A day before Thanksgiving we have much to be thankful for. But before I pontificate on the meaning of family and good friends, here's the good news: WE ARE MOVING TO MUSIC CITY! TODAY! The movers show up in a half hour or so.
Here are some things we are looking forward to in Nashville:
More to come as we contemplate purchases of whitewater kayaks (kind of like buying skii's in the summer time, should be cheap!), discover all the local hikes and music venues. The blog is going to take a new turn I sense, as we enter the winter months. More music, less hikes probably. Stay tuned.
Before I begin, let me just say that you will notice a conspicuous lack of video footage from the summit of Mt. Mitchell. This is because we never made it to the summit, unfortunately, for reasons I will expound upon shortly. I worry we have sacrificed what tiny fragment of hiking cred we may have had preceding this most difficult hike, but I can explain see, the packs were 40 pounds a piece, and we didn't get started until 4:30 and it was dark by the time we came upon the first campsite and the next morning the group was less than than motivated to pack the rest of our gear up the mountain and back down the vertical slope before dark. Excuses...
So we got a late start, and were punished every step we took in the dark on this most treacherous trail. Here is some footage from around the fire that night, as we were so exhausted after 3 hours of packing in that we failed to capture much of the way up the mountain.
We woke up on day 2 with a group of 6 other campers/hikers and made our way back down, taking a brief detour onto the Higgins Bald Trail and then meeting back up with the Mt. Mitchell Trail. The Mt. Mitchell trailhead begins at the Black Mountain Campground. You can find more info at this link:
A word to would-be backpackers on this trail - the best bet for breaking this hike up is to do what we did not do, and take the first fork you see for the Higgins Bald Trail. There is a small marker that has a red tag pointing up the hill to Mt. Mitchell. At this junction, if you head to your left you will find several palatial camping spots before linking back up with the Mt. Mitchell trail. If you proceed on the Mt. Mitchell trail however, it will be another mile of rough switchback hiking before you reach the first camp worthy spot, and it's a tight squeeze for more than a couple of tents. It's also not exactly flat, as we found we were constantly awaking with our feet pushing through the nylon at the bottom of the tent.
Some commentary regarding the condition of the trail:
Day 2 was infinitely more enjoyable once we found a good car camping spot down the hill near the Black Mountain campground. Black Mountain closes on November 1, so don't plan to camp there if you are doing a late fall hike like we were. However, there are multiple GREAT spots just off the road proceeding past the campground on the right by the river.
We set up camp and enjoyed a late night of laughter (and fire puns, see below) and sore muscles before packing up the next morning and heading back to Raleigh.
Were we to do it again, here's how it would have gone:
Begin hike at 9am, hike leisurely to Higgins Bald Trail and camp night 1 off the trail
Leave our campsite up and get an early start morning 2, around 8am to the summit
Get back down by 2 or so and pack up, hike the rest of the way to the sites near Black Mountain campground
Enjoy a big meal involving grilled meat by the river
Well folks, it's an exciting week of anticipation here at the Hollar household as we prepare for a backpacking weekend at Mt. Mitchell. Mt. Mitchell is the highest peak east of the Mississippi. The last time we were there was the day that Aaron proposed marriage, and that was quite a day let me tell you.
The headline might have read something like this:
Well meaning boyfriend fails to make camping reservation for intimate evening proposal, she says yes regardless!
We left on July 3rd, 2010 for Black Mountain after a Phish concert the night prior. The drive to Black Mountain is roughly 3 hours from our then hometown of Charlotte, however as we got lost once on the way up, it really took closer to 4 hours before we slowly crept through the packed Black Mountain campground. Aaron had read online that this was the penultimate spot for camping in North Carolina, but since the campground did not take reservations, it was completely full by the time we arrived and we had no recourse but to drive on to try to find another spot. Mt. Mitchell State Park was the closest to where we were, but driving from Black Mountain to Mt. Mitchell took another hour on the already packed Blue Ridge Parkway. With our dogs cramped in the backseat of Aaron's Chevy Trailblazer we made our way slowly to the peak, noting as we drove that the air was getting cooler, and it was getting foggier. On a clear day anywhere else in NC, Mt. Mitchell remains typically fogged over and when we arrived at the visitor center, the surrounding hills were all shrouded in a dark mist. It was, suffice it say, less than romantic. Aaron, having the good sense that he does, elected to turn back back down the mountain in hopes of a better spot.
After roughly 6 hours in the car when it should have been 3 and with daylight quickly fading around us, a decision was made to turn into the parking lot of "Bob's Fish Farm" where there appeared to be some tents set up near a creek on the same property. "Bob" was perched in a fold up chair outside his main building, and though I understood little of his grunts as we asked "can we camp here?" somehow we negotiated the reasonable rate of $10 per night to camp on Bob's land.
Let me tell you about Bob's land. On Bob's land, there were several 1970's trailers and RV's, clearly no longer functional yet clearly occupied by some of North Carolina's finest. There was a gorgeous creek that sat back about 100 yards off the main road and a couple of picnic tables by the river that suggested one might camp in those spots. And so we proceeded to set up camp.
Once it got dark I didn't mind the camping spot so much. The threat of a crystal meth tweeker/wife beater seemed a tad less ominous, though we did overhear a man yelling and pounding on one of the trailer doors "I know you're in there you slut!"
Aaron made a delicious meal of lamb and potatoes and we relaxed by the fire. Then I knew something was up. Aaron was putting all of the firewood we had procured on the fire, for no apparent reason, and was suddenly acting very strange. He came up next to me, got down on one knee and proposed. Never saw it coming. I said yes.
Now we are returning to Mt. Mitchell with backpacks, which is a handy alternative to counting on accessible car camping. We will venture up about 3 miles to the Commissary Ridge Campsite, which will be no easy feat. The Mt. Mitchell trail leaves the Black Mountain Campground parking lot trailhead and climbs roughly 3600 ft in 5.5 miles. A small price to pay for adding the east's highest peak to your list of hikes, but let's just see how we feel shall we?
What to do when one's tent is irreparably bent by wind overnight? Hike out and get the hell out of there is what we thought. The hike out was exciting - we saw a moose and a marmot, and talked about all the things we'd rather be eating than dehydrated backpacker food. We arrived back at the car at the Many Glacier Hotel in one piece, and just in time to catch the spray off of while caps on Lake Sherburne. 2 hours later off Highway 2 we called the owner of the Bad Rock Bed and Breakfast in Columbia Falls to confirm they could accommodate us for an unexpected early check in. Not only was Mark accommodating, he recommended a phenomenal place to stop on the way in - Perfect Cuts.
Bad Rock Bed and Breakfast, Columbia Falls MT
Perfect Cuts
With fantasies of dry aged Montana beef in our heads, we picked up speed to try and beat the clock to their door before closing time. Couldn't have been a better experience - two gorgeous rib eyes and a rub suggested by the proprietor and we were on our way to the most comfortable stay of our lives. A word about Bad Rock B&B - they have thought of EVERYTHING. Literally, everything. Need to know how the beautiful place was built? Check your binder in your room. Need to know where to eat? In the binder. Need hiking suggestions? In the binder. Need a razor or bear spray? Check the basket by the mantle in the big house. And the breakfast? PHENOMENAL! Need entertainment? There's a pool table, fire pit, even magnetic poetry, for your enjoyment. Here is someone who truly takes pride in what they do. I find that to be somewhat rare in the hospitality business.
So, what to do with our extra day that was originally intended for hiking in and around Logan Pass? We toyed with paying a fly fishing guide about 375 bucks for a half day on the Middle Fork of the Flathead River, but when it was raining when we woke up, we decided instead to head up to Whitefish which we had heard was a cool little ski town with a lot of great places to watch Saturday afternoon football.
We began at The Bulldog and made our way to the Great Northern Bar and Grill and Caseys before the day was finished. Met a couple of guys traveling up from San Francisco, as well as a local who informed us that in 15 years living and hiking around Glacier Park, he had never seen a single bear. That made us feel particularly special. Also met the head of sound for The Bachelor - tough life for her, traveling the globe and all. Now if we could just get our own show...
We had originally planned to dine at Tupelo - had heard great things - but alas the afternoon got away from us and we returned to Bad Rock for our final night in Montana.
Reflecting on this trip, were we to do it again, I think an early September arrival would have made more sense. We would have been able to do Going to the Sun Road which we missed, and hopefully had better weather. But all in all, as far as our adventures go thus far, this trip beat all we have experienced to date. Though we aspire to see all of the nation's National Parks before we die, we know Glacier National Park will always hold a special place in our hearts for its rough natural beauty, sense of mystique and danger, and raw wilderness.
We embarked for Many Glacier early, driving through snow and cows (just in the road, you know, hanging out) to finally arrive as the sun was breaking through the clouds. It was a sight to behold after nearly an hour driving through clouds - the giant mountains surrounding Lake Sherburne slowly came into view.
As we were driving the Many Glacier road we noticed several cars pulled off to the side and photographers pointing telephoto lenses up the hillside. Curious to see what the photos were all about, we slowed down and there they were - a mamma grizzly bear with two small cubs right behind her. She was foraging the hillside with her cubs. We knew at that moment that our hike was serious, that there were in fact bears active and moving in and around the park. We paused for a minute or two to watch, before driving on to the Many Glacier Hotel parking lot and the trailhead for Cracker Lake.
With healthy trepidation we entered the woods and began our hike. We shouted as we approached every switchback with our bear spray dangling from our hips, ready if we needed it. But it wasn't until we reached a berry field overlooking Cracker Flats that we really got very scared.
Lucky for us, the bears must have either heard us coming, or weren't interested. By mile 4 we were pretty tuckered out, filling up our Nalgene bottles using our water purifier at the stream we found in the final stretch of the hike. The final push towards the lake is a bit cruel as it appears when you see Mt. Siyeh that you are just one ridge over to the lake. We kept thinking we were so close! Instead, there are several ridges before you reach a vantage point for Cracker Lake. When we crested the final segment of uphill trail, the vantage point was spectacular. There below us was Cracker Lake, and it was the purest, most beautiful blue that I have ever seen.
Glacier Park has prepared for backcountry campers - a long pole provided us a perfect stash for our food and fragrant items and the food preparation area and campsites were clearly marked. With the sun setting behind Mt. Siyeh, we quickly prepared dinner (dehydrated Kung Pao Chicken and Kathnandu Curry) as daylight faded and readied ourselves for bed. Imagine my utter shock and dismay when I knocked over the Nalgene full of red wine I had been looking forward to all day!
What we didn't anticipate was the 70-80 mph gusts that would plague our poor Big Agnes tent all night. By morning the tent was nearly plastered against our faces - no match for the gale force winds. My eyes widened as I saw our tent poles in the early morning light, bent in nearly a 90 degree angle by the relentless wind. I crawled out and to my delight, spotted a tiny sliver of light casting a pink glow on the top of the surrounding cirque. We had survived the night.
I should note here that we did not pass as single soul on the entire trail on the way in or on the way out. I suppose most folks have the good sense not to brave this section of trail in the fall. We lucked out on the weather both days. I can only imagine what that night would have been like had it been raining or snowing with our poor tent as debilitated as it was! As we arrived at the car, I felt a sense of relief wash over me, knowing somehow we had braved some of the wildest wilderness I have ever experienced at a less than ideal time of year.
With our tent in disrepair we had no other option than to head for the bed and breakfast in Columbia Falls a day earlier than anticipated.
We arrived in Kalispell by airplane around 1:15 on Wednesday 10/10 and wasted no time getting our rented Toyota 4 Runner to the super market to pick up a few essentials we couldn't get before we left. I had called ahead to our Bed and Breakfast where we planned to stay on Saturday night, to ensure they had our reservation, and the owner generously offered to loan us camp stove fuel and bear spray. Apparently he had a surplus of these items as folks often purchase them while they are here and then have to leave them behind because you can't bring them on the plane. More on the B&B later, for now we were heading to Apgar to beat the 4pm closing time in order to obtain our backcountry camping permit for Cracker Lake the following night. The ranger looked at us quizzically when we told him where we were headed. "The bears are extremely active this time of year. Please use caution around the switchbacks at the beginning of the trail, because as i said, they are VERY active right now and you don't want to surprise one. Also, have you checked the weather? Its going to be really windy at Cracker Lake. Do you have warm weather gear and extra clothing?"
This should have foreshadowed what was coming, but with our best intentions we carried on. When you go to get a permit, they require you to watch a 15 minute long bear safety video. The video includes such tips as yelling "bear bear bear" before you come around a blind corner. That way the bears can know where you are, and we mused, have less trouble finding you to eat you. The video also demonstrates how to properly operate bear spray. Interestingly, bear spray contains vegetable matter that once sprayed, can actually ATTRACT bears. We left the ranger station completely convinced the bears had been behind the production of the entire video. Thanks Jim Gaffigan, I believe you said it best.
After snapping a few photos at the gorgeous overlook of Lake Macdonald...
...and generally reveling in the glee of finally being in this gorgeous place, we got back in the 4 Runner for an hour's drive to the Two Medicine Lake Campground, where we had planned to spend night 1. As usual for us, the weather was not cooperative. As snow began to fall, we quickly changed into our cold weather gear and made a couple of hot drinks - apple cider and cinnamon schnapps to be precise, and then headed out to explore. As you can see, the clouds obscured much of the scenery.
The camping that night was incredibly cold. A special thanks to North Face and Marmot for excellent cold weather gear that despite the 10 degree overnight low, kept us warm and toasty. Though neither one of us slept particularly well with the thought of bear attacks in our head, we were still more comfortable than anticipated and awoke the next morning to adventure on to Many Glacier and Cracker Lake.
A note here: we found out after the fact this morning at the B&B that two hikers from the east coast went missing in the Two Medicine Lake area the day we were there. They had apparently obtained back country permits to hike into Oldman Campground, and were not seen or heard from at the time they were supposed to check out. More info can be found here and our thoughts are with these men and their families. A grave reminder of how dangerous this area is at this time of year.
Camping with friends has many benefits, but on this particular trip it was essential, since our friends Chris and Cortney had successfully navigated this trail multiple times and knew exactly where to take us when we arrived in the pitch dark from Raleigh at approximately 10:30PM. A short vertical section preceded the largely flat traverse over a hill and down to the campsite. Total mileage was only about 1.5, but it was our first backpacking trip in, so with the unfamiliar weight on our backs it seemed a bit longer. Still, nothing we couldn't easily take on and enjoy.
The campsites at Wilson's Creek have some pretty amazing scenery. We were camped next to a tributary of the main creek, and the sound of rushing water delighted us as we made giant steaks on the campfire and even attempted chocolate cake. I had originally wanted to attempt to bake the cake in orange peels as I had seen on backpacker.com, however we left the oranges in Aaron's truck by accident and had to improvise with one of our metal pots. It still tasted pretty damn good, especially being a bit raw in the middle. I recommend coating the bottom of the aluminum pot liberally with butter to prevent sticking to the sides.
Breakfast the next morning was equally interesting - we attempted to create what were essentially danishes by placing a dollop of cherry pie filling into a flattened piece of raw crescent role before folding it in foil and placing it by the fire. Had it not been for burning on the bottom, these would have been absolutely delicious. For those trying it, we recommend using tongs or a rack to keep the foil packs warm over the fire, but to continually move them around so they do not burn on any one side. Total cook time was around 20 minutes.
The next day we set out as a group to do the short day hike to the waterfall at Wilson's Creek. Along the way we passed what has got to be the coolest and best kept secret to Wilson's creek. By the waterfall there is a specific campsite where someone had taken the trouble to pull large rocks from the bed of the shore and arrange them into what appears to be living room furniture. There are two arm chairs, a sofa, and an end table fashioned from solid granite. These all face a sizable half moon bowl shaped from a granite batholith, the perfect receptacle for a blazing fire, where the heat can reflect off to the campers lounging in their nature made living room. Very very cool. We almost packed up and moved our site over there but unfortunately time would not have permitted this by the time we finished up fly fishing for that day (still caught nothing!).
That night we dined on pasta and drank red wine, tired from the overbearing heat that had turned our little backpacker tent into an Indian sweat hut the night prior. Cortney had a harrowing run in with a spider earlier in the day and still hadn't quite seemed to recover. The next morning we packed up and headed out to do more fishing (still caught nothing!). All in all, HIGHLY recommend this as a beginners backpacking trip. Definitely lots of options for shorter hikes or longer hikes depending on what you're up for, and you can play it by ear for the most part.
The raft guide lines up the raft through the froth shouting "dig! dig! dig! all forward!" as we paddle like the dickens directly at large rock in front of us, named Pillow Rock, for its effect of creating a pillow of white water. My heart pounds in my chest, certain we are going to flip off the face of this rock and directly into the Class V waters beneath us. We emerge, victorious, see below:
This was our second Gauley season, having caught the fever last year on Bridge Day. For those unfamiliar, Bridge Day is the one day a year that authorities allow BASE jumping from the New River Gorge Bridge. If you time it right, you can book a Bridge Day Special with New and Gauley River Adventures www.gauley.com and you will end a four hour New River whitewater rafting trip by watching people jump from the bridge and parachute down in 30 second intervals. Quite a site indeed. Because Bridge Day takes place mid-October, we opted this year for a warmer trip and settled on going in September with some of our friends from Charlotte. We also opted for a Lower Gauley/Upper Gauley reverse trip in lieu of New River/Gauley combo. This means that Saturday you raft the tamer Lower Gauley to warm up for Sunday morning, when you tackle the five Class V rapids of the Upper not to mention the numerous Class IV's.
We lucked out with the weather for the first time in a while - four days of gorgeous, crisp fall afternoons could not have gone better. We took full advantage of the car camping experience and packed everything but the kitchen sink. The first night we made Low Country Boil when we came off the river. Here are instructions if you have the good sense to recreate this meal at your campsite (it's easy!)
Low Country Boil aka the easiest and best camping meal you can make
In a Dutch Oven, fill about 1/4 way up with water and a liberal amount of Old Bay seasoning
Add and boil red potatoes in water for 20 minutes
Add ears of corn cut in half and continue to boil for another 10 minutes
(If you enjoy Adouille sausage you can add it in here with the corn, only needs to warm up)
Add frozen peel and eat shrimp and more Old Bay, and keep a close eye - usually 3 or 4 minutes will do for the shrimp
Pour the contents out on some newspaper on the picnic table at the site. Enjoy.
Our good friend Jen Hill managed to swim a Class V on the Lower that Saturday, Lower Mash, and it scared the bejesus out of all of us. This was followed shortly after by my failed attempt to 'ride the bull' whereby you sit on the front tube of the raft and cling to a greased up rope while rafting through a huge wave train. This ended in hysterics as I flopped all over the front of the boat like a fish trying to get free. I think I peed a little because I was laughing so hard.
Sunday morning we rose before the dawn to make a 6:30am departure for Sommersville Dam. I was up at 5:45 percolating coffee for our weary group (Saturday night had been a late one for a few of us). We made it through the safety orientation, with Jen's face growing increasingly wan as the guide covered what to do when you fall in. "This is not a float down the river with your feet up and hope to get rescued river," he said. "If you fall in, you are going to have to swim for your life back to the raft." "The Upper Gauley is not for everyone" he continued "and if you have doubts about whether or not you can handle this, you need to let us know now. Because once we get down there we can't get you out until the end of the trip. There is no where to evacuate you."
The anticipation building, we waddled in our wetsuits and boarded the raft. The next three hours were full of screaming, laughter and adrenaline as we crushed unscathed through Insig, Pillow Rock, Lost Paddle and Iron Ring. We had just had a successful run down Sweets Falls when our guide decided we would in fact attempt the harrowing Box Canyon - site of most of the carnage videos you see on youtube. Here is one such video:
Fortunately, we emerged unscathed! It was only Julie's Juicer at the very end that got one of our crew in the water - I watched as Aaron went heels up off the left side of the raft. And I laughed.
Sunday night was a comedown from the adrenaline induced craze of the day. We regretfully left on Monday which happened to be Race Day and there is allegedly a pretty epic party the night after the race. We dined at the delicious new burrito place next to the campground at New and Gauley River Adventures, and highly recommend you do as well. All in all, fantastic guides - thanks Tony and Mark! and a lot of fun.
Hot Springs, NC is a common destination for Aaron and I in large part due to the fact that I lived there for a summer while I was raft guiding on the French Broad river. I have loved the town ever since and have brought Aaron along on multiple trips. Typically we set aside a few hours to drive up to Max Patch and take in the phenomenal vistas of 360 degrees of mountains at the top. This time, weather shut us down. We set up camp on Friday in stifling heat at the Rocky Bluff Campground.
For those who have never been to Rocky Bluff, the campground has been virtually deserted on the three occasions I have camped there. Adding to the overall creepy vibe, a cemetery on the upper hill of the campground has mossy tombstones of deceased pre-1900. This is probably not the place to take a group of kids who are easily scared! The campgound is easy to reach though, for those who prefer solitude to the more crowded Hot Springs campground in the middle of town. In fact its only about 15 minutes up 209. It has no showers though, so be prepared to rough it.
The most winning feature of Rocky Bluff n is the proximity to Spring Creek, which at high water is a daring adventure in a kayak. At lower water there are several marked honey holes where one can easily snag brown trout. A trail leads you from the campground down to Spring Creek in approximately .5 miles. There is an additional trail accessible from the hill in the campground leading to a scenic overlook with a bench. I have often thought this is an ideal place for a marriage proposal.
Friday night we were camping in a downpour and woke up with half our tent soaked. It was our fault for not camping on the tent pad, but nonetheless dispiriting. We made it through most of the day Saturday despite continuous rain and as our Brunswick stew finished up on the grill we made an executive decision to bail out (the radar showing no end to the rain in site) and instead holed up in a beautiful cabin owned by Mountain Magnolia Inn. On our way we stopped at Bluff Mountain Outfitters, who set us up with a phenomenal deal on two Osprey packs, an Eno hammock, and a brand new sleeping bag for Aaron. We were anticipating the opportunity to backpack later in the summer and into the fall, and this new gear would do the trick!
We finished the trip is a warm, comfortable bed not feeling the slightest bit guilty for wussing out and fleeing from the rain. As if to solidify our decision, it continued to rain the entirety of the night and we woke up to a clear and beautiful Sunday morning. One final note - if you do have the good fortune to stay with Mountain Magnolia Inn, their breakfast is NOT to be missed.
As a subpar fisherman, I was concerned when Aaron suggested we purchase fly rods and try our luck in the cool stream waters of western NC. I was also excited to try something new. Fly fishing reminds me a lot of eating an artichoke. There is a lot of preparation that occurs and then there's a lot of effort that goes into actually enjoying the thing.
Our trip to Stone Mountain's famed trout waters was at the end of June, which is not exactly prime fly fishing season. From all I've read online, it seems fall and spring are the more popular times to fly fish. That did not stop us, however, from drowning a number of flies. Did I mention that I had broken my arm two days prior?
Stone Mountain Park is huge relative to some of its other state park cousins. Not only are there miles of trout waters and streams, but you can spend days on the hiking trails that traverse all sections of the park, including the large and treacherous Stone Mountain peak. In fact, a month prior to our visit, a UNC Charlotte student lost his life while hiking the peak trail. Each year Stone Mountain seems to be the site of some sort of falling accident. We stayed away from those trails and stuck mainly to the waterfall trails.
The camping at Stone Mountain park leaves something to be desired. Once we paid we drove through the RV lot to see that the tent spots were basically on a giant clear cut parking lot with no trees. Less than ideal for a June camping trip in NC! Each tent pad has a base of tiny gravel, and each site can hold exactly 1 tent. The best waythat I can think to describe it is that it appears a German must have designed the grounds - they are clean and precise and minimalist. Bathrooms and showers were in good shape, but not as meticulously maintained as Carolina Beach or Black Mountain.
Though we had no success on the fishing front, we did see a lot of wildlife in the park. Wild turkeys, deer and hawks are common. I was startled one morning while I was drinking my coffee alone when a giant wild turkey flew across the campsite low and slow. The star gazing is impeccable out there because of the lack of tree cover, so a 3am potty break can easily turn into a half hour just staring up at the sky.
Featured here is Aaron's biggest catch of the day, and some of the crawfish we terrorized as well as a few photos of friends on one of the hiking trails.
The Hollar adventures this summer began early - in April - with a trip to Carolina Beach where we planned to spend our 1st wedding anniversary in the cool breezes of the Atlantic. Visions of camping on the beach, enjoying a gorgeous sunrise and staying up late howling at the moon were soon vexed however, by the fact that the state campground closes at 8, and our arrival was just 20 minutes too late to get our truck full of goodies through the main gate. No worries, we said to ourselves, and ventured up the road to the Karolina Beach Kampground. Note here, any campground that changes out a "c" for a "K" should be regarded with reticence. This was not the relaxing beachy campground of our dreams, but rather a part abandoned trailer lot/part active trailer park that could terrify even the bravest of souls. As we wandered towards our camping spot which had been overpromised as "the best spot on the whole lot!" we noticed yellow crime scene tape encircling nearby trees. An online review warned of the dangers of the bathroom and the ruffians that wander shirtless, smoking, after dark. We made a brief dinner before a full blown thunderstorm drove us inside the tent and straight through a bottle of vodka. We packed up and headed out for the State Campground before light even broke on the horizon the next morning. That place was terrifying. It's hard to get romantic when you're wondering if you'll survive the night, or whether a crystal meth tweeker is going to explode the trailer less than 20 yards from your tent.
The state campground was lovely, thank god, and we enjoyed a Saturday full of cooking fried seafood delicacies and smoking a whole pork butt. You can pick up fresh shrimp and oysters at any of the road side spots on your ride in. We began with bacon and eggs for breakfast, panko breaded fried shrimp for lunch, then had a few steamed oysters and some pork for dinner. It was not a "light" eating day, but hell it was our anniversary.
The state campground at Carolina Beach is not on the beach, which is important to note for those dreaming as I was of a breezy, sandy locale. Instead, you are hidden in the woods among pine trees and there is plenty of shade. The campground is impeccably maintained.
