Goosecreek Chronicle

An eerie, dark forest surrounded us, as we left the security of a paved road and turned onto the rough gravel drive. We were flanked on either side by swampy water. How far the water stretched, I couldn't tell in the darkness, but I had the distinct feeling dark space. Off to the right, I pointed to a small creature. Deer, I thought, but as I opened my mouth to speak the word, it morphed and I saw it was actually an old, broken pine. "What a strange wood," I said.

After about a mile, we pulled off to one side and turned off the car. It was pitch-black night, and the moon - "like to a silver bow, new-bent in heaven" - was gone below the horizon. We worked in frustrated silence, pitching the tent, gathering firewood, beating away mosquitos. After a grumpy fireside meal of tofu dogs, we went to bed - Susan and I in one tent, and Benji in another. That night, I law awake listening to the buzzing drone of a thousand mosquitos thirsty for my blood.

I awoke just at dawn to the "queer, queer" call of a woodpecker. The morning brought a reprieve from the mosquitos and revealed the woodland. Goosecreek State Park sits on the Pamlico River and showcases open pine stands on sandy soils and an abundance of red-headed woodpeckers. The towns near the park are small and quaint - it's back-country: flat farmland, tobacco, and churches. We spent the afternoon in Washington (locally called "original" Washington) strolling down the boardwalk and the main street. We stopped at an tiny bait shop and tourist shack to ask about kayak rentals. The old man behind the desk and I had about the laziest conversation we could, chewing the fat, more concerned with the process of the conversation rather than the content of discussion.

He directed us to the east end of town, where first we let Benji jump in the river, and second terrorize a family reunion. After we recovered our pooch, we strolled across the street, gave up on the kayak rentals, and instead drank beer and ate shrimp at Backwater Jack's Tiki Bar. The sunshine and the breeze, the pooch and the beer, the food, the good company made me feel warm.
 

Swimming in the sound.

It was a very hot day, so back at the park we went to a beach area and waded out into the Pamlico. The water was a warm bath and a bit salty. We could walk out the muddy bottom for a hundred feet or more, and we took turns holding onto Benji to give his legs a break from the paddle.

That night, around the dinner fire for as long as we could stand the mosquitos, and then in the tent by torch light, we took turns reading trashy, pop-fiction to one another. We slept soundly except for one incident where our neighbor (a.k.a., Creepy Dave) woke us up to tell us he was leaving and we were welcome to his left-over firewood. I appreciate the sentiment, Dave.

Life is so bright, I gotta wear shades!

The next day, we took a long drive to the Kitty Hawk where the sun was so hot and bright that our first stop was at a five and dime to buy some shades (one at a time, taking turns holding onto Benji). Across the street at the beach, we tried to get Benji into the water, but he coward at the waves. Susan had a great time, though. You can tell that her heart is in the sea.

Lunch at Kitty Hawk

It didn't take long for us to tire out, and we went across the street to a dirty spoon for lunch and a beer. Since Benji didn't like the beach side of the outer banks, we went to the sound side for a swim. The sound was warm, had a muddy bottom, and long seaweed growing throughout it. After only a few minutes, we had to leave because Benji was terrorizing the other families. Instead of trying another location, we started the long drive home. It was fairly uneventful, except for the part where Benji peed in the car (he drank a lot of water, apparently). On the way home, we read to each other. For dinner, we went back to the island bar for a simple rice and bean plate.

Our last night was boozy and sweet, and the drive home the next day was easy. We enjoyed our time so much, we've decided to take another beach vacation at the beginning of November!