We hit the usual launch and headed over to the Sand Piper on Bald Head. After a snack we walked, surprise! We walked towards the island's decommissioned lighthouse called "Old Baldy." Brian talked me into being a real tourist, taking off all my gear and walking up the narrow, slippery staircase to the top of Old Baldy for a great view of the island. The sign said it was 108 steps but we counted more like 126. Liars!
Brian practically ran up the darned thing. I took my time. Nearing the top I came to a ladder, a small square hole and the sounds of Brian and a group of ladies looking out the windows. I looked up at that hole and had deja vu from caving. After a moment I squeezed through that little hole and took in the view with Brian. I would have taken photos but the windows were dirty and they would not have come out well.
We wandered around the island for a bit, stopping in a stunning chapel that truly felt like a holy place. We also visited the island's post office and municipal building. The live oaks shading the trail reminded both of us of St Augustine. It felt a world away, like time had slowed to a crawl.
Bald Head Island is a magical place. Not just the water, I now know, the whole island is special.
We had dinner that night at the Frying Pan as dusk fell. I had that same throat catching feeling I have every time I know I am leaving Southport in the morning. It feels like nostalgia, melancholy, but sweeter.
Thursday morning I saddled up and headed home. My new baby on my car:
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