Day 10
Well, first of all, I’m writing this from Brooklyn, Ned and I got back yesterday, and it’s very strange to be in all of our familiar places that right now, don’t feel so familiar at all. We are sitting in Urban Rustic, which is, like its name, one of the most Urban and the most Rustic places we’ve been in on this trip. We just finished breakfast of familiar food, the type with vegetables and not all fried and coffee that has actual milk in it rather then that “no refrigerator needed” creamer and mint tea. I’m trying to recall as much as possible from the trip so I can put it in words before in all mush together, but already I need to look at the pictures to remember where I was and what happened.
Leaving
When we wake up in the morning there’s this strange feeling of endings, we are about to start riding on the coastline toward home, basically, this is the farthest west we are going to get in this trip and now it’s just getting closer and closer to home all the time. Also, by looking at the map, I know we’ll be leaving North Carolina today, and unlike when we were leaving Virginia there’s no sense of accomplishment and adventures, but just sadness of leaving such a beautiful friendly place.
Also, we are in a hurry because Olga needs to be in the Harley store in Kitty hawk at 3:00 for her 5000 miles check up, this is the first time since the trip started that we needed to be anywhere is a specific time and that also makes me feel like the vacation is over in a way and that now it’s only the going back part.
We are riding through Orcacoke, which we have rode before in the night, but now, I can see how beautiful this island is, on one side of the road, there are big white sand dune and part them, the ocean, On the other side, a lot of trees and grass and the sound. I past a white bird, that’s so still I think for a second it’s a lawn ornament but then it takes off and fly and then, of course, I’m sad I didn’t take a picture of it. The air is clear and fresh from the rain last night and there are big blue puddles that look like little lakes on the sand dunes.
We are taking the ferry to the next Island which is about 40 minutes away. As we are parking Olga, a couple in their 60’s come over and looks at the bike, we start talking to them, they are really nice. They tell us how they come to this area every year for the past decade or so, they plan to retire here is 2 or 3 years and looking for a place, they both love birds and the oceans and really love North Carolina. “We are from New Jersey, but we don’t like New Jersey” they clarify, “We don’t have any children so there’s nothing tying us down aside of our jobs but that’s going to be done soon”. The husband give us recommendations about the good roads to take and the wife is going back to their car to get some magazine about the area with discount coupons and information, she asks a lot of questions about the motorcycle, and I can’t help imagine both of them in half face helmets and big leather jackets in a couple of years riding around the island to help the wildlife.
Kitty Hawk
We ride on the island which is beautiful, the houses are all ice cream colors and the sky and water are vivid blue. It’s very quiet and very empty, the rental summer houses are still unoccupied and have big “for sale” and “for rent” signs on them, the hotels are still vacant, pools are still dry and a lot of the stores have “closed” signs. It feels like we came into a place right before it wakes up, like it’s still very early I the morning and none of the lights are on.
There are a million places I want to stop in, a couple of museums, a couple of lighthouses, the beach, the town, but we need to go on.
Eventually we find the store, and a really nice guy called Steve takes the bike in, letting us leave the helmets and bags on her while he’s working. We go into the store and the girls in the rental departments are giving us the name of the closest restaurant where we go to have lunch.
On the way back we walk on a small road, just an area where people live with houses, a small church overlooking a playground and a graveyard, a field – it’s very odd to be off the bike and in this really quite place, without the sound of the highway or the bike’s engine, to be walking and holding hands again and talking, after those full days of silent riding. The sun is strong and warm and everything looks so fresh and clean and peaceful. I keep imagining, in every place we stop, what it would be like, to live there, in such a different place from where I live now.
Not quite sure what to do next, we go back to the Harley store, I work on the computer, Ned goes to check on the bike, we talk to the people in the store, we look up where we want to stop for the night, and give up on that half way through. Sitting down and not moving for so long after those days of riding, makes me tired and disoriented and frustrated. Steve is finding some problem with the right blinker, so it takes more time till he figures out he doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s being really apologetic and sad about not finding the solution, as if he failed something big. Eventually we move on.
We stop for lunch at a very cool diner on the other side of a gas station and make hotel reservation to a place on Virginia Beach. We ride as it’s getting darker, there’s a sliver of a new moon in the sky, which I keep trying to take pictures of even though I know they will come out all dark.
