NYC -2- ATL

We awoke early today as planned and rolled away from the lobby at 7:30, right on schedule. A few miles down the boardwalk with morning joggers and then a quick and easy causeway over the canal. I saw a large building and signs for the Virginia Aquarium, but as we rolled past and I spied an outdoor exhibit, I demanded we stop. I’m so glad that I did because we got to share a quick visit with Hector and Rudder, two bicycle-curious harbor seals!

As we rode on, it became evident we were on some sort of 50 mile loop that all of the local cyclists in Virginia Beach get out and ride on nice Saturday mornings, and it sure was a nice one! We must have been going against the majority of the bike traffic, although a few people passed us going south as well. I waved and said good morning to almost everyone and rang my bell at the miniature pelotons. Everyone seemed elated to be out riding bikes.

As we pressed further south, it seemed we had left the locals behind on their loop, and only a few hardcore cyclists pedaled out this far. We had unceremoniously passed into North Carolina somewhere along a road too small for the line to be marked. When we realized as much, we stopped and took a photo by the water to commemorate the occasion. We were making good time and didn’t need to rush too much to make the ferry. We did want food, and as if by magic, the Knotts Island Market appeared before us.

We got a large sandwich, some drinks, and some deviled eggs to go. The sandwich fit perfectly under the top flap of my pannier for safe transport. The eggs never had a chance; they would be eaten before we left the parking lot, and they were very good.

A few miles more and we pulled to a line of cars waiting to board the Knotts Island - Currituck Ferry. We pulled up to the front where they had a restroom, and as I climbed back on the bike, they waved us onto the awaiting vessel. This was a much smaller ship than when we left New Jersey. I’d estimate only a dozen cars (and a half dozen motorcycles) made the crossing with us. We mostly talked to a guy who parked right by us who turned out to work for the N.C.I.S. and was spending his Saturday driving down to Kitty Hawk to a good lunch spot.

It was so warm in the sun on the ferry that I took the time to change to shorts and a short-sleeve jersey. I was a good boy and put on lots of sunscreen. When we arrived in Currituck, our prioritized search for a good picnic bench was immediately ended when a perfect spot was found awaiting us in a park near the terminal. We sat and ate the sandwich, which was excellent, and joked how even a lesser sub would have been pretty good under the circumstances.

We headed south on the highway that we would be on for the remainder of the day. It was a fairly busy, separated, two-lanes in each direction highway with a medium shoulder. It was my least favorite road to bike on yet, but there aren’t many alternatives for the route we are riding, so it would have to do. Not long after lunch, as I regretted not buying dessert in Knotts Island, signs for Morris Farm Market began to appear. I almost rode right past this place, knowing we still had a long way to go, but then I saw the sign for Frozen Peach Cider Floats, and my handlebars just kind of took me over there. Great market; Great dessert; 5 stars; Would eat again.

Back on the busy route south, I kept my eyes in my rear-view mirror, watching the traffic as it barreled by. Dad was unbothered, but I was distracted from enjoying the surroundings by the noisy highway. I had no idea I would see almost every vehicle that whizzed past us again in less than an hour. As we approached the end of the peninsula, a massive traffic jam had southbound traffic at a standstill. We continued along the shoulder, passing each and every car that had driven by.

This went on for miles. It felt sort of like the line for a huge music festival, but no one was excited to be there. So many people cried out in exacerbation when they saw us ramble past them. I heard some chatter from the road that there had been an accident on the causeway ahead and possibly a fire. There were sections where people all started to get out of their cars and socialize. There were other areas where they jumped back in to drive the twenty yards that had edged forward. Those seemed to lead to other areas where people just stayed in their cars looking pissed off because they had been tricked into getting out before and the line had moved and they wouldn’t make that mistake again!

Finally, we neared the causeway and the beginning of the jam. Police cruisers were blocking the southbound bridge, and some state troopers were directing all of the southbound traffic that had been stuck on the causeway back in the wrong direction, then looping them back south in the northbound lanes, which had been closed at the other end. The line of cars coming towards us on the causeway seemed to stretch beyond the horizon.

We rolled up to the intersection with the officers, and one of them motioned us over. He asked if we were trying to go south over the bridge, and when we said we were, he said, “I don’t think that’s going to be a possibility today guys.” He explained that after they cleared the southbound bridge of traffic, they’d be letting the jam we had just passed onto the wrong way of the northbound bridge too. He said the causeway was too long for us to make it across before they began to let the northbound traffic through again, and we would face oncoming traffic. I asked if they send a police cruiser with lights on at the end of the traffic to know it is clear before they let the northbound traffic go. He thought about it for a minute but said no, and I wasn’t going to argue. What the heck were we going to do now?

We had a reservation across the Currituck Sound in Kill Devil Hills. How the heck were we going to get there? I immediately started looking around in the traffic jam festival for people in pickup trucks. Especially empty beds… Ooh, there’s a big crew-cab, nothing in the back, only the one guy driving… bingo! “Howdy,” I said as I rolled up to his open window. Barely a head turn! A little wave of the hand to answer my hello. “Never mind,” I said as I continued back. But now as I looked over my shoulder, the line of cars leaving the southbound bridge was coming to its end and our jam began to start up their engines. The race was on.

One couple seemed approachable and even probable but then kind of clammed up when I asked if we might be able to get a ride. I moved on quickly knowing time was limited. Another pickup seemed good, but they had a cover over the truck bed. Then I saw him. My hero of the afternoon. I rolled over timidly and waved hello. He rolled down the window and I explained, “they’re about to let everyone over the bridge on the wrong side, but they won’t let us through on our bikes. Do you think you might be able to let us put them in your truck bed and help us get across the causeway?” I could see he had a young daughter in a child seat in the back. “I understand if you can’t, but my dad and I sure would be thankful if you could help us out.”

“Yeah, ok. I’ve been sitting here so long, what’s a few more minutes?” He pulled over and we loaded up the bikes and bags into the truck bed. I wasn’t sure about room in the cab, so I asked if I could sit up front and he said sure. Dad would sit up in the truck bed and keep an eye on the bikes. I am horrible with remembering names, but I am pretty sure our hero’s name was Patrick. I spoke mostly to his adorable three year old daughter who loves animals and was on her way to an aquarium before they got stuck in the traffic jam. I thanked our driver profusely and told him all about our travels. We saw a completely smashed and burned up ICE vehicle over on the southbound bridge as we passed the scene of the accident.

He let us off at the first gas station, which happened to be across the street from the beginning of a bike path into town. We passed through Kitty Hawk and rolled down the beachfront road into Kill Devil Hills around 5:30. We checked into a decent room, and I scouted a place for dinner. We walked about a mile down to Food Dudes Kitchen where we sat at the bar and had what Dad has proclaimed to be his favorite meal of the trip so far. We both had a beer and then split tuna tacos and a blackened mahi-mahi sandwich, and then their last piece of coconut creme pie. Everything was delicious!

On the walk home, we saw the sign for Holy Cow Creamery and having each had only half a piece of pie for dessert, decided to stop by. We met the owners who had just opened the business two days earlier and were eager and proud to tell us about their ice cream. I ended up with the Holy Cow and Dad got the Heath Coffee. We also met and chatted with the landlord of the business who had come to try the product. He was excited to hear of our journey, and from his interesting shirt, we found our breakfast plans for tomorrow.

Today was a great day. The universe really began to unfold in front of us. Timing was perfect. We got what we needed when we needed it. The weather was great. It sounds like it will stay great for days. The road was tough, but we made it. This is the good times.