5:30 AM Dad knocks on my door and says “It’s 5:30” (which you already knew, but I didn’t, at the time) I mutter something incoherent and grab for the toothbrush in the bag by the bed.
6:15 AM Having swung by my brother’s house to pick him up, we stop at a covered gas station to rearrange the stuff in the bed of the truck without the “help” of the chilling, driving rain.
7:03 AM We complete the first three-sentence verbal exchange of the day, between the three of us. Subject matter? The I-40 bypass around Greensboro, and the relative merits of each route.
8:49 AM I decide to give up in the quest to keep from nodding off in the passenger seat, but realize that comfortable seating and three full-grown males in a Dodge Ram are mutually exclusive concepts.
11:39 AM I come to the crushing realization that Nags Head, NC (population 7,000 in a heavy day, plus some tourists) has far better cell phone reception than Asheville, NC (population 50,000 on the worst day this quarter-century, plus some tourists). I bitterly take it out on AT$T via a passive aggressive Tweet at 11:40.
11:51 AM A Mexican Pizza and two soft tacos are involved. No further details are available for the public, until next-of-kin and physicians can be notified.
12:53 PM After meeting up with my uncle and cousin, we drop our luggage off at the Breakwater Inn. I make the mistake of asking if there is a “fitness center” here. I’ll be walking on the beach to stay in shape.
2:33 PM I get up the guts (pun intended) to hurl the fish bait attached to my line as hard as I can into the surf. It immediately becomes apparent how poor of a decision that is, when the line snaps, sending the 4 ounce weight, rigging, and bait sailing well beyond the breakers.
2:40(ish) PM Some unsuspecting fish gets a fancy lip ring that is unfortunately no longer attached to my reel.
5:00 PM I inadvertently hum an Aaron Neville song out loud, and feel the need to toss my man card into the ocean.
6:20 PM Having packed up the slightly fewer than 1 fish we caught and dropped the gear off at the Breakwater, we find ourselves in “Pop’s Raw Bar” (where bikers and 4x4s are welcomed, according to the sign) enjoying some amazing seafood and second-hand smoke.
7:30 PM I sit down to the laptop back at the Breakwater to find that, to my surprise, “The Fisherman’s Quarters” next door has Wi-Fi. This post is the immediate result.
Here’s hoping we catch some fish tomorrow. Or that I get this Aaron Neville song out of my head. Either would be considered success.