Taking the sandy Sandy road home

Hovering in Norfolk for a night, we're sitting in a coffee shop near my temporary home in Ghent. We'd decided to leave this evening at low tide, which was at 5:06PM. The road home is still washed out but they allow 4x4 access intermittently. The alternative is a 2-2.5 hour ferry ride, which is in addition to the regular drive to Norfolk, more than doubling the usual travel time.

The weather's been bad. Wind and rain. The road keeps getting overwash. All day today the road was closed, but opened just a few minutes before 5:00, and we took off, following the lead car through the sand road, next to the road which was buckled by Sandy a few weeks ago.

Justin said, "It's always an adventure with me!"

I could have passed on this sort of adventure, but what do you do once you're in the situation? You go along for the ride.

Right now I have nowhere else to be. No man's land between jobs, licenses, lives. Trying to start something new. Trying to find the path. I'm trying to live day by day, and not stress excessively about what the future holds.

So we navigated the sand road, arriving safely at the end. We'd caught end of the train of cars following the lead vehicle by less than a minute. Our Trailblazer was the caboose.

Driving through the wreckage of the hurricane was rather sobering. Sand piles, garbage, ocean water in the road. I tried to make a video but dusk acted as a wall of its own, dimming out the images. We gawked. But made it through.

Stopping in Kitty Hawk, we sprayed off the truck, pulling sand out of the wheel wells with our fingers, leaving black fingers.

In the morning we head to Ohio to visit my brother before continuing on to Iowa where we'll have the first Thanksgiving with our whole family since 2000. It's Justin's first meeting of my family, and his introduction to the Midwest.

Hoping the road leads us home safely.

Kinda bad dusk pictures of sandy Sandy road:
(well pretty bad dusk pictures) 


Garbage on the side of the road waiting to be collected by the state of NC. 

Just like North Dakota after a blizzard only with snow instead.

This house is leaning and missing its stairs.

Those last 2 houses are leaning and probably condemned, as well you can see the road or lack thereof in the foreground.

The usual road.

Watching Hurricane Sandy

Virginia Beach is opening shelters starting tomorrow morning. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it means something.

Locals are nonchalant, going about their normal activities, stocking up on water. Justin is at home on Buxton, waiting it out. For once it seems that Hatteras Island is the safe haven. Apparently normally Virginia Beach is evacuated north, but not this time.

Justin said everyone there is acting like it's another day. Which is good and fine especially if you are well versed in ocean weather. For someone like me, it's a different story. I researched the city, trying to determine if I was in a flood zone. I downloaded evacuation routes and figured where I would go if we had to leave.

I put my car in the Westin's parking garage and plan to leave it there to ride out the storm. I had some very old friends who I met in India offer to have me stay with them and I'm taking them up on it- they're stopping by later tonight for me on their way home. It may be overcautious but I always tell my patients piece of mind is serious- don't apologize for needing it. So I am not going to apologize either. Maybe it will be nothing. But with my supreme ignorance in the situation and of the east coast, I'd rather stay with friends and worry less.

Most storms I've been told are nothing. But then there's that rare Katrina or Irene, or Grace, acts of devastation. As long as the hurricane is still swirling, we don't know what will happen. That's the part that's actually scary. And this storm is moving really slow, which causes more problems.

The extreme east coast weather makes me so homesick for the benign northwest, where drizzles reigned and 10mph gusts were considered wind.

I'll keep you posted. I plan to hang out in Chesapeake, VA for the next two days. It's higher ground than here and comes with great company, my surrogate parents. ;)

(21:33 Justin just wrote and said the ocean was over the road.)

Outer Banks of North Carolina

Orville and Wilber were from Dayton OH originally, but moved to Kitty Hawk for its ideal weather conditions to conduct experiments in flight.

A model of their plane in the visitor's center. I'm happy to be exploring the US again, being reminded of the greatness of American dreamers...

Me and Orville.

The first flights took off from here, and those two buildings were where the brothers resided during their stay. 

Sunset on the Dunes of North Carolina. Otherworldly.

On the way down the Outer Banks, which is really a strip of sand off the continental US, a few lighthouses poke up into the clouds beckoning wanderers to break for a few.

The little guy is no longer of this world but I saw beauty. 

Trees are wispy, wind-swept structures.

Several long bridges connect the sandbar land masses which make up the Outer Banks.

Blowing snow can confuse a midwesterner into thinking it is the real white stuff. But this can sand the paint off your car if you are not lucky. I was lucky. 

Looking up. Life is good.