Alligators and bobcats and bears--Oh My!

October 26th

This was only one of many. An old estate abandoned an in disrepair

North Carolina, here we come. We started riding through light rain to the town center of Suffolk where to eat lunch. Multiple townspeople were impressed with our bikes and our sojourn. One such person approached us as we where leaving the restaurant, and shared his experience as a younger man traveling through hostels across America. Suddenly his eyes lit up as he kept talking.

"You've inspired me," said the middle-aged man. "To go quit my job and ride my bike around the country!"

Have we become the pied pipers of cycling?

Rain gave way to sunshine as we entered the great state of North Carolina, but the moisture didn't want to leave. It was hot and humid as we crossed over creeks that feed into the Great Dismal Swamp. For the first time in a long time, we were actually sweating. Oddly enough, the swamp is actually quite majestic in its own unique way, and it made for good scenery as we reached our destination at Merchant's Millpond State Park.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was a relatively short ride from Suffolk to the state park, so we had ample time to set up our tent and tour some of the museum and grounds. The millpond is the result of damning a nearby creek to run a grist mill, and the pond basically turned a natural landscape that was accustomed to constant seasonal flooding into what is basically an extension of the Great Dismal Swamp.

We heard owls hooting and bobcats howling after nightfall.

The area is teaming with wildlife. Wild bobcats and bears roam the woods at night, and Alligators (yep, Alligators) sun themselves on top of downed tree trunks in the swamp. That's in addition to the many species of frog, spider, and snake.

Just a day's riding on a bike, but we're a long way from cotton fields!

The great majesty of Merchan't MillPond at sunset.

We took some spectacular photos of the swamp at sundown. The sun's light painted the sky and clouds and left its reflection over the water. The turning leaves on the trees were the perfect accent to nature's masterpiece.

Once it was time to sleep though, we felt a little less inspired.

"I'm nervous," said Nicole.

"Oh, there's nothing to worry about. Obviously these animals don't bother people."

"What was that?" She asked as we heard a howling throughout the woods. "Was that a bobcat?"

"It sounded exactly like one," I said, smiling.

"I'm scared," Nicole reiterated. "But I'll get over it."

I put my arm over her reassuringly as she fell asleep. I on other hand was not so lucky. Over the course of a few minutes, my inner paranoia set off with fears, mostly baseless. So what if our peanut butter is sealed, can't the bears still smell it anyway? What if some animal sees us anyway, won't it attack, leaving us that incredibly rare statistic of wild animals actually unprovokingly attacking people? And so on.

We had the rainfly up because there was a chance of rain, even though it was clear skies above. I kept it up like a cowardly ostrich sticks his head in the sand. Hey, if they can't see me! Eventually I had to take the rainfly off because I was basically dehydrating myself and I needed the ventilation. It was a little cooler and I could relax a little bit--until the wind picked up. Like clockwork, I would settle myself down, squash the ridiculous fears in my mind and close my ears. Then the wind would pick up and rattle the leaves, sounding just like impending rainfall.

Eventually I did go to sleep. At about 4:30 in the morning it rained--for about five seconds. Nicole and I put the rainfly up, but this time there wasn't much time between me falling asleep and my head hitting the pillow.