Volunteer fun

Loved zipping around the countryside (in a car) as one of many volunteer photographers for the Bike MS event in New Bern this past weekend. My assignment:  rest stops. But I shot other stuff too. A fun assignment--M.J., you would've been an excellent companion on this photo jaunt.

Cyclists near Oriental, NC.

The organization used the photos for a slideshow for participants, and posted them to a web site.

Still waters

Brices Creek is #13 of the official "Twin Rivers Paddle Trails" in the New Bern area.

From our back yard boat ramp, this morning I set off in the yellow kayak, coffee in the convenient cup-holder, the water itself still and dark as coffee, with shreds of mist in the slanting sunbeams.

Morning mist, a sign that summer is waning (2008 photo).

No sounds except crickets, the occasional woodpecker, the drip from paddle blades, and the splash of jumping fish, at least a dozen.  Some of them I saw cleared the surface by what looked like two feet.

Cruised into "Stillwater Harbour," (yes, with a "u") a former quarry now on the verge of becoming a marina for a prospective development "where nature is your neighbor." (No "u.")

That tagline, which I saw on one of the project's brochures, cracks me up. Their promotional materials show acres of uninhabited woodlands and blue (?) waters. But that's soon to become "64 homesites, including 36 waterfront and 28 interior homes...with docks, sidewalks....[T]he community offers the best in all-natural living."  So far, only one house has been built there.

Actually, the best in all-natural living is in the fishing camps on the southern side of the "harbour."  These trailers and cabins--some funky and primitive, some well-tended--and their modest, weathered, mostly rickety docks, have served as getaways for folks for a long time, it appears.  Under tall trees, on the narrow band of land that separates the quarry from Brices Creek, these sites are "waterfront" both fore and aft.  Last Sunday, a fellow in farmer's denim overalls sat in a lawn chair on the creek bank, smoking a pipe--a timeless Labor Day weekend scene.

The contrast between this simple setting and its neighboring community-to-be of "neo-traditional" homes is typical of the evolution of New Bern.  We're part of that change, of course, as are the many other newcomers here.  As it grows, can New Bern maintain balances between the egalitarian and the esoteric, the traditional and trendy, pokiness and prosperity, charm and sophistication?

Pirates and Earl

Eli and Luke

The Grandchildren loved being on the beautiful The Outer Banks, Blackbeard's former stomping grounds: they are going through a pirate phase, which is more difficult in Upstate New York.  Meeting the Hart family there allowed us to revisit Avon, Hatteras, and Ocracoke, coming home by ferry--before Earl struck.

This marina bar on Ocracoke served up a tasty lunch of grilled drum.

The storm was a non-event in Craven County, where we live. However, Ocracoke lost all power, and Route 12--the vulnerable road that extends along the sometimes very narrow sandbar that is the Outer Banks--was flooded, by water and sand.

Preparing for Earl, however, did inspire me to put together our household emergency kit.

Everything but a whistle and a change of clothes.  And a good book.

We also hauled the boat out of the water.  This precaution was a somewhat nerve-wracking process for us novices.  But as usual, neighbor Ted, our creek guru, helped us out.  Tim did a fine job of driving the truck and trailer.  This was a fortunate exercise, since when we were done, the winch strap gave out.  If this had happened sometime when we were cranking the boat onto the trailer, the SS Sweet Caroline would've slid backwards into the water without anyone at the helm.  We replaced the strap right away.

Still, no rush to relaunch: now that we have a boat sitting on a trailer in the yard, we feel like real Eastern North Carolinians.

Except most Eastern North Carolinians probably don't have organic soup in their emergency kits.

Civilization, and an Unwelcome Call of the Wild

Happy to have our new sturdy deck, and hope you will someday join us for a cocktail on "the octagon."

We promise you won't have the view we had yesterday: a small deer carcass had floated into our canal.  Our neighbor said she had never seen something "that gross" in our back yard blackwater byway.  With my assistance, Tim bravely prodded the thing (I will spare you a description) back into the current where it drifted (too slowly) away. We hope it continues to shuffle off its mortal coil in the wilderness.  Today, the creek is high, and the rain is heavy and, we feel, cleansing.

We've had a drought all summer, and of course now that we're headed to the beach, it's pouring. We're off to the Outer Banks for a short overnight visit with The Grandchildren and Meg and Dave. They're in a rental house with Dave's parents.  We'll be nearby in what looks like a quaint beachy place:  The Lighthouse View.  Then we will return via ferry from Ocracoke Island.  To take your car on this ferry costs $15.  In contrast, a car one-way for non-residents on the Martha's Vineyard ferry costs $67, plus the $7.00 fare per adult passenger. It'll be a scenic relaxing trip--if it's not raining like it is now.

The "Let's Talk About It" series on "literature and the law" started yesterday evening at the library with Melville's Billy Budd.  I hope the ferry captain does not evoke martial law and hang me from the yardarm if I get unruly.

Upon our return, we'll be able to enjoy the Art and Wine Festival. Ah, civilization.

Back from holiday

 Visiting Eleanor and FDR at their Hyde Park home.

We're back from our holiday, having driven over 2000 miles (Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, Ohio, West Virginia), reuniting with friends and family and stopping at interesting sites from Thomas Jefferson's Monticello

to the Hopewell Culture National Historical Park.

Yesterday, after a fine evening boat ride, our neighbor Ted called us over to his dock.  He'd trapped 3 large blue crabs in a crab pot he'd lowered into the creek.  What a beautiful shade of periwinkle on their shells.  He alleged that many of the "local" crabs served in the Chesapeake Bay area are actually from around here.

4th of July in Eastern North Carolina

Attended Guinness Book of World Records biggest bun ceremony in Union Point Park.  Anticlimactic, as it was really hard to see; the goings-on probably should have been elevated on a platform. I did get one pre-reveal picture of the sacred bun, still enshrouded in plastic wrap. 

Dignitaries spoke.  The bun was measured and authenticated, then laden with Eastern North Carolina barbecue (like pulled pork, but with a vinegar-y sauce added by the individual diner) and cole slaw, until it achieved the record-breaking weight:  over 1000 pounds.

 

 We vamoosed soon after.  Spent most of the afternoon in the hammock, reading and watching wildlife (rabbits, hummingbirds, herons--no gators, though allegedly a four-footer was spotted in the creek last week!).  That night, we parked the pick-up in a vacant lot "in the darkness on the edge of town," in the words of Bruce Springsteen.  Many other cars and families gathered there, "beneath that giant Outback sign," to paraphrase, this time, B. Springsteen. Watched fireworks from lawn chairs set up in the truck bed, toasting Independence.

Projects done, and bun fun

The old deck has been removed.
The septic tank has been located
And pumped, and so improved.
We are elated.
Now onward to a redesign
Of a new deck--it should be fine.

The brick steps, now revealed, will be 

Surrounded by herbs eventually. 

Miss Shannon worked her seamstress magic
On sunroom cushions--love the fabric.

 Before, and after:

With cooler air, and higher water,
Boating will be an option later.

We're looking forward to big fun
On July 4th: the largest bun
In all the world will be displayed
Here in New Bern--no parade,
But music and fireworks for everyone.

Happy Independence Day
To our friends across the U.S.A.