I suppose the other bit of reasoning is that it makes more sense for me to write my solo (or mostly solo or at least self-motivated) travels down than it does for me to write about my church pilgrimage because this is the only way people will ever hear of them. Otherwise it's just a collection of photos in a folder on my computer for me to peruse and no one else. And I'm a sharing kinda guy.
So anyway, I can't rightfully say I've always had a passion for traveling, because I distinctly remember being more interested in my Gameboy than the scenery on many a family vacation during my childhood. I was seized by this wanderlust I guess late college, though for a long time it was just sort of a passive feeling - "I should really see the world. I mean, there sure is a lot of world. So I guess I should see some of it". Plus, I had no car for a long time, and no budget to go anywhere even if I did. But I explored the gosh dang heck out of Greenville, heading out on walks every warm Saturday or Sunday that I could. The scope of my world widened from one corner of the ECU campus to downtown, the parks, the Tar River, and beyond by the time I was done. I enjoyed finding new things. I enjoyed turning a corner and saying "huh! Who knew this was here?"
By the time I went to work post-college, Greenville was all but fully explored. I knew about the park on Elm. I knew about the hiking trails and park on 5th. I knew about the Greenway, and I knew what the Greenway used to look like back when it was just woods. Walking along a familiar trail one Sunday in August, I found myself suddenly bored with the place. I knew these paths. Why was I still walking them?
It was around 3:00 PM on a Sunday, and I knew I'd be back at the office the next morning, so I wanted to make use of this last bit of weekend I had, but I couldn't think of any place in Greenville I wanted to go. But then the obvious thought occurred: "I have a car! I can go anywhere!" So, having heard of but never seen "Little" Washington, and knowing it was only about a half hour away, I decided to give it a try.
About 3 minutes away from my destination, I felt a bit disheartened. The scenery was bleak and uninteresting as it is in most of the eastern NC farmlands. There were barns, farmhouses, and Dollar Generals, and not much else. Plus, I was feeling a little under the weather. I might not even get out of the car, I thought.
That all changed as I crossed the bridge and got my first full view of the town. I think I giggled a little. A huge swath of the Pamlico River was adorned on its shores by old-timey looking small-town buildings, as well as a huge dock area dotted with fishing boats and yachts of all kinds. It was a classic wharf area, like one straight out of a movie set in the 1920's. It was great.
I found a place to park and hurried down to the water's edge. It was beautiful. The day was still warm, but bearably so, and the scenery distracted me enough that I didn't care anyway. I walked along the wooden dock that lined the river's bank and divided it from the "protected wetlands", which were really just a shitload of lily pads floating in an area as wide as a two-lane road.
I went all the way to one edge, circled through an apartment complex whose signs were shouting at me to leave their private property at once, and doubled back along the same dock to where I started. I then repeated the process for the other direction and returned to the middle again. It had been about 40 minutes at that point, and though it wasn't terribly long to stay in a place, I thought, with my sickness looming and the heat beginning to get to me, that I would return to my car and depart for Greenville once more.
In the months that followed, this little Sunday afternoon drop-in to a town 30 minutes away would be eclipsed tenfold, but as they like to say, each journey begins with a single step.
No comments:
Post a Comment