be there – fly to the Caribbean for maximum time on site, for instance. But going to OBX, as with going to Avalon or Spring Lake, NJ – that's unique: we like the places, but we like getting there, too.
Pat Summers is a freelance writer who also blogs at AnimalBeat.blogspot.com.