The NORTH Carolina crusher. Strictly speaking, my religion makes no room for reincarnation, but were I to be brought back, I'd hope to be a bird. I would also hope to be a lot smarter than your average bird and know better than to fly across the highway at windshield height while cars are passing by. Seriously, not long after entering North Carolina, I struck a small bird. And then I hit another one!
And I was beginning to really like North Carolina. Not long after leaving Virgina, I pulled a big U-turn on the highway because I blew right by Gravedigger. Gravedigger! Three of them, spanning decades, parked by the side of the road.
I also passed through Dismal Swamp--how could I not?--which is actually quite nice and tonight I'm staying in a place called Kill Devil Hills. Seriously. Look it up. And is it wrong that the best movie I've seen in a while is the one about the battle of Hampton Rhodes playing in the Mariner's Museum in Newport News?
Swamps were called "dismals" back in the day because they were thought to be terribly depressing places.
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