Continuing farther down the coast of the Outer Banks, I wanted to stop and walk out on a pier.

(Have I mentioned that I have a knack for picking the coldest, windiest, most frigid days to do this? Seriously… it’s a gift. If there’s one bitter cold day on an otherwise delightfully warm 2 week vacation? That’s the one I’ll choose to walk out on a pier.)

 

 

There’s the husband, bracing himself against the wind and giving me (and my phone) the evil eye.

 

 

And there’s the entrance to Jennette’s Pier, the biggest and best in Nags Head.

 

 

Gladly.

This type… and the other. It was too damn cold for either of them.

 

 

Approaching the entrance…. you don’t follow a yellow brick road.

 

 

But a line of memorial blue fish.

I love this idea!

 

 

A quick peek at the beach…

 

 

The map…

 

 

And me mumbling ‘Holy Crap it’s freezing! Can you read the pier history a little faster please?’

 

 

A quick peek at the beach on the other side.

 

 

Through the gate…

 

 

Past the turtle.

And finally, the door…

 

 

Where the husband had to hold on to his hat so it didn’t fly off.

It was that windy.

A brief warm respite inside to pay the $2 ticket price and out we went.

 

 

As piers go?

It rocked.

 

 

Even the birds agreed.

 

 

These guys were everywhere.

 

 

Fighting the wind just like us.

 

 

Hairdo?

Not so much.

 

 

So we walked….

 

 

Shivering in the arctic blast…. with the husband cursing me under his breath.

 

 

Good times.

 

 

Every now and then there would be a wind break where we’d huddle to catch our breath.

 

 

And then finally, we reached the end.

 

 

Where the husband realized we had to walk back, into the wind…. and started cursing me under his breath all over again.