Over 30 Towns We Loved in North Carolina

From the Crystal Coast to mountains shrouded in smoke, two-thousand miles later, my trip across North Carolina was complete. Driving all day, I watched the landscape change from the familiar suburbs of New York and the industry of Jersey, to the flat farmlands of Delaware. As I bobbed up and down across the Delaware Memorial Bridge with the cool air blowing off the water, I got my first premonitions of the Carolina coast.

Upon my arrival in the Outer Banks, I headed straight for the beach. A couple of families were lingering together on the mostly empty shore. As the swollen red sun slipped down the horizon two small boys played in the surf at their feet, chasing each other and jumping at the breaking waves. A little girl was playing tag with the tide, running to the edge and up again as the foam approached her feet. Mom and Dad, Aunt and Uncle were reading books, occasionally pausing to referee from the side lines. They looked like they found the peace they sought when they left for vacation. I enjoyed the feeling of the fine white sand between my toes before I jumped into the bracing waves. The cold, salty water replaced hours of sweat, smog and traffic, swallowing my fatigue whole, and leaving nothing behind. Feeling refreshed and hungry, I got out of the water and headed back to Route 158, which makes up the major transit and commercial artery of the Outer Banks.

Sitting at a restaurant bar, I got my first taste of southern hospitality via a free order of wings, courtesy of a kitchen mistake. Regardless of the cause I was ecstatic with the outcome, and as I dropped discarded bones into the plate before me I wondered why this never happens up north. Where does all of the mistake food go?