Afternoon Drive to Goose Creek Island

We live in a watery part of the world, but our farm is not the wettest part of the county, thankfully. Parts of Pamlico County are just plain swampy. Today I felt like an afternoon car ride -- you know, just 'put the pedal to the metal" and take off down the road. We drove about 30 minutes to Goose Creek Island, i.e., the tip end of our county that is by far the wettest, floodiest, quietest, most-likely-to-have-a-derelict-trailer-park kinda place. I've wanted to go and had never been.

 If you want to know where this island is, click here. It's a Google Map, but I couldn't figure out how to do a screen shot and put it here. Goose Creek Island is the big island with Hobucken and Lowland on it. Hwy. 304 is the road our farm is on. If you look closely where 304 turns into 33, you will see a little bridge leading to Goose Creek Island. Do not be deceived! That is no small bridge; it's a mammoth, scary thing. Every time I drive UP and over it, I feel like I'm gonna fall off, far, far off and down into the ICW, the Intercoastal Waterway. Also known in these parts as "The Ditch."

 Above is the view from atop the bridge out to the Sound. Below is the view on the other side.

 On the far side of the bridge is this house, which I could not resist. I love falling-down houses.

 I rolled down the window to take that photo and heard the metallic rattling of the loose roof panels. That house does not have long for this world! Here's the other side:

 The many windows with their rippling, shredded curtains, and the angry flapping of the roof over the skeletal remains of the ceiling timbers. Doesn't it need a story?
Alright, I just discovered that Julia and Peter have been IN that house. Apparently they inherited my falling-down-houses gene. Julia says in that upstairs back bedroom someone painted on the wall, "Frankenstein was created here in 18--." Date unsure.
Nearby is the Hobucken Marina, a store that's been advertising for a full-time cashier for the longest time.

 It may not look like much, but it's about the only gig in town. Plus is has new gas tanks at its marina for boaters. Here's the marina:

 The docks are falling apart. The trailers are tired and run-down. Basically, it's a throw-back to a quiet riverside camp from years gone by. I think it's kinda beautiful.

 One sandy, silent lane.

 We spotted a pull-out place for big boats, not a lift, but tracks! Old railroad tracks, thoroughly rusted.

 Beau investigated.

 In Hobucken, the paved road suddenly transitions into gravel. At that point, we found the Goose Creek Country Club. I'm not kidding!

 This part of the county is gorgeous, unusual, open and wild.

 Somebody tied this old boat up by a little bridge.

 It came down this drainage canal to its dead end.

 Many of these canals and wide ditches snake around the low land on the edge of the county. All the roads have deep, full ditches on each side. The water table is quite high.

I almost took a picture of the one cemetery we saw along the road, but it was too disturbing to see that the graves, six feet under, would obviously be well below the water level in the ditch along the road.
A shot across miles of grassland to the Pamlico Sound:

 A blue heron stood in the ditch. I snatched two photos as he lifted off --

 -- and flew away.

One more dilapidated house. Don't you like the anchor above the porch? I saw so many photo-worthy objects on our drive, but I was behind the wheel, and I'm hesitant to stop in the middle of the road to take photos. In Lowland, however, there's hardly enough traffic to worry about it.

Probably only a handful of you like places like this, but I do find them fascinating.