Dennis was up before me for the 2nd day in a row. How embarrassing! We skipped any camp breakfast, intending to stop at a place a friend had recommended in Virginia Beach. Unfortunately it had closed and moved to Norfolk, but that gave us an excuse to go over a couple blocks and get breakfast overlooking the beach at one of dozens of high-rise hotels that proceed in an unending line (I swear I saw 3 different Hampton Inns.)

We had a couple different route possibilities to reach today’s destination, one through a more rural area, but with a ferry crossing, and the other more direct,  but through miles of Suburban Hell.  Dennis is generally a bigger fan of Suburban Hell than I am (well, at least more tolerant of it), so I was quite pleased that he had chosen the more rural route.  He took a shot at leading for several miles and did a good job (meaning, resisting his natural urge to push too hard), but I was happy that he was smart enough to hand the leadership duties back to me for the rest of the ride.  Still better safe than sorry.  The route took us across some marsh areas, which reminded me of Kerala’s backwaters in India, which is actually where Swati is right now.  I said that she should sail back a few of their rice-barge-cum-houseboats, and we could start up a new business doing Indian backwater tours on the Eastern Seaboard.

A favorable wind and Dennis’s self-sealing Slime tubes helped us make it to the ferry, 40 miles in, with 20 minutes to spare.  On the other side, we pressed on, hoping to find a lunch spot on our route, and shortly before we were about to give up and settle for a gas-station lunch, we were saved by an excellent BBQ place.  Appropriate, since we had just entered our 5th state, North Carolina.

Another 30-some miles brought us across a 2 mile bridge, and onto the Outer Banks (or OBX, as the cool people say).  Yet again the weather gods smiled upon us, as a cool front moved through last night, making it downright beautiful if you’re close enough to the ocean.

We’re staying at non-sucky private campground #2, Adventure Bound.  It’s a curious place, tent-only with no designated sites, a communal fire ring, and a towering 3 story bathhouse. And wandering peacocks. When I read about the setup on their site, I was worried that it was a lure from some strange religious cult, but no evidence of that has appeared.

A post-shower/post-laundry unloaded ride into Kitty Hawk brought us to a pizza/salad buffet where I got my money’s worth with 8 slices.  When I stepped out of the shower I noticed my ribs were more visible than normal, so hopefully this will help remedy that.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 9th, 2010 at 7:02 pm and is filed under 2010 Bike Tour. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.