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Blog: Hunting Island, South Carolina

With my trip nearing it’s inevitable end, I find myself driving in the pitch blackness of the outer banks of South Carolina. The sun has yet to show it’s first hints of arrival, and I’m faithfully following the advice of my Google GPS.

It could very well be leading me into the depths of a random retention pond, and I wouldn’t know it till moments before impact.

I find myself reflecting on the trip as a whole and the places I’ve been fortunate enough to see over the past few weeks. And as I pull up to the Hunting Island State Park entrance I do momentarily find myself thinking the jaded thought of ‘How different is this sunrise really going to be?

The thought passes quickly as soon as I enter the State Park grounds. I find myself under a beautiful tree foliage that looks like it’s straight out of Jurassic Park. Palm trees and the like stretch to the sky and filter the sunlight in a kaleidoscope of shapes and hues.

Sunrises, never get old.

Because of the recent hurricane, the park itself has only been reopened a week. Apparently most of the local population isn’t even aware that it’s been officially reopened. At least portions of it. The cabins I’m later told have all been destroyed, and they’ve lost upwards of 80 camp sites. And because this, I literally have the park to myself for the first three hours it’s open. Love it.

I walk the beach and all along it’s length are the remnants of fallen trees from the hurricane, half buried in the sand and sticking out at various angles. It’s almost like an alien landscape walking the coast line.

I realize about half way up the beach, that there no other signs of human disruption on the beach head. Looking back at my foot steps I almost feel bad for the next person, if there will be a next person, for having disrupted this pristine beach.

I also notice these wooden posts pacularly sticking out of the sand at a number of odd angles. I quickly realize that this is where the walking path used to be before the hurricane. It’s now burried under four to five feet of sand drift.

Ultimately, about two hours into my morning walk, I do run into two other walkers. We exchange pleasantries.

The wind is light today. Sensing an opportunity, I go back to my car and grab my little camera drone friend. I don’t have to worry about him flying away today, or going anywhere where I’ll have to retrieve him, risking personal safety doing so.

I do a short flight and make sure to save the footage for later.

I also do a quick tour of the local light house. It’s the last 18 steps that get you. 😉

Nothing very remarkable happens at Hunting Island. But much like the rest of this trip, I’m glad I came.

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