Vacations on the Outer Banks

I remember going on vacations as a boy with my older sister and younger brother.  Most of the time, we would spend two weeks on the Outer Banks of North Carolina at Kitty Hawk, just south of where highway 158 dead ends at the ocean highway.

There are two highways that connect the mainland with the Outer Banks, 158 is the northern road and 64 at Manteo is the southern road.

My parents would rent a pink cottage that was a quarter mile west of the beach road.  At the time we were there, it was the only cottage in the area, since the Outer Banks were not bothered by many tourists at that time.  There was a small lake to the south of the cottage that had an island in the center.  A rowboat was moored at the edge of the lake nearest to the cottage that we sometimes used to get out to the island.

In the mornings, we would pack what we needed to spend a day at the beach - everyone had to carry something - my dad carried the most but shared carrying a cooler with our mother.  We had to stop and rest a couple of times before we arrived.  We would have an umbrella, towels, toys, and something to eat and drink but no chairs.  We sat on blankets or on the sand itself.

Two weeks is a long time to spend at the beach and while our parents were very careful about the children spending too much time in the sun, but the second week, that is all we did and after two weeks, there was not much white skin left.

All of our meals were either eaten in the pink cottage or on the beach (usually lunch) and not once did we got out for dinner or breakfast at a restaurant.  We went out for groceries or to shop if it was raining or to see the production of THE LOST COLONY.  Once we experienced the outdoor drama we never went back.

The pink cottage had a kitchen, living room, two bathrooms and four small bedrooms of which we used three.  There was no heat, and no air conditioning units attached to the house, but each room had a portable fan.  I remember that some nights it was difficult to get to sleep even when there was a breeze.

After my parents sold their houses on the Outer Banks; on was on the beach front and purchased from the previous owner; the other was built by my parents right across the street, we never as a family or sibling returned either collectively or by ourselves.