Time For A Change

Home Sweet Home

When I moved back to Virginia from Orlando Florida I found myself back where I was when I left, at Oceana Naval Air Station Campground, other wise known as Ocean Pines Campground. This also carried with it the task of moving my RV every 30 to 60 days like clockwork, or having to beg the base commander for the privilege to stay longer every single month, I have much better things to do with my time to be honest. On top of that entire load of crap, one is required to pay a higher price tag during the summer months. This is not my most favorite place in the world to boot.

I am ecstatic to report that happy coincidences seem to happen at the times they are meant too. Out of curiosity I did a search for RV parks on the outer banks. To my surprise I found one that was well within my price range, was long term, carries with it a one-year lease. The park also requires that I pay for my own power, cable, and phone; water and trash are included.  This quite frankly is quite perfect for me to be honest, especially during the winter months. All that this little adventure would require is a deposit and first months rent, both of equal amounts, a twenty five dollar application fee, of which I am sure is a load of bull just a way to get a few extra bucks. The final required ingredient would be my X to drive down and move me the hour and forty five minutes to the park which is located just after the causeway that enters Kitty Hawk from rout 158.

So given the fact that I had just moved up to Virginia Beach and had Direct TV come out and install my satellite, I packed up my little homestead, asked my ex came down from Maryland, given he had a break in settling his fathers estate he was happy to help out. We hooked up the RV to the truck and off we went. The hardest part of all this was not having any Internet or television for a few days. That is a whole blog unto itself.  I am happy to report that my issues with Sprint Network have been resolved as well as I am not literally across the street from one of their cell towers. I now have the best coverage ever, and to think all it took was moving down here to a little hole in the wall RV Park.

I met with Nik the park manager at the Border Station to drop off my copy of the signed lease and the money. For most people this would seem a little shady but he was away for the weekend and passing through that Saturday.  I wanted to move on that Sunday the 6^th and he was going to be out of town Sunday, so it made sense. As a former Real Estate Agent I am no dummy so I made sure that I had covered all of my bases with everything so that if it went south I would have proof. I got it all in writing and in pictures that is for sure! On Sunday I pulled in to the park with my RV in tow and moved in.

My first thoughts on the park were it seemed really nice. It was defiantly apparent as to why some of the rules I was given were put in to place, that is for sure. But it is a nice park all the same. According to one of my neighbors it used to be a trailer park. A trend that I see happening more and more which is not a bad thing as taking one over greatly reduces the start up costs as apposed to the cost of converting one over.

Now, I will fully admit that the vast majority of people that I have met have been beyond friendly, so much so that I witnessed the phrase about too many cooks in the kitchen first hand while trying to pull in. For the most part the truck got stuck in the sand and that took about two hours, six people, a towrope, and a 4x4 van to correct. Like I said Friendly people. I pretty much just sat back and let my ex and the neighbors figure it all out. It was quite entertaining to watch. But my rig is in and set up now and I could not have been happier that night knowing that in thirty days I would not be moving this beast to a new location.

With a new move comes a bit of nostalgia. My mother and stepfather had a place on the James River back in Virginia that was their weekend getaway. Sunken Meadow was a place that my family had visited longer than I have been around. I even have pictures of my Great Grandmother lounging on a blanket on that very beach. A few years before she passed Hurricane Isabel took out nearly the whole beach and their little getaway as well. This was rather upsetting to all of us. I have fond memories of sitting on the porch with my mom drinking coffee and watching the kids playing on the beach there. I mention this because my new home kind of reminds me of that very place. Like there, people here have their little out buildings; some of them have little decks built. I have plans for my own such improvements.

My little piece of Kitty Hawk is one that I plan on keeping for quite a while. Even if it turns into just a weekend getaway somewhere down the road.

Until next time, my adventure continues…