Every family has that one place everybody escapes to.
For the Clarks, it’s a little place on the waterway near Holden Beach.
Papa Clark has had it for about a decade, and for some reason, we’d never asked if we could borrow it. Maybe we figured somebody else already had plans. This year, though, Fourth of July crept up on us. Between work deadlines, podcast episodes, and life in general, we realized at the last minute we had nowhere to go. I could not miss America’s 250th. So Brandon finally picked up the phone.
Thankfully, Papa Clark didn’t hesitate.
“Y’all come get the keys.”
So we loaded up the car and rolled in late on July 2, windows down, smelling salt marsh before we even saw the water.
We dropped our bags, grabbed something cold to drink, and stepped out onto the back porch. The smell of the ocean drifted in on the breeze. No fireworks. No schedule. Just three days with nowhere we had to be.
Sand, Salt, and Sea Biscuits
We hit the beach early the next morning.
The first thing I noticed?
Shibumi shades.
Y’all…they were everywhere.
By lunchtime, I’d gone from, “Those things are kind of neat,” to, “I’m buying one before our next beach trip.” Price be damned.
The best part of the day, though, wasn’t the shade.
It was what we found scattered along the wrack line.
Fossilized sea biscuits.
Not one or two, but a whole handful of them, along with a few other fossils we still haven’t identified. There’s something about holding a piece of ancient ocean in your hand that makes you forget you’re hot, sandy, and starting to look like a boiled shrimp. Millions of years passed before those little fossils ended up in my hand, and somehow that makes finding them feel a little magical.
That evening we drove over to Calabash for supper at Beck’s, one of my favorite fish camps anywhere in North Carolina. I ordered the Low Country crab bisque and a seafood platter, and it was every bit as good as I remembered.
If you’ve never had Calabash-style seafood where it was born, that’s a gap in your life you ought to fix.
Independence Day
We spent the Fourth exactly where we wanted to be.
Back on the beach.
I wandered the shoreline looking for seashells while Bug settled in with a book. Brandon and Belle spent most of the morning in the water.
By lunchtime, I’d added another pile of sea biscuits to my collection, plus one huge piece of fossilized coral that absolutely made my day.
We took a break long enough to stop by Sunset Slush for their Fourth of July flavors, and every one of us walked away happy.
Lunch was at Salty Dog’s.
Yes…
I ordered crab soup again.
Don’t judge me. I’d been craving seafood all summer, and if I’m sitting at the beach, I’m going to eat enough of it that I start wondering if I should’ve brought melted butter.
That evening we cleaned up and headed to my cousins’ house for our annual Fourth of July cookout.
The newest addition to our loud, wonderful hillbilly family made his debut, and I dare you to look at that little feller without immediately falling in love.
Like every big family gathering, there were a few bumps along the way. Get enough relatives together in one yard and somebody’s bound to tell the same story twice—or ten times—but by the end of the night everybody was full, laughing, and happy to see the fireworks go off.
We made it back to Papa Clark’s, poured ourselves a little nightcap, sat outside enjoying the salt air, and eventually drifted off to sleep.
Heading Home
Our original plan was to squeeze in one more morning on the beach before heading back to the Sandhills.
The sun had other ideas.
After two straight days outside, everybody was completely worn out. Between the sunburns and pure exhaustion, I’m honestly surprised Brandon didn’t end up with sun poisoning after that first day.
So instead, we wandered through a few local shops, where I picked up a field guide to North Carolina seashells. Considering how many shells and fossils I keep dragging home, I figured it was probably time I learned what they actually are.
Before long, the car was packed, the windows were rolled back down, and we pointed ourselves toward the Sandhills.
We came home with sandy shoes in the floorboard, a bag full of fossils on the console, sunburned noses, and enough memories to carry us until next summer.
And next year?
I’ll have a Shibumi shade.
