After more than a year of indoor living, I wanted to be in the woods, away from crowds, and within a comfortable driving distance of the Eastern Shore. When I found a number of camping options in the Croatan National Forest of North Carolina, it seemed to offer what I was looking for at an affordable price.

The first stop, Oyster Point, is a primitive campground one-mile in via a sandy road that offers pit toilets, potable water, a lengthy walking trail, and views of the Neuse River. It’s also just 25 minutes to the ocean and Fort Macon State Park in case a day trip was in order. Many of the comments were folks whining about the road condition making it impossible to take advantage of this location. How perfect for my first 5 nights back on the road!

After surviving the aggressive NC drivers on my bumper during the final of 6 hours, I arrived to the sandy road under construction but passable. A lovely woman, Tonia, greeted me and my site was large, mostly tree-surrounded, and even offered a bit of a river view. There was a mix of tents, camper vans & pop-ups, but it was obvious that this was a sleeping spot and folks were heading out to play. On my first full day, I went onto the trail to discover that only 1.5 miles (of the listed 21) were accessible (the result of Hurricane Florence in 2018), so the next day, I ventured down the sandy road on my hybrid bike to find the area road cycling was a mere 6-mile loop.

On my return, I hit a heavy sand patch, was stuck in a pedal, and got a leg bruise the size of my head. That was the fun part of the day as I now had a new giant RV neighbor running his generator (till 9:40 pm that night). There’s no electricity but you can run a generator from 6 am to 10 pm in a primitive national forest campground. With just 2 nights left, I bitched and moaned aloud, drove to bike at the beach, tour Fort Macon, then watched the RV weekenders come in to use this beautiful spot as a parking lot. With road repair in progress, but no money for the walking trail I’m told, this should be RV world forever. Off the list!

Next stop, just one hour south, is Cedar Point; also a Croatan National Forest campground on the White Oak River, and a mere 5 miles west of the ocean. This felt more like a state park and is obviously contracted out, has newly built facilities with electric sites, and I was one of 2 tents in my 5 nights there. This felt nothing like being in a forest, but it was a very quiet place weekdays with cordial people, a pretty walking trail, and a nearby bikable coastal area. My most fun day was along the bike path near Emerald Isle where I road with an East Coast Greenway advocate, chatted over a shrimp burger, and felt like life was sort of normal again.

The prior campers had left me plenty of wood, so I felt ambitious that evening. As I was breaking a giant tree limb into kindling (while wearing sleepwear), I slipped and fell into the branch slicing the palm of my hand and puncturing a few holes in my leg. After tearing off the leggings, I was worried. I’m talking deep cuts, blood oozing, and instant bruising; but thankfully it was extremities which are healing nicely. My mother always said that “bad things come in threes” so thank the good Lord, I accidentally factory reset my phone and erased all my data the next morning. Turn me over, I’m done.  

     It was definitely time to move on before Ocean City, MD opened in early March. Yet, as my good karma came through, I had my first VAX scheduled for transition day and then had to hang around for 30 more. So, it's been a month on the Virginia Eastern Shore in Franktown, just 90 miles south, and close enough to drive for the booster! 
     While I’ve been by this area on the way to somewhere, it was unfamiliar, but spring was coming and I knew that I could cycle from my front door. The Airbnb seemed interesting - a cottage on a horse farm - with human contact only on an “as needed” basis. Now though, my only regret with not being able to talk to everyone is a lack of local history and how it has remained so undeveloped. 
​     In the mid-19th century, Franktown was a point along the stagecoach route between Wilmington, Delaware and Eastville, Virginia. Today, it’s an unincorporated community in Northampton County, which has a population of just over 12,000. The former name of the County was Accomac Shire, and it’s one of the original eight shires of Virginia after the founding of the first settlement at Jamestown in 1607. The name was changed in 1642 to Northampton County by the English to eliminate "heathen" names in the New World, and eventually was split into two counties that exist today -- Accomack and Northampton.  

     Honestly, it’s been a wonderful stay and the perfect transition from cocooning in a box all winter to returning to my tent. Whether on two wheels or two feet, I’m surrounded by farmland, forests, marshland, and water views, while greeting horses, sheep, cows, and llamas (or are they alpacas?). My photos may give the impression of an affluent place, but Franktown has a mix of properties and people who never pass by without greeting you. 
​     So, March has been quite lovely here. I’ve spent time with two friends outdoors, read many books, worked very little, regrouped and repacked, been fully VAXed, and now after more than a year, I’ll be returning to tent life for 10 days in North Carolina. It’s time to cautiously travel again.