Parts of North Carolina Route 12 have to be plowed to remove the sand that blows onto it from the dunes on the ocean side of the road. I'm not sure I've ever seen sand plows, but I was certainly grateful that I didn't have to risk hitting a sand drift at speed. In addition to the sand drifts, getting to and from OBX involves a lot of bridges. I approach bridges with some trepidation since BOB is NOT aerodynamic. Having been moved out of my lane by the wind on Midwestern Interstates, I fear the same on bridges, and the consequences could be more dire.
I stopped at Ace Hardware in Manteo this morning. The gentleman who helped me recommended a putty in lieu of Lexel because it can handle the water pressure better. He said I needed to scrape off the Lexel I already applied to the hose junction. That will be challenging. I much prefer Ace and True Value to Home Depot and Lowe's because their footprints are smaller, and the service level is reminiscent of bygone mom-and-pop hardware stores. Tomorrow, I'll tackle that project.
I'm now in Emerald Isle, North Carolina. En route, I spent a couple of hours in New Bern so I could buy groceries at Harris Teeter and go to Bank of America. Harris Teeter is a subsidiary of Kroger, and my first experience with it was terrific, albeit odd. Although most grocery stores stock goods similarly, there are always nuances both to their layouts and my particular shopping needs, such that it takes me twice the normal amount of time to shop. I had to ask an employee where I could find fresh pasta and he walked me to the cooler. I asked him if the store was always so crowded at one in the afternoon. He responded, "On Thursdays? Sure, it's Seniors Day!" I guess they get a discount on their purchases on Thursdays. Perhaps the chain is trying to keep them out of the store on the weekend when the working stiffs shop. Thank God it was not Singles Seniors Day! I entered my phone number (which is registered with Kroger) at the self-checkout station, and it wasn't recognized. I told the attendant that I have a Kroger card and she said, "Well, this is Harris Teeter." Right, I know. Why isn't my ID synchronized throughout the chain? Kroger, make it so.
I called the RV Park on Emerald Isle from New Bern. The young man who answered the phone took my name, number, and RV type and size. He said I could pick a spot when I arrived. He called me "Ms. Knox." I love that because "Mrs. Knox" is my mother. When I checked in, his politeness and graciousness continued, which only made him more handsome if that is possible. (Southern women know how to raise their children. They should write a book on parenting, and Northerners should be forced to read it before they have children.) An hour and a half later, as I was walking my recycling to the bins a quarter of a mile from BOB, a foursome of employees stopped and offered to take it from me. They all smiled, said hello, and said they'd sort it for me. They are well-raised, well-trained young men who gave me back 20 minutes of my evening.
Military planes are flying over me. I have not done anything to warrant the surveillance, yet.
I put away my dry goods this afternoon after I set up camp and I realized that I'm hoarding Pomi strained tomatoes and Starbucks coffee. Kim and Kate live in a food desert in Delaware, and Jean and I experienced the same in Utah after we left Moab. OBX and Emerald Isle are similar. Neither Pomi nor Starbucks were on my list today, but I grabbed them because they're not always available. I resisted the urge to pick up some DeCecco pasta because I was pretty sure I had a box of fusilli. That was a good thing because I have two. I bought more Chobani key lime yogurt, too, although I already had enough to get me to Charleston. Other than milk, some lunch items, and some fresh vegetables, I have at least two weeks of dinner on board. I don't think I ever had that much food in my condo in Providence.
Siobhan M. Knox
In May 2016, I bought a five ton, 25’ long Class C motorhome because I like to drive, I like to travel, and it’s more fun and less expensive than living in a hotel. No prior RV experience was required, and I had none: perfect. I’m writing a book about my adventures which will come to an end when I get a job. The dogs will be sad.