I woke up at 5:30am this morning, sore but excited. Honestly, I wasn’t even thinking of a “mission” or a “purpose”. I was just excited that the weather was good, that I could smell salt air and I really was looking forward to eating fish tacos at the end of the run.
I only had half as much mileage planned for today as I had done on day 1, so this should be a piece of cake. Right?
On the Outer Banks, I can go North or South without get seriously wet, so I headed in the direction that Dean pointed (South), and set out with my head down and my hair blowing in the breeze.
Once again, I led off with what I thought was an easy pace out of the KOA Campground in Rodanthe was in the next town, Salvo, after a mile or so of running. I noticed foot bridges over waterways, little shoulders along most roads, and lots of dead birds, especially around bridges. I had a feeling this was going to be a theme the whole time I was moving along the Outer Banks, and today, through the “tri-villages” of Rodanthe, Salvo and Waves.
Rodanthe isn’t an official town, in that it isn’t an incorporated municipality. It has fewer than 270 residents year-round and depends on it’s income from seasonal tourism, and was originally part of the Chicamacomico settlement.
Salvo to the South, is only slightly smaller than Rodanthe. Originally named Clarksville, the town was renamed “Salvo” after the Civil War, when a barrage canon fire from a Union Navy ship led one of the sailors to mark “salvo” on a map, indicating the settlement area where they had attacked.
Waves is about half as big as Salvo, and I couldn’t tell you where one of these three villages ends and the other begins. The residents don’t seem to care. I supposed when you live out in the Atlantic Ocean, and your day-to-day life consists of dramatic life and death beauty, the only boundaries that are important are “water” and “no water”.
Comparatively, Avon is a metropolis, as it is almost as large as all three of the tri-villages combined, and I felt as if I had really reached the big city as I passed a Subway sandwich shop. Avon’s original name was Kinnakeet, Algonquin for “that which is mixed”, but was renamed in 1883 to give the town a little more European flavor. Nothing about the Algonquian peoples seemed to still be in existence, and other than a reference made on the welcome sign, this was just another Outer Banks village.
The day went fast and I finished my run in a little over 3 hours. I hopped in Dean’s car and headed back to the campsite to shower and raise my feet. Am I going too fast? It sure does give me time to reflect, eat and sleep, I guess…. I’ll have to analyze this later.
One event that I had been looking forward to for a couple of months was fish tacos at Atlantic Coast Cafe. They didn’t disappoint. I overindulged with little guilt, headed back to the RV and crashed, still excited about the upcoming day. My legs were tired but still felt fresh. How fast could I go? Could I finish the next 17 miles before 1:00pm? Should I?
Listen to your inner voice. It isn’t always right, but the fact that it has something to say is meaningful nonetheless. Keep Moving Forward.