The Crystal Coast, Salt water on my feet

Living where it is nice

All of my adult life I have have lived on a hill, mountain, or a slope except for a brief period when we lived in Columbia, MD.

Perhaps it has something to do with the still vivid childhood memory of the time when were had to excavate the Outer Banks and drive through water that at times was up to the axles of our car.

I'm certainly not afraid of water.  In fact I absolutely love it. In past winters I  have  often taken to swimming laps for exercise sometimes getting up to a couple of miles. 

For years I enjoyed kayaks first on Carvin's Cove near Roanoke and recently on the White Oak River near Cape Carteret.

There's nothing I can think of that I enjoy more than fishing off the beaches around Morehead, North Carolina or standing in the surf fishing on Cape Hatteras.

I do respect water, for I have seen first hand the power of water. I can remember the small Yadkin River flooding when I was a child. This spring I once again witnessed some of the annual flooding that is so common here in Roanoke.  I wrote a post, "Spring Flooding," about it.  It was by no means the worst flooding we've seen in Roanoke.  In fact I think we had worse flooding last summer.

I can only remember being scared once in a flood. In 1974 we were driving from our home in Saint Croix Cove, Nova Scotia to visit friends who had just moved to north of Fredericton, NB.  There's an area just east of Fredericton, called Jemseg. In the Jemseg area it is hard to find high ground there between Grand Lake and the Saint John River. 

We got caught on a section of the Trans Canada highway that was flooded.  We ended up driving for miles in what seemed like a surreal water world where we could see no dry land for miles.  Fortunately we were driving in the wake of a large tractor trailer, but it seemed to take us forever to get to high ground.  I found a CBC story, "Water levels falling in Fredericton area," about flooding that took place in the same area one spring.

We actually ended up buying a farm probably forty or fifty miles from there, but you can rest assured most of the drive from the flooded area to there was uphill. 

So why do I want to get off a relatively safe mountain top (except when ice coats the street) and have a second home near the water?  I guess I've weighed the risk and found it to be acceptable.  The desire to be near salt water out weighs the risk.  There is no place that doesn't have some risk from drought, fire, earthquake, flood, winds, or water.  According to the "The Week" magazine, Conneticut and Rhode Island are the safest places to live.  I figure that's true only if there isn't a disaster in New York or Boston.

Of course this winter hasn't been very nice to Boston.

If you were able to live life without any kind of risk, it would be pretty boring.

Making a new life

Building a new life in an unfamiliar place is a little like following a newly bulldozed road through a forest.

You do not know what will be around the next corner.  It is a challenge, and it is one that many generations before us have met.  They met it without the services that we have come to expect.

Still getting settled in our complex modern society can be an exercise in frustration especially if you don't where to turn.

Since I spent over ten years farming, I am used to taking two steps forward and three backward at times.  I can appreciate challenges.

I know the best plans and intentions sometimes fall by the wayside, that is just the way it is

You have to persevere.  Just because you do not know what comes next, you do not give up,.  You prepare  yourself, and after surviving a number of challenges, you end up with a lot of confidence in your own abilities.  Sometimes you lean on those around you.

I have done that before and am happy to return the favor.

There is pride and a sense of accomplishment in staking out a new life in an unknown spot. 

I like to see people get to the point of enjoying a new area and discovering things that I don't even know.

These days there are few spots which are actually far off the beaten path, so often civilization is just around the corner.

Still it requires a lot of effort to re-establish your life in a place where you might only know a handful of people.

I read somewhere that 91% of real estate agents never call their clients after a transaction.  I find that hard to believe.

I know my clients have heard from me after the sale. I think that is part of my job as their Realtor.

Recently we were having dinner with a couple that had just moved into a home that I sold them.  One of the owners said it was real pleasure working with someone who also ended up being a good friend.

It was nice to know that I helped someone make those first few steps towards a successful new life in a great spot.

City Data forum challenges

I have been a member of City-Data forums for almost a year as dsobotta.  For the most part I have enjoyed doing posts there and answering questions.

Today I got banned from doing posts or responding due to "repeated deliberate" violations.  This apparently was the offending post.

The only thing that I can tell which was cut out was a link to email me if they had more questions.  Since I had seen others use the same email tool that is available, I assumed it  was okay.  I guess not.

Since I cannot respond on City-Data, I have chosen to respond on my own turf where I control the rules.  I welcome any of the moderators to comment here.

I thought I had been very cooperative and tried hard to work within the guidelines and with the moderators.

However, being a Realtor® adds some special forum rules which I have struggled to figure out.  I completely understand that my posts are not supposed to solicit customers, but the rules seem to go well beyond that and have a good deal of subjectivity.

I went to the considerable trouble to create duplicate content at a Crystal Coast site and strip out all advertising. It was a lot of work which consumed my spare time over a few days, but I was glad to do it because it was a good way to share my pictures and information about the area.

Not long ago, but prior to my banning, I got a note that all my posts were being searched for offending links to that site.  After the investigation I got this note.

The only link I really find questionable is the southern outer banks link.

I know you don't list your realty company with it but you do have an about us and how to find realtors even though those don't take a reader directly to you.

In spite of it just being questionable, all those links were purged which I thought was a little extreme since I could not even find where it took people to Realtors® other than me. As a Realtor® sending people to my competitors is something you would not normally do.

However, I did not complain I just stopped updating those sites since I could not longer use them.  That is why the content is not the same as my Coastal NC site.

Actually even on that site you have to go to the last page to get to any information about contacting me as a Realtor®.  I did that for a reason.  The reason being that the site is more about being an information source for the area than it is about being me being a Realtor®.

I have a number of pages and sites which are directly related to me being a Realtor®. Squidoo, My ActiveRain one, the one on our company website, Point2Agent, Zillow, and GMAC's website among others.

Never on my time on the City-Data forum did I refer someone to one of my real estate sites.  I also participated in the broader NC and Virginia forums when topics came up where I thought I had some information that would be of use to people.

However, at this point, I can no longer post on City-Data because of "repeated infractions."  I tried to respond to the message from the moderator so I could understand what I had done, but they also cut my storage so that the only way that I could respond would be throw away most of the positive emails that I had stored.

In the end it does not do any good to argue (or maybe even cooperate) with moderators.  I will go serve my  banishment and evaluate City-Data forums again in the future.   I have my doubts as to whether or not I will come back.

I have actually ended up helping a number of City-Data folks but most were not as real estate clients. 

I have helped people decide whether or not this area is a nice place.  Many have ending up liking our area but have had some challenges that have prevented them from moving to the area, or they have found a place that they liked better.  Lots of times I show someone the area, and they have to find a job.  I am even helping a couple of people on their job search.

I like to meet people, and I enjoy showing our area so I am certainly glad for the people that I have met through the forum, but I would not call it a business windfall.

My newly chosen career in the real estate world is an unusual one.  We actually pay to work for real estate companies, and hopefully make up the money when we sell property.  That normally works pretty well.  It does not work well at all in a market like today's when you are a new agent.

As a side note, if I could make enough money to live on with my pictures and writing, I would give up real estate in a heartbeat. Unfortunately everyone has a digital camera these days and most writing like I do is done for free.  Real estate is one of the few places left where we old guys can work.

I know people who have been in the business for a year and have sold only one property.  I have done better than that, but it is hard going months without a paycheck.

So could my efforts on City-Data be considered trolling for clients?

Well based on the results, I would say hardly. 

The three clients that I am working with right now have come from the following sources.

1. A walk-in to our Cannonsgate Office.
2. Someone who was driving around our neighborhood looking at flyers, and I threw my body in front of their truck to answer questions.
3. A call-in to our Cape Carteret Office.

None of those people have ever heard of City-Data, and one does not even have a computer.

So suspending me from City-Data probably is not going to hurt my business.   Unfortunately I will not be able to post those pictures that people seem to love so much.

For that I am very sad.

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Update

Once again City-Data has put me out to pasture. According to one of the moderators I was up to my old tricks again.  Apparently my sin was suggesting that someone send me a private message if they had any specific questions.  When I told the person I was communicating with what had happened this was their response.

WOW, I am shocked.  I am so sorry this happened.

It is not shocking if you have seen how some of the moderators stalk the people really trying to provide good information to people.

I sent a note to the moderator but as usual there is no response back.  My response is this post at View from the Mountain.  It is an accurate assessment of social networking.  Unfortunately most online forums still value themselves far more than their real worth.

 

The Swansboro Oyster Roast and Cotillion

As a newcomer I had little idea of what to expect at the 27th Annual Oyster Roast which was sponsored by the Rotary Club of Swansboro and took place on March 17, 2007.  The only warning I had gotten from colleagues where I work was that there would be a crowd. 

I was beginning to think of the Oyster Roast as some sort of initiation that new members of the community have to go through blind folded.  Hearing that it was also called the Swansboro Cotillion only added to the confusion.  The last time I checked a cotillion was "A ball at which young ladies are presented to society."  What in the world could that have to do with Steamed Oysters?

I decided to show up at 5:15 PM which is a time that I thought was pretty early for dinner.  Somehow I was not surprised to find a long line of happy people snaking its way through the parking lot of the Civic Center. 

It was a little chilly in line, and some of the ladies were working hard to keep the line in the warmth of the sun, but it soon began moving swiftly.  As I already had a ticket, I got my green wrist ban and immediately saw this room filled with strange tables with people already crowed around them and occasionally cheering.

As a newcomer I had a lot of freedom to move around the tables.  The first thing I figured out was that in order to participate in the fun you needed a tool and something to protect your hands.  Fortunately there was a contingency plan for this situation.  Two gentlemen from Sneads Ferry were selling Oyster Knives and towels that conveniently took a five dollar bill. 

After getting my equipment, I started searching for a spot to stand at a table.  I quickly figured out that there were no spots.  It seemed the first wave of Oyster eaters were still hungry and guarding their prime spots.  I did discover that the cheering alternated between excitement at actually getting Oysters or trying to convince the runner that you were more deserving than the next table.

Finding the steamer tables full required only a slight change in tactics.  I decided to take advantage of the Fried Flounder, Barbecue, Slaw, and Chowder buffet line.  I got a plate which was filled rather quickly.  In fact there was no room for a Hot Dog or Chowder.  After finding some iced tea, I took a seat at one of the many long tables in the hall. 

The Flounder very lightly breaded and fried perfectly. I thought to myself that I needed to check out these expert Flounder Fryers before I left.  The barbecue was also good but not quite as good as the fresh out of the smoker barbecue I had found at the Emerald Isle Saint Patrick's Day Festival. 

Still the plate food at the Oyster Roast was only delicious appetizer.  The real treasure of the day was waiting for me back in the Oyster Hall.

On the way back I decided to take a look at the behind the scenes operation.  I ran into the head of our company, who had so kindly provided me with a ticket for my first Oyster Roast.  I got to meet his son, who was one of the Oyster Runners.  As I surveyed the scene outside the building, I was awestruck by the size of the operation.

First there were the cement mixer-like machines which washed the Oysters before their trip to the rows of steamers, then the Steamed Oysters went to buckets for delivery to the tables.  At the tables the Oysters once stripped of their treasure were pushed down a chute in the middle of the table which landed them in a trash can which came back to be emptied into a front end loader which placed the empty shells in a dump truck for a trip back to the water.

After figuring out the Oyster Roast operation I watched almost mesmerized as the well practiced Fish Fryers took fresh flounder, rolled it in batter, and quickly turned it into a delicious fried treat.  I struck up a conversation with the Hush Puppy Man who seemed to be dropping them in the oil to a tune playing in his head.  He confirmed that having rhythm was important to a good hush puppy.  After snapping some more pictures of the operation, I decided it was time to enter the fray and not give up until I found a spot at a table.

It took only a short time to find a spot as some of the early eaters were reaching their limits.  I found a spot by someone native to Swansboro who had driven 120 miles from Lumberton to be a guide for his daughter and son-in-law's first Oyster Roast.  It turned out to be a fortuitous spot since I was able to also learn at the side of a master Oyster Shucker.  When I got to the table the team was just finishing up a batch.  We only had to endure a few steaming buckets bypassing us before we got a huge dose of hot Oysters.  I was told to start work on the hinge if possible.  With minimal effort I  pried out several of the treasures.

Most people were dipping them in butter or sauces that they had concocted.  However, I thought the perfectly salty oysters were great straight from the shell without any additional flavoring. I even ate from a neighboring shucker was found a particularly huge one that was more than he wanted to tackle.

I have never had oysters this plump and juicy.  I took advantage of one piece of sage advice from the Oyster Master next to me.  When I got to point of thinking I could eat just one more, I stopped before I ate the one more.  It was very good advice.  With a belly full of oysters not to mention my appetizer plate, I could only manage to listen to the music from afar since there was a sunset about to happen on the White Oak, and it was calling me.  I never did get a beer.  I guess that will have to wait.

I know one thing I will be back next year, and I will have a team of Oyster Eaters with me, ready to capture our own table.  I am already looking forward to it.  If you would like a full tour of the event check out the website of pictures I put up.

What makes a place feel like home?

A view like this from our back deck can make you feel like you are home.  But often it takes more than a view to make a place really seem like home.

During most of my corporate career I traveled a lot.  We lived in Roanoke, Va for over eighteen years. 

Much of that time I was driving up Interstate 81 and spending time in Reston at Apple's office beside the Dulles Toll Road.

Eventually I got to the point that I could no longer take staying in a hotel.  It did not matter how fancy the hotel happened to be.  I just wanted something that did not change and felt like home.

I was lucky in that my oldest daughter graduated about that time, and we rented a two bedroom apartment in McLean.  The first summer my son came up and slept on the living room floor so he could do an intern job.

It wasn't too long before my daughter bought a three bedroom townhouse in Reston.  That became my second home. The smallest bedroom became mine temporarily.  I could leave clothes and toiletries three. I didn't have to make reservations, and I got to spend time with my Northern Va. family.

While having a bed and my own space was a huge step towards home, having familiar surroundings outside the home also plays a big part in making an area feel like home.

In today's world more often than not the stores are same, only the people change.  Still there are differences.  I used to enjoy an occasional visit to Reston Kabob.  There were many nights when we would meet for dinner at Marie's at South Lakes Plaza. Marie's which has been gone a while was a family kind of place.  They knew me since I would grab lunch there also at least once a week.

Beyond the restaurants there were the grocery stores since I always cooked my own breakfast and tried to a cook a meal or two when I was visiting.  I used to frequent the Giant on North Shore.  It was small and sometimes even ran out of chicken breast or hamburger, but I could get in and out of there in a couple of minutes.

Of course having a Books a Million and a Barnes Noble was like having a dream come true to a reading addict.

Still my favorite spot was Whole Foods.  While I enjoyed Trader Joe's, I often marveled at the plants and exotic foods that made it to the shelves of Whole Foods.  Some of the things I enjoyed from Whole Foods became such a part of my routine that I would load a cooler up with ice and take them home to Roanoke.

The other night we were headed from Roanoke to Cape Carteret to find some warmth, and I was on a mission.  I wanted to find the Whole Foods in Cary, NC. It did not take a lot of effort.  It was  just a  short distance from where 64E run into US1 N.

When we turned into the parking lot late that evening part of me felt like I was home in Reston.

It was a good feeling finding some familiar things that had long been absent from my routine.  I was saddened to find that Icelandic Salmon no longer makes it to Whole Food's cases, but there was no shortage of good things that could be replacements. 

It was a great experience aside from having to drag my wife out of the orchids at the front of the store.  She was overwhelmed.

As much as well known stores and a house with your things can help make a place field like home, routine and rhythm also play a part.

Every place has a different rhythm.  Synchronizing yourself with it makes you feel part of the place.

In Reston, traffic is one of the key rhythms. You learn to structure your life around the traffic jams.  Timing what you do according to traffic flow becomes second nature.  You go to lunch when you know you can find a parking place.

In Roanoke ice and storms in the winter immediately restructure people's lives.  If you live on a steep hill, you know when the sun will melt the ice and likely what time in the afternoon that it will refreeze.  You make plans around those times.  Some roads you just avoid when ice is prevalent.

In Cape Carteret, we are even closer to the elements. Weather is a big topic just like it used to be when we lived on a farm in Canada. When the weather is good or there is beautiful sunset on tap, you will find people making time to enjoy it.

Beyond that the shifting regularity of the times for high and low tides often adds structure to our lives. We are in place with lots of water spread very thinly so it makes sense for people to know when low tide will arrive.

Finally it takes people to make you feel at home.  In Reston I had family and an office family.  Most weekends I was home so my church family and other friends remained in Roanoke.

Now that we are in Cape Carteret, I have an office family, a church family, and a neighborhood which is southern enough that I actually know several of the my neighbors.  We have also started making some other friends.  It's pretty easy to do here on the coast.

The stores here are pretty different from Reston and Roanoke.   We do have an Ace and a Lowe's Home Improvement, but there is no Giant and no Kroger (the Roanoke grocery store of choice).  And the closest Whole Foods is about 2.5 hours away.

Yet I do believe that the most important thing in making a home is your mindset.  If you want to find the good in place you will find it.

My Giant on North Shore and Marie's are gone.  Reston will never feel like the same home again.  I have changed also, and my office family is long gone.

Even in Roanoke, my neighborhood Ace Hardware disappeared. We recently visited our favorite inexpensive restaurant, the Pancake House, and they were closed temporarily due to the lack of help.  Roanoke might never be the same home again either. It has changed along with me.

So we cannot depend on stores to make a home for us, we have to put our trust in our own minds to build our homes with the pieces that we find and our own changed realities.

Sometimes we move and have to regroup the pieces, but it can be a very positive experience.  Change is constant, and you can always go home if you carry part of it with you in your head and look for the good in your new surroundings.

Maybe that mindset is why I have managed to be happy for so long.

The flight to warmth from Roanoke

Don't get me wrong, I love Roanoke.  The sun rising over the mountains is pretty hard to beat even when it is so bright that it is almost impossible to photograph.

Still Roanoke's recent weather has not exactly been kind to those of us who love warmth.

It also seems that the cold air gave Roanoke a wedgie.  At least a wedge of cold air running along the foot of the mountains seemed to get trapped in Roanoke on February 12.

On that Tuesday afternoon the thermometer up on the mountain at our house read 31 degrees.  There was also some moisture starting to fall.

Since I recently subscribed to the idea that February should not be a cold month, that 31 degrees at 4 pm was not what I wanted to see.

We took off on our regular trip to the coast in search of warmth.

For the first hour of driving down 220 through Rocky Mount and Martinsville the temperature remained fairly constant fluctuating between 31 and 33 degrees Fahrenheit.

As we crossed the border into North Carolina just south of Martinville and headed towards Eden on Route 14, the temperature finally climbed to 34 degrees.

By the time we got down Route 29 to Greensboro, the temperature had risen to 37 degrees. Driving another 30 miles south on Route 421 got us to 39 degrees at Siler City.  We turned east and in seventeen miles passed by Pittsboro where the temperature had risen to 42 degrees Fahrenheit.

Pittsboro is about the half way point in trip to the coast.  We had already picked up 11 degrees in spite darkness arriving.

Another twenty four miles and we were in Cary where things were starting to feel a lot nicer at 49 degrees.  We stopped to shop at Whole Foods which often makes me feel as if we're part of the Roman Empire because of all the far flung places which fill their bins.  We went away with some nice looking United Kingdom Salmon, lots of neat cheese, and some great bread.

We headed east on Interstate 40 from Cary and as we passed the Smithfield exit about thirty miles later, the temperature zoomed to 54 degrees.  I started smiling at my wisdom for bailing out of Roanoke.

About two miles later, I could not believe what I was reading, the air temperature hit 65 degrees just about ten miles east of where Interstate 40 crosses Interstate 95.

I did not dare hope for any further rise, but we did see a few reading of 66 degrees until we pulled into Swansboro a couple hours after passing Interstate 95.  There by the water within sight of the Intracoastal Waterway, the temperature slipped back to 63 degrees.

As we drove through Cedar Point and turned in Cape Carteret to head a couple of miles up the White Oak, the temperature rose back to 64 degrees.

Even an hour later at well after midnight, it was still 64 degrees at our home.

We got about 1.25 inches of rain during the night, but when I got up the temperatures were still holding in the mid sixties.

I talked to my son in Reston, and he said they were seeing some freezing rain which apparently also touched Roanoke in the higher spots.  I don't miss having to put on the chains for my feet just to get the newspaper.

Today was even better than last night.  This afternoon about three pm I went for bike ride wearing a tee-shirt and short.

Now that is my idea of good weather.

For those that think there isn't a much of a difference in temperature on the Carolina Coast during the winter, all I can say is keep believing that if you want to stay chilled in February.

Smoke over Roanoke

Yesterday, it felt like our home was going to blow off the mountain.

This morning just before 7 am, I snapped a picture of this layer of smoke with reflected pre-sunrise light.  It was hanging over downtown Roanoke.

At 7:30 am the smoke is still streaming across the valley from some wildfires which were fanned by yesterday's unbelievable winds.

The Valley's trees really suffered yesterday.

We went out for pizza last night, Keagy Road was blocked by a fallen tree.  I also counted eight or nine pine trees blown down on Hidden Valley Golf Course.

I have no doubt that the reports of 65 mph and greater gusts were true.  We have lived in Roanoke on the foothills of Twelve O'Clock Knob Mountain since 1989.  I have never seen the winds blow harder than they did yesterday.

It's a good lesson the power of mother nature here in the mountains.

Update- this afternoon when I took a closer look at Hidden Valley Golf course, I counted eleven pines trees down.

Ten ways Carteret County met our needs

Figuring out a place to live is perhaps one of the most complex things we do with the exception of finding a partner for our lives.

There are actually some remarkable similarities. While you can visit a place many times or go out on numerous dates with your mate-to-be, you likely will never really know them until you get married.

At a certain point, a leap of faith is involved in choosing a mate or a place to live. You have to gamble that both the facts and your intuition are right. Even after years, you might not know if you have made the right decisions.

Eventually, you come to the point of choosing to make lemonade out of any of the lemons you have found in your life or making radical changes.

I am happy to report that I haven't had to make much lemonade either with living in Carteret County or with my soul mate.

When we started looking for a place, we did it together with the knowledge that no place is perfect.

We also began our search with the thought that time is of the essence which means that if we were going to try something new, now was the time.

Neither of us wanted to be stuck as our parents had been in their homes of many years without having tried a few of their dreams.

So we started looking for a new place to call home for at least part of the year.

We had some rigorous criteria.

First, the place had to be warm, but it had to still keep us in touch with the four seasons.

Second, our new spot had to have a growing economy where I could perhaps find a job and keep making some money.

Third, we had to be able to see water just about all of the time.

Fourth, the people had to be friendly and enough of them had to live in the area year round so that we could have some neighbors.

Fifth, we had to have more services than when we lived in the Canadian boonies. We wanted a reasonable selection of restaurants and stores that could be reached in minutes and not hours.

Sixth, we wanted to be relatively safe from day to day risks. Having survived temperatures as low as minus forty and seen plenty of storms, floods, and blizzards, we are respectful of mother nature, but not the types to hide on the Canadian Shield while waiting for the end.

Seventh, we sought an area where we could have an active outdoor lifestyle with places to hike, walk, bike, kayak, boat, and swim. We did not want taking part in those activities to involve a lot of extra effort or travel.

Eighth, the place had to have interesting people and places. We wanted an area where not everyone was born there and never moved away. We also wanted museums and places of public interest that could keep us having fun even when the weather turned nasty.

Ninth, we sought a spot where every day of our lives we would be reminded of how beautiful our world is.

Tenth, our spot had to be affordable and a good investment.

After much looking, we found Carteret County. It has turned out to be a wonderful spot with beautiful beaches, wonderful trails, and plenty to do in good and bad weather.

It is a gorgeous area which I appreciate even more. These are some photos I took during our first two years.

We love the trails which allow us to get even closer to Mother Nature. This was one of our first boating trips and we continue to enjoy and respect the areas waters.

We like Emerald Isle so much that we wrote a travel guide about it and included information about Swansboro and Beaufort, two of our favorite places.

Helping people learn about the area including the history of the  White Oak River makes me feel closer to the area and hopefully brings to Carteret County more people who care about protecting the area's the area great beauty and priceless natural resources.

Carteret County has exceeded our expectations (and we are still here in 2018).