I woke up on the Saturday before Memorial Day with the knowledge that I wanted to do something different that morning. I woke up like any Saturday in the Outer Banks to watch the sunrise, but after going back to "sleep" - a dream-like state in which I watch Golden Girls in bed with a view of the ocean - I ran through a list of possibilities in my head: beach run (too windy and I can never catch my breath), watch more GG (I've seen every episode thousands of times and it seemed too beautiful outside to stay in bed longer), morning walk to the Whalehead (don't I do that every time?) ...
I convinced M to get moving and decided on a bike ride. I had finally affixed my monogrammed PB bike basket to the beach cruiser, and I had ulterior motives. I slipped my phone and $30 cash into the basket and away we went! We made it over to the lighthouse, only to realize it had just opened for the day. It was time to cross this off my bucket list!
We ran into (not literally, thank goodness, for the sake of our American allies) 4 English tourists locking their bikes up, and I remember thinking how funny it was that they locked their bikes at the beach. You're at the beach ... Don't you just leave your bike lying around? Locking their bikes together took longer than expected, so M and I were able to beat them to the path leading to the lighthouse (in true American form, we had to be first).
There was a simple curved path that led directly to the lighthouse door, but there was a sign that said walk this way, pointing in the complete opposite direction. I remember thinking how easy it would be to just walk the wrong way, right up to the door of the lighthouse, but then I was confused as to where to pay. It was a true dilemma of conscience as I decided to follow the sign. I have the utmost respect for this lighthouse, and if its sign says to do one thing, I'm going to listen. Of course, the foreigners (oddly enough decked out in American flag critter shorts) followed us, and I got super nervous about whether or not I was setting a good example as an American. All of these difficult decisions, in mere seconds.
We followed the curved path, past a private residence (where I hope to retire in the light of the lighthouse), and immediately came face to face with the lighthouse door. I breathed a sigh of relief, as I had not led these English chaps astray. America: 1.
The path to the lighthouse door was lined down the center with oyster shells, which seemed so perfect for the setting. We walked up the stone steps into the doorway and were greeted by the nicest volunteer. The cash I had sneaked into my bike basket earlier came in handy, and we signed a waver by putting our signature down on a list. I felt like I had just joined a club of lighthouse climbers. Yes, my name is finally on that list!
Inside is almost exactly what you would expect to find on the inside of a lighthouse - iron railings spiraling upward, a black and white checked marble floor, an odd (and empty) circular hole-turned wishing well in the middle. Each landing (at the top of each curve) was dotted with historical snippets and photos.
The spiral slowly started to diminish inside, and, just like the exterior would suggest, the walls became closer and closer. Finally we reached one of the upper levels, where the Carolina breeze finally touched our faces. It was such a relief after climbing and climbing and starting to realize that it was getting hotter and hotter inside.
In a serious rush of cool air (so much so that my hat almost flew right off my head), we reached the door to the upper deck and stepped out to overlook the neighborhood we know and love from a completely different vantage point. Being able to see the ocean and sound in one view is nothing short of amazing, and you truly realize how small this little cluster of islands truly is. What a view - the only way to describe it.
There was that moment up there, however, when I realized I didn't know where the light was in relation to where I was standing. A quick glance upward revealed the huge beacon that can be seen for 18 nautical miles (and through the transom in our bedroom window every night). It shines on for 3 seconds, off for 17, and is one of the most comforting features of having a window within its light's reach.
What goes up must come back down. The descent was, of course, much easier. Secret number one to climbing the lighthouse: get there exactly when it opens because as the stairs get skinnier, it takes longer and longer to find a break in the climbers to get back down.
A few quick shots as we were leaving, and I was officially a lighthouse climber! It was an experience I will never forget, and I'm so happy I got to do it with M. If you'd call it a "marriage date", it was one of the best we've ever had, followed by the quick bike ride home and a day at the beach.
You can find more information on my beloved lighthouse by clicking
here. I'm seriously considering paying $50 versus the usual $10 and getting unlimited climbs, which makes it sound like some ride at a theme park. It's much better than a ride!
Yours truly, the lighthouse climber,
C
