A Corner Of Lake Lure

There are quite a few places that sent me to writing my first book, but Lake Lure really got me wondering. Actually, it was coming back from Lake Lure on one of our trips there that got me curious, and kept me curious for years. One summer, all hot and sticky like summer in North Carolina can only be, we are driving back from our stay at the lake. Outside of Lake Lure is a very rural area, neat little pull offs and old places, just an interesting juxtaposition to the quiet luxury of the lake. But what really got me were the low spots and little valleys on the side of the road. In the heat, the kudzu vine grew like it was a petri dish, a giant green weedy salad that covered everything in its path. And I just wondered what could be hidden under all those leaves.
I found out later that there really is something hidden under there. Not the kudzu, but the lake itself.
When the river was impounded with the dam, the area was mostly farmland, but there was a small community still on the land. The story I heard was that the town of Buffalo was bought up, lock stock and barrel, by Lucius Morse when he decided to create Lake Lure. The few people that were there were told to get out with what they could carry. Thus the town, the houses and some of the other bits of life of a farm community were left behind.
My favorite part of the legend was that the church was located at the dead center of the lake. The cold deep water preserved the church, its stained glass still whole in the windows, offering a service to only the fish that swim that deep.
And maybe to the spirits that were laid to rest in now watery graves.
The legend goes that if you take a boat out to dead center in the lake at midnight, you can hear the watery chiming of the church bell, still in the steeple, calling the souls to their pews.

Over the years I discovered so many other legends and tales to the place. Chimney Rock, attached at one end, is noted for its ghostly visitors, and two hotels are said to be haunted.

But that's for another story.

I don't hate Nicholas Sparks

I was going to write about the time I explored Lake Lure, one of the events that led me to write my first book, when I saw a post about Nicholas Sparks this morning. It seems that yet another of his books is going to be turned into a movie.

Now, I've kind of knocked Nicholas Sparks in the past. My go to line is to ask people if they liked my books, then to go give them a good review, as it helps sales. And if they didn't like them, well, I'm Nicholas Sparks. In the hopes they go give him a bad review, see? (I'm not really Nicholas Sparks.)

I really have no contempt for Sparks; on the contrary, I have nothing but bonhomie for the hugely successful turkey guy. My hangup comes from a Facebook post I read a few years ago. Some NC page asked who their fans' favorite writer was, and in a landslide, Sparks was mentioned more than any other writer. Even worse, some of North Carolina's best and most famous were not even mentioned. O. Henry (not a native, but a North Carolinian nonetheless), Clyde Edgerton, Thomas Wolfe (!), David Drake and Orson Scott Card in science fiction writing, Haven Kimmel, Jerry Bledsoe, Tom Robbins, David Sedaris, Daniel Wallace... I mean, Daniel Wallace barely mentioned! Maybe he wasn't even mentioned.

No Carl Sandburg.

No Paul Green.

So, really, I'm more disappointed that the favorite author of most people in North Carolina is a guy who writes, by his own admission, the same book, over and over. Two people meet, they are slightly confronted by each other, have to overcome an external problem, grow closer, but can't be together for some reason, and they separate, benefiting from the closeness they gained.

Yeah, I read a few of his books. That's the thing. He's a good writer. He can put the words together well, and the story flows. He has appeal, he's fun, entertaining. And, honesty, if I thought I could make the money he makes off those things, I'd write the same book over and over, too. And he seems like a nice guy. He ran track, and built a new running track for the local high school in New Bern.

And I don't really blame him for the crummy movies made from his books; that's rarely the author's fault. And, I know, The Notebook is pretty good. What do you expect? I has James Garner in it. Rockford was awesome.

Soooo, yeah... If you ever see me knocking Nicholas Sparks, I do it with love. And maybe a little envy, but not much, I'm really not that kinda guy. But I do hope people would open their library up a little. There should be a competition for the best author in my home state. I'm going to keep working hard to be part of that.

You stayed WHERE?!

Once I was married, I learned quickly to spend the money on a decent hotel. Oddly, my wife was more of the cheaper, it's just a bed and shower, kind of person. I was somewhat keen on a decent place to stay, later a nice place, but I always wanted a good location. My idea of a good room was that I could sleep in a hammock, wake up, fall out and land on the beach.
I have stayed at a few less than hospitable places, and it seems like quite often they centered around trips to Las Vegas. Go figure. Our first trip we spent the night at the Bun Boy Motel, cause we just couldn't make it all the way there in one day. Windy and hot, it was 99 degrees at midnight, I saw a leaf scuttling in the wind outside our room. Wait, nope, that's a mouse. Inside the air conditioning wasn't turned on, and the heat had killed a roach in the bathroom.
Other trips included a stay in Barstow, at a cheap room. It turned out that clean sheets were extra. We slept in sleeping bags. I thought of sleeping in the tub, but figured it wouldn't be any cleaner. I would have complained, but I didn't want to see the innkeeper in her nightgown again.
So we spend the money.

On our second trip to Carolina Beach, we stayed at the old Beacon House B&B. It has that nice and cozy look to it, just what you expect from an old beach house. The rooms were a little small, but it was in a nice little quiet end of the island. We were able to get up and walk right out to the beach. Plus, someone cooked breakfast for us.

Nowadays, it's less of an option. B&Bs sometimes aren't as suitable for families, and with dietary concerns, it's tough to get someone else to cook for us. Still it was a groovy little place.

We had stayed at The Golden Sands before, and really liked that place, but they not only pushed their rates up just too much, but they have some weird minimum stay thing, where we had to spend three nights there, for a weekend. Once again, good location, but I just figured we can do better. 

I write this mostly as a reminder for myself. I'm planning a new trip down to that area this spring. And I was thinking of sleeping in a tent, since it was just going to be a quick photo trip. 

Spend the money, Joe. Spend the money.

The Other Monument

Do you know about the other monument?

This really set me going.

Another of the early bits of hidden history I heard about was that there was another Wright Brothers Monument on the Outer Banks. I was so used to every tourist having to make the pilgrimage to the big monument, the pylon on top of Big Kill Devil Hill, trudging up, having to carry their kids cause it got too steep, any misstep meant that their feet would be embedded with cacti. But the view was worth it. And the kids got to run around the top, arms open, flying like airplanes out on top of the hill.

But there is another monument. It isn't nearly as imposing as that big granite one, but it is meaningful, nonetheless.

This is actually the first monument put up for the Wrights. It honors the beginnings of their first tests, Wilbur came down from Ohio, armed pretty much with an invite and some wood and cloth to start his first glider. He stayed for two weeks with the Tate family on the property where the monument sits. Orville would show up two weeks later with a tent, mandolin, coffee, and his new camera. They ultimately ended up in a tent about a mile away, testing their glider, mostly as a kite. They even took the Tates' nephew, Tom, for a ride in the glider.

The little monument honors the Wrights first glider, built on that spot.

The house was later given to the Methodist church and used as a parsonage. It was later burned down, and there is nothing left on the land now. The house next door is not the house they stayed in.

And, oddly enough, that's not even the monument. It was replaced in 1987 after the first was damaged from the fire and the elements. It's preserved in the nearby town hall.

I loved knowing about this one. I just thought it was so cool to know of the "other" monument. Later, when I got my car, the drive out to see this was one of my favorite trips on the beach. It helped that a little ways after the monument, the road curves over to the sound, and there's a great view of the water, and nice sunsets to boot.

Secrets well kept

Growing up on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, I heard and knew of various and multiple legends that permeated the islands. The tales and histories that happened on the barrier islands were rich and varied, surprising for a little strip of land with only a few thousand people that lived there at the time. But growing up with it, I guess I just took it for granted that my home was the home of the Wright Brothers, the Lost Colony, and Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.

I still listened to the legends, though.

One of the first tales I heard, in my teens at least, was this legend that, hidden in the Wright Brothers Monument, under the second vent, was written in braille the entire history of flight up until the time the monument was built. I remember reading it in some weekly newspaper feature piece, just a little blurb of things most people don't know. Well, now they did.

Of course, no one could really tell if this was true. The monument was locked tight. A legend attached to that was that during a tour, someone became claustrophobic and freaked out inside the narrow stairwell. I don't know if that is true or not.

I can say that the tale I "heard" is not. There is no braille history embossed under the vent in the Wright Brothers Monument. However, the real story was so much better.

Years later, in the beginnings of my first book, I began doing some research on that legend. It turned out that there was a brass plaque placed inside the monument, in an inset on the wall. It had a hexagonal map of the world, with etched lines of various firsts in aviation on it, from the Wrights up to 1928, with a flight by Kingsford Smith from Oakland to Brisbane. However, over the years, the plaque had been damaged from water leakage. It was removed from its spot on the wall, and had legs attached for a short time to make it a table. It was later removed, and long thought lost. By who, I don't know.

I simply asked about it at the National Park Service in Manteo, and they let me contact the curator of their Museum Resource Center. He knew exactly what I was looking for, took me into this big vault they have there, and pulled out the plaque, wrapped in cloth, and let me photograph it.

I felt like Indiana Jones, but to a lesser extent. There weren't any snakes.

So, there it was. I found it. Yeah, it never really was lost. But this was the culmination of years of wondering what the truth was about all the tales. It felt pretty good.

That is one of the things that set me in motion. A plaque, a tale, a bit of hidden history. The Outer Banks would figure prominently in my curiosity over the years, with legends and tales abounding. This one took decades to solve. But it was a great little success for me. I was inspired that I could do this, that I could find all the wonderful stuff hidden behind closed doors, or just off the road. Good Hunting indeed.

How did this get started?

Greetings, everyone!

No, really, I got permission to be here!

Yeah, that sounds about right. Welcome to my long desired discussion on the origins of my books, why I wrote them, what sent me on the path of creating Did You See That?

I'm Joe Sledge, author of Did You See That? A GPS Guide to North Carolina's Out of the Ordinary Attractions and Did You See That? On The Outer Banks. I try to describe my books as offbeat travel, or weird history, or roadside attractions, but they are all that and more. My books not only include a detailed description of some of the many strange and wonderful spots off the side of the road, they also include the latitude and longitude of each place, making it easier to find all the weird things that I searched out over the years. I'll be writing more about the places I've been, what I found, and didn't find, and all the great trips I went on. That I want you, dear reader, to go on as well.

I will begin soon with all the little spots, the tales and bits of history that put me on this path, along with some of the nice little odds and ends that I couldn't share in the books. I wrote them in third person, so they would be less of a journal of my travel life, and more to put you in the tale. 

But I won't be doing this alone, I hope. I certainly will be looking to engage the reader in participating. Feel free to comment, nicely, and I will be glad to discuss all this wonderful stuff with you.

Good Hunting, everyone!
Joe