So, on Wednesday, Angie's mom (Debbie) called us up and asked us if we would like to go on an all expenses paid trip to Myrtle Beach, SC. I had heard that Myrtle beach was sort of a combination of Atlantic City and Pigeon Forge, TN--neither of which are places that I would choose to go of my own accord.
LUCKILY, she was only being approximate. We were actually heading for somewhere much better: Ocean Isle, North Carolina. After a long and grueling trip to get there--one which included extremely sleepy driving and a night's stay at a crack den posing as a motel, we arrived here:
This WHOLE building.
Seven bedrooms, each with a master bath. It's own little boat dock on a tidal plain that is full of little water creatures, three blocks from an awesome beach. It normally goes for $5000! We got it for free. I didn't ask questions; I just enjoyed.
I went to the top floor, and if you can see past my fingers, you'll see an awesome kitchen/livingroom area that overlooked the tidal flats.
The tide is in.
The tide is out.
We went straight out on the flats and found baby king crabs, tasty blue crabs, and the largest hermit crabs that I've ever seen. We also caught a whole slough of unidentified fingerlings and baitfish. I caught the largest fish with a hand-net--a seven-inch version of something that clearly would grow to a much greater size, but I don't know what it was. Much fun was had.
The beach was gorgeous! The sand was warm, but not hot; the water was cool, but not cold (no one wants to feel like they're swimming in urine); the days were sunny, but not glaring or too hot; and the surf was big, but not too dangerous--a subject I will expound on right now.
Near Death/Paralysis
The surf was coming in at between 6-8 feet in a fairly predictable manner. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to learn to body surf. It took me a few tries, but I finally started catching waves and riding them in to the beach, landing softly on my belly after 25-30 yards. I had so much fun! However, I had to quit when I nearly broke my back and my neck on the same wave. it was a great eight-footer. I caught it just right and started slipping down the face in a semi-endless slide down the face with the foam chasing around my body. It felt as romantic as I hope I'm making it sound. Angie said that I looked like a swiming dog.
Anyway, I feel like on a good ride, you keep your feet right between the upper layer of water that is falling forward and the lower layer of water that is sucking backward. Unfortunately for me, on this ride, I got my feet too high. All of a sudden, instead of sliding forward, I was being driven like a stake into the sandy (and shell-y) bottom. My chest caught on the bottom before my chin hit--which on first though seems good, except that so much of my mass was pointed down instead of forward that when my legs continued forward, my body failed to follow. I got bent in half, backwards, to the soundtrack of two audible crunches--one in my lower back, and one in my upper neck. "I'm dead or paralyzed," actually ran through my head while I was still being neatly folded and pressed. I was a little stunned when I stood up and braced against the next wave's arrival. I am sore as hell now though. My back has been killing me all the way home. This might just seem like a close call and no big deal otherwise except that I have Spina bifada occulta, which is sort of an incomplete version of Spina bifada. Doctors have told me not to play football, wrestle, horseplay, to heavy lifting, etc... I ignore them. With the exception of activities classified under "work" or "labor", things involving the use of my lower back are unequivocaly my favorite things to do.
This was pretty damn close though.
