I’ve been the willing victim of wanderlust for as long as I can remember. I’ve written about this countless times, but I never tire of explaining that for me driving and exploring someplace I’ve never been is therapy. It keeps me level. It keeps me sane, and most importantly, it refills my creative bucket. If I ever feel stuck or unmotivated to write or twitchy or like I’ve lost myself, the first thing I want to do is either head to the woods, or jump in my car and just drive. I throw on my ball cap, put my windows down for the feel and smell of it, and crank my favorite music playlist so I can sing at the top of my lungs until I can’t talk anymore.
I’ve been itching to get away for a few weeks, and since I finished the current draft of Forge and Vine (my current WIP) on Thursday night, I decided I could afford to take some recharging time. So, I threw my tennis shoes and a change of clothes in my backpack to take to work, still not having a clue where I was going to go. But, I knew I needed to get lost for a while. Go somewhere new. By the end of the work day, I figured it out. East! Toward the wild and lovely sea. I hadn’t seen the Atlantic Ocean in nearly ten years, which was far too long in my opinion.
I left straight from work, drove two and a half hours, spent the night at a somewhat questionable hotel on the road, and then headed to my destination on Saturday morning. Hunting Island State Park near Beaufort, South Carolina. A perfect combo of my two go to activities, a beautiful walk in nature and a long drive (about six and a half hours from home).
One thing I’ve learned over the years of taking trips like this is that whenever one is spontaneous, the universe often delights in messing with us. As a result, in my rushed research, I had neglected to note the name of the island on which the state park was located or the actual address. I just typed in the name and hit go on the GPS. Around two and a half hours into the drive, I started seeing billboards for Myrtle Beach attractions. I thought it was a little weird but didn’t think much of it because it is a big touristy spot.
An hour later, I got to the park. It was closed because it was full to capacity, so that forced me to rethink my day. That was when I realized something was amok, but I didn’t actually figure out my error until I pulled up my recent trips. Turns out, I made a big oopsy. Evidently, I didn’t pay as close of attention as I should and sent myself to Huntington Beach State Park near Myrtle Beach. I was actually about three hours north of where I meant to be. So, I grabbed a soda for the caffeine, a bottle of water because, you know, hydration, and got back on the road. I can’t be mad at it though. I got an extra-long drive, and there was beautiful scenery along the way.
I got to my hotel in Beaufort around check in time, so I did that first. After checking in using a remote worker kiosk, which was an experience in and of itself, I went up to my room, and was delighted to discover I had a gorgeous view of the marsh from my sliding glass door. I scrapped the idea of the state park that day, deciding to go the next morning. Mostly because it was getting hot, and I was starving because I hadn’t stopped for lunch. I admired the view for a few minutes and then set out to find food.
Fishcamp on 11th Street is right on the water, and right next door, I ran across Shellring Ale Works by accident. They actually share a parking lot. So, being an avid brewery goer, I grabbed a local brew before dinner. I hung out on their picnic tables, overlooking the water, protected by the shade of huge, old trees covered in spanish moss. It was a little too warm out for me, but with the breeze blowing off the water, it was a perfect setting to enjoy my pint. While sitting there, I kept finding caterpillars on me presumably falling from the tree I was sitting under. Some of them were huge! I’m curious what kind of moths or butterflies they were.
After my pint, I went over to the restaurant and was able to secure a spot at the patio bar. My trick for when it’s just me out for dinner because it usually means no wait for a table! I camped (see what I did there?) for the next few hours. I ate fresh local flounder and listened to live music. I chatted with locals about how the restaurant used to be called Dockside. Turns out it is a popular Saturday afternoon hang out spot, but the locals usually clear out before dinner to avoid the “damn tourists… Not you of course! You’re not like most of ‘em. You could almost pass for a local yourself if it weren’t for all the pictures.” A comment one of them made to me. I had to laugh. I was taking a lot of pictures. I ended up stayed until the sun went down, entertained by the music and talking to probably a dozen different people, and then retreated back to my hotel room to recuperate from the long day of driving.
The next morning, I woke up to the most beautiful early morning view of the marshland behind my hotel. The picture I took came out with a wash of lavender. The light wasn’t nearly that purple in real life. I keep thinking I need to learn how to work the filters on my cell phone camera, but I’ve never managed to take the time to sit down and play with it. Maybe one day.
I checked out, then went into historic downtown Beaufort. It was established in 1711 according to the Tri-centennial plaque I found at the waterfront park I was walking through. After ambling around for a bit, I stopped in for breakfast at Blackstone’s Café. Imagine my surprise when at 8 am one of the waitresses rang a ship bell and invited everyone to stand and say the pledge of allegiance. Per my waitress, they do it every morning at around 8 am. The original owner, Roger, had started doing it when he opened Blackstone’s in 1991, and they have just always kept up the tradition.
Fortified by biscuits and gravy and coffee, I finally made it out to the state park. It was a little rainy and humid enough to be sticky. I was not prepared for the beach in my blue jeans and sneakers, a hazard of spontaneity. I was also not expecting to be swarmed by mosquitos and no-see-ums. Needless to say, I didn’t stay out there very long. But it was a great view. I wandered the beach a bit, got some gorgeous pictures, a couple seashells, and broke my ten year fast of visiting the Atlantic.
I drove the six hours home with no big surprises, but I am a little hoarse this morning from too much singing in the car. It was a good drive.
Little surprises you run across, like the view from my hotel and the pledge of allegiance tradition at Blackstone’s, are part of what makes travel so fun for me. You never know what’s going to happen and as long as you can be pretty laid back about things, it just makes the adventure more interesting. Like the oops with the state parks? I could have gotten all bent out of shape about it. I could have ranted at myself for the wasted time and called myself stupid for not paying closer attention. And even five years ago, I might have done just that. Instead I laughed, changed my plan, and got back on the road.
We all have friends and family and colleagues that know us, and therefore, how we are supposed to act. The part we are supposed to play. And we tend to stick to our parts to keep the status quo. Hopefully, for most of us, that part is very close to who we actually are inside. But, I fear that for most of us, at least some of the time, who we really are gets lost trying to maintain those relationships. It isn’t something that happens on purpose. It isn’t malicious and it isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it is something I think we all need to step back and notice.
It’s fascinating how much you find out about yourself when you are away from home. Particularly when you are on your own. Out there, you are not bound by the thousand little autopilot habits and routines that make up most of our days. I have found that I feel the most comfortable in my own skin when I’m away. I feel like I’m being my most authentic self when there are no thoughts as to who I should be. I don’t edit. I don’t censure. I laugh too loud. I am brave. I am joyous even in moments that objectively I shouldn’t be.
We, all of us, need to find the place or activity that can let us just be without any tethers. Without any expectations, even those we put on ourselves. For me it is going someplace I’ve never been before. It’s experiencing something I’ve never done. It is driving down the road and letting the wind skim across my skin. It’s getting lost for a while, which allows me to find myself again. And I feel like every time I go, I find out more about who I am and carry that back with me, so I can hang on to me even when I'm at home.
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