A deep dip of the lens to WRAL's Richard Adkins, who last week reminded me just how boss the view is atop Jockey's Ridge at dusk. Was it. My family's scamper up the East Coast's tallest sand dune was the perfect way to top off a long weekend on the Outer Banks. The visit was long overdue. Fact is, the last time I stayed in Dare County without a hurricane, my wife couldn't get in the hot tub 'cause she was pregnant with our first child. That child is now learning to drive and it was with special pleasure that I let her test out her new skills on famed Highway 12 - the road to Hatteras. Once there, we trekked to the top of a certain striped beacon, before scrambling down to do all sorts of touristy things. An early morning raid on the Wright Brothers Memorial, a lunchtime stroll through the North Carolina Aquarium, Dinner in Duck -- we crammed a lot into just a few days.
Still, for my lack of money the highlight came on the very last night, when we all ascended Jockey's Ridge and attempted to fly one high-dollar kite. Along the way, we encountered more tranquil Yankees than can be found in a New Jersey Hookah Lounge. See, we locals usually frequent different beaches, leaving the Outer Banks to a flood of Northerners with bulging wallets and clipped accents. There on the Ridge, a rather rude lady from Massa-CHOO-setts awoke from her seafood coma long enough to guffaw at my use of the word "Y'all". I let her laugh, before gently reminding her that, considering our current coordinates, SHE was the one talkin' funny."Y'all come back now, ya hear?"
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