Myrtle

We went back to the mainland and headed south.

Cotton fields ready for picking. A drive-through beer and car wash combination called ‘Buds and Suds.’  A place called Dismal Swamp. A gun shop with a sign that said ‘Vote Democratic – it’s easier than working.’

We managed to stumble upon the best hot dog in North Carolina in Washington. The wiener was unnaturally red and the chili was oddly beige, but it was a pretty darn good dog.

We drove and drove and made it to Myrtle Beach in time for dinner.  Pulling into the town at night was a bit like pulling into Vegas – lots of lights. Excessively bright lights. And, as we had been warned, lots of miniature golf. We didn’t count, but 35 mini-golf courses seems accurate. Huge miniature golf places – with caves and volcanoes and dinosaurs. The kind that a 4 year-old boy doesn’t miss. (Un)fortunately, like a lot of our trip, most of the tourist things seemed to be closed down for the winter. No golf in miniature or water parks for us. The bummer for us was no boardwalk rides either.

The next morning on the ride out of town, Bode was a little forlorned in the back of the van looking at all the possibilities of what could have been (had the season been right AND his parents been cooler).