I spent the weekend with friends down in Dare county. We stayed in Stumpy Point, a village precariously situated between miles of swamp and the north side of Stumpy Point Bay. It's a small place, population 200 give or take, with just one road. In the evenings, a dinner bell summons folks to the community center for supper -- and they go. Most everybody crabs or fishes for a living, and half of the houses are falling down, leftovers from hurricane Irene. They have a church, a cemetery, a ball field, the community center, a trading post (read: it's a bar), a fire/rescue station, a water desalination plant, and a modest post office. Sounds like a lot, really it's not much. Rusted crab pots line the road.
I drove down by myself on Friday afternoon, with Mabel. (Heading east towards the ocean with a dog by your side, p.s., is awesome).
Some things --
Went bear watching in the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge, a beautiful place but don't ask me to get out of the car.
Watched the sun set and the moon rise from a kayak out in the bay, and let me tell you: there is no better way to spend an evening.
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