My Favorite Place: The Outer Banks

A Trip to My Favorite Place: The Outer Banks

Since moving to Virginia from the Midwest last year, I have found many exciting places to explore. I have driven the Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway in the Appalachian Mountains, walked through Fort Monroe, and visited the quaint town of Williamsburg. However, my favorite trip was to the Outer Banks. I found the landscape unique and the fresh seafood scrumptious. “People watching” on the beach was an introspective experience, as well as quite humorous. The relaxing atmosphere also impelled me to do some much-needed inner reflection.

One sultry day in July I drove my little red Volkswagen convertible, with the top down, to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. I slowly headed south in bumper-to-bumper traffic, through the tourist trap known as Nags Head. Souvenir shops were on nearly every corner. Just as numerous were restaurants, brimming with people dressed in shorts, sundresses, and swimsuits, waiting for the next available table. Bars with banners promoting the live bands performing that weekend were beckoning the young beachcombers. Thankfully, I was destined for a more serene location.

Leaving most of the traffic behind, I turned onto Highway 12 which narrowed into a two-lane road. I felt hopeful that my destination would be as appealing as the tourist brochure. As I drove the scent of the ocean engulfed me; it has a way of making the stresses of everyday life disappear. On the left side of the scenic road, over a ridge of sand, laid the crashing waves of the ocean, and on my right were the peaceful, calm waters of the sound. At certain points the road became so narrow I could imagine the ocean waves during a storm crashing over the little highway and spilling into the sound on the other side, drowning everything in its wake. Hundreds of homes built on stilts lined both sides of the shore for miles. Over the balconies hung brightly colored beach towels drying in the hot afternoon sun.

After passing through a few small towns, there was a nature preserve where no houses were built and no shops could be seen. Lining the road, though, were cars, trucks, and campers, loaded down with beach chairs, ice chests, and beach umbrellas. Tan, strong, young bodies carried surfboards under their muscular arms to go ride the waves. The teenagers’ laughter floated on the crisp cool breeze.

When I reached civilization, I saw my destination, a three-story apartment building on the sound side. Behind it was a shack, which offered everything from renting a contraption that looked like a tricycle with large plastic wheels, to windsurfing lessons three times a day. I was thrilled that my room was up on the third floor. The deck off the living room overlooked a fishing pier and faced the sunset in the evening. The apartment was completely furnished with everything I needed for a relaxing stay. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelf in the bedroom was full of interesting books. The kitchen was equipped with a refrigerator, dishwasher, and all the cooking utensils that I could ever need. Inside the closet door was even a hurricane-tracking map that thankfully I did not need.
After I had finished unpacking and settling in, it was time to fill the refrigerator for my week’s stay. I took a quick trip to the local market, and then I went to a fisherman’s retail fish shop. I was hesitant at first to buy anything from a little rusty trailer off the road nestled in between trees and driftwood, but my opinion changed when I walked through the screen door. Fresh fish lined both sides of the walls in metal bins full of ice. There is nothing like that in Kansas! Fresh scallops, cod, tuna, and shrimp were just a few of the delicacies. I choose red snapper, dolphin, (because I had never tried it before) and shrimp that were steamed for me in a spicy red seasoning while I waited.

Once I returned to the hotel, using quick start charcoal, I started to prepare my dinner. First, I poured a glass of Chardonnay to toast the beautiful sunset fast approaching. Next, a snapper filet on the grill with an ear of corn dressed in butter, salt, and wrapped back up in the husks. Fragrances of ocean air, grilled fish, and good wine swept around the deck causing my mouth to water. As the sun began to set, I prepared my plate, retrieved my glass from the kitchen, and sat down in a rocker that had obviously seen its share of ocean storms. I felt such contentment! Finally, with my mind and body relaxed, the feel of the breeze against my skin, and the delight of finishing a perfect meal, I ended my first day at the Outer Banks.

The next morning the squawking sound of seagulls woke me from a deep sleep. I quickly decided it was time to hit the beach. So, with a beach chair, towel, lotion, ice chest, umbrella, and a bag full of personal items, I headed for the beach looking like a true tourist. My body baked in the sun, shimmering with coconut-scented oil. I wanted that healthy glow the beautiful beach babes had from head to toe. As I lay there sweating like a man doing hard physical labor, I watched other people playing, sunbathing, and eating. There was a little girl about two years old, with her pink frilly one-piece bathing suit, walking toward the water with her pail and shovel, giggling delightfully. She made me think about how nice it would be to simply enjoy the beach and not be so concerned about how I looked with my white skin (maybe red would be a better description) and the bathing suit I was wearing that showed every fleshly flaw.

There was a man with a huge beer belly that drank Budweiser, one after the other, all day long. Every time I went to the beach there he was in his tropical shorts, drinking beer non-stop. He was a terrific swimmer though, swimming out farther than I would ever dare go, diving under the waves and riding them back to shore. He did that about every thirty minutes to get rid of the beer, I suspect.

Years ago when I lived in San Diego I swam in the ocean on my boogie board. I figured I would enjoy that again, so I bought a boogie board and started to walk out into the water. AHH! I couldn’t do it! I was afraid. “Afraid of what?” I asked myself. Well, there were the creepy things in the water I couldn’t see, like sharks! In addition, there was the under current that could drag me out to sea and not let me swim back in. Oh, and how about getting dragged under the waves and scratching my bare skin against the rocks, shells, and broken glass. I realized then that I was old. When we are young, we don’t think of anything but going out and having fun, but when we’re old we get cautious.
I did eventually swim out beyond the breakers where the water was calm, but then I started to think about the man with the beer belly swimming out to relieve himself and what I might be swimming in. I decided I was content to spend my time sprawled out on my Mini-Mouse beach towel with a good book, snacks, and ice-cold bottled water. Occasionally, I would walk into the water up to my knees and splash my body and face with the salty water to cool off. A few times, I took a stroll down the beach to feel the water rush over my feet and the sand shift beneath me.

Each day I spent at the Outer Banks renewed my spirit, allowed me to unwind, and presented me with the time I needed to take a good look at my life from a perspective other than as a stressed-out basket case. I rekindled my interest in art, as I drew pictures of my new surroundings. I sketched the tiny sailboats in the ocean, the pier jutting into the sound with waves crashing in around its posts, the fishermen with their big heavy poles hoping for something they could call a prize catch, and, of course, the sunset in the horizon.

I also set a new goal in my life: learning to windsurf. If I can do that, maybe I will get over this “I’m too old” feeling. It will be a real accomplishment for me, and meeting that fear head on will help me become more confident in life.

I plan to make another trip to the Outer Banks when the pressures of life become overwhelming again. Even now, as I visualize the sunset, the terrain, and the food, I begin to feel my muscle tension ease and my breathing slow. I look forward to once more enjoying the peacefulness of life at the Outer Banks, soaking in the sun, eating another perfect meal, and having time to reconnect with nature and myself.