August 14th, 2007
The trip to Bogue Sound was a truly memorable trip in several ways. First of all was the heat – hot, hot, hot might fit as a description, but so would oppressive.
The second was traffic – after the first few very pretty and very quiet miles, ending with a really high bridge to climb – we had about 8 miles of really narrow shoulders and heavy traffic, with very limited sight lines. It reminded us of the Ozarks last year, without the really steep hills, but with a lot more traffic. When we discovered that we were going to be on that road for quite awhile, we took some time to review our options. The traffic on that road was so scary that we opted for taking the bigger roads with faster traffic, but wider shoulders and better sight lines.
What was supposed to be a simple, pretty, easy ride turned into an endurance marathon. Camp Lejeune, the huge military base here, has closed their South Gate to visitors because of Homeland Security issues. That meant that, instead of a nice, quiet tree-lined road, we had to add 17 miles of heavily traveled roadway to go completely around the base. At about 8 miles per hour, that added well over 2 hours of straight cycling time to our day.
Third was the inescapable presence of the military. There were constant convoys of military vehicles, men in uniforms, and stores, car lots, insurance companies, even gas stations, all clearly catering to the military presence. As we rode, we were passed by convoy after convoy of soldiers being transported. To break up the monotony, we began waving to the soldiers, and counting how many waves we got back (quite a few, along with lots of smiles – we even got a “You go, girls!”).
We began hearing gunfire off to our right shortly after getting on to the main highway – we were skirting the base nearly the entire day. That kept up for awhile, but was off in the distance, and sounded like rifle shots, coming steadily. The road we were on is an interstate, and while it wasn’t like I-95, or I-10, it was still truly an interstate, with 2-3 lanes going in each direction, and very fast traffic. Since we were skirting the base, there were absolutely no businesses on the right side of the road for many, many miles, which meant that when we did come to a possible resting place, we had to cross 4-6 lanes of freeway traffic, while we were on bicycles, hauling trailers (think “moving slowly”).
We finally needed a break. Having no other options in sight, we opted for taking a rest break right on the freeway shoulder, at the top of an overpass. Then machine gun fire started in, very nearby, almost without a break. So there we were at our first break of the day, perched on a guardrail on an overpass on a freeway, in the hot direct sun, listening to machine gun fire and watching military jets, being passed by military convoys full of soldiers, while eating our trail mix. We know you’re just insanely jealous!
Shortly afterward we had to climb a hill, and Chelsea lost her chain while shifting. Stopping to fix it, she spotted shell cartridges right there on the roadway – four or five of them right where she was standing. Wanting to show me later what she had found, she popped one into her handlebar bag. We found out later it was live ammunition! Now there’s a mind-boggling thought – both live and spent ammunition right there on the shoulder of a major freeway. Hmmm…the question is, how did it get there? Were they stray shots? How safe do I feel riding on that freeway? Or, how lucky do I feel today?
The town of Lejeune itself was just one long strip mall and series of stores. Our nice wide shoulder disappeared, and we had to merge and share a lane with the cars – and there were lots of them. It was distinctly unpleasant riding, especially since it was getting hotter and hotter. We did have one nice discovery – when we stopped for another rest break near some road construction, we discovered that there’s a lengthy bike path going in, and we were near a bridge that was being constructed over the road we were cycling – a bridge exclusively for cyclists! We think it’s a part of the East Coast Greenway Alliance and the Rails to Trails projects. We were sorry we didn’t get to ride it – it opens later this year or early next year, but we did manage to ride on it unofficially for about a mile or so.
One really notable feature of our day was seeing all the banners hanging from fences along the way – personal messages to the soldiers in Iraq from their families and loved ones, messages like “John J. We Love You. Come Home Safely”. They were usually addressed by their military rank, and then contained some sort of heartfelt message, wishing the soldiers luck, asking that they be kept safe, and awaiting their return. These were visible for many miles, and became increasingly frequent near the gates to Camp Lejeune, where most of them were messages welcoming the returning soldiers home. Along the walls of the housing subdivisions across from the main entrance to Camp Lejeune, the posters were almost completely covering all wall and fence space.
Meanwhile, the air was getting even hotter, if that’s possible. We hadn’t had any shade all day, except for our second 15-minute break, and the sun and heat were really getting to us. Neither of our cycling computers were working, so we had no idea how far we had gone or how many miles we had left. Chelsea was really beginning to droop, and we had no idea how much farther we could make it without a break. We didn’t even know where we were, as we couldn’t tell from any landmarks.
Near Hubert NC, spotting nothing in sight but a fire station, down a road that looked to have the only services, but none in sight, we decided to stop at the fire station. What a great decision it was! We met James and Robert, the two on-duty volunteer firemen. We asked directions to Swansboro, hoping to find out that it was just a few miles away, but no luck. It looked to be at least an hour’s ride in sweltering heat. Taking mercy on us, James and Robert offered us ice cold Gatorade and bottled water, and told us to rest as long as we wanted to. It was a wonderful place to rest and recover from the heat, with all that air conditioning, and we even had a clean quiet bathroom. When it was finally time to leave, they loaded us up with cold bottled water so we could fill our Camelbaks, and off we went. James and Robert get our Heroes of the Day for sure!
What seemed like an eternity later, we finally made it to Swansboro, and after making a phone call to find a place to stay, while hiding under the shade of a pitiful little tree in the Burger King parking lot, we pooled our dwindling cash and went to get a burger. While deciding how much we could get for $4 for both of us, a nicely dressed guy walked up to us and told us he had seen us on the road today. He wanted to know all about us, and asked if we had sponsors. We told him the basics, and told him that of course we are always looking for help. After wishing us luck and safe journeys, he smiled and walked away. A few minutes later we realized he was obviously the owner!
We kept going in the heat, knowing that a campground just had to be close. Still not quite sure where we were, we stopped in a parking lot and asked two guys in a Tesoro Construction pick-up truck for directions. They were really friendly and gave us great direction and encouragement and then offered us two more bottles of ice-cold water. It’s the small gestures like that that make all the difference!
We just kept struggling on, thinking that in only a half hour that we’d be at the campground (which we’d been thinking for about 4 hours by that time). We were getting hotter and hotter and hotter, and more and more and more tired, and slower and slower and slower. We spotted a bike shop along the way – we thought we might be in Cape Carteret by that time – and we took a chance on stopping in to say and get out of the heat, and ask where the campground was. We met Dave at Bikes R In in Cape Carteret. What a delight he was! Not only did he let us call the campground from his phone, but he found the number for us (they were leaving the office and wouldn’t reopen for several days). Before we left, he made sure we had some very cold bottled water to take with us, and we shared some seriously great laughter – he had a great sense of humor, and appreciated our black humor about our day.
After at least 2 more half-panicky stops asking for directions, and another 45 minutes of riding, we finally straggled into Goose Creek Campground, completely tired out and totally whupped, having completed our longest riding day to date, and having ridden the most miles in any day.