The morning came where I had to head West into the midlands again. It was time. The night before I had followed a local's advice to eat at one of the seafood joints in Calabash. He said it was the "Seafood Capital of the World." I didn't notice any signs proclaiming that, but for a tiny burgh it had a whole lot of seafood restaurants. I was quite disappointed, everything was deep-fried, overcooked and clearly made me less mournful to be leaving the ocean. Perhaps I was getting a taste of things to come for my trip inland.

North Carolina is a lovely state. The flat-lowlands slowly broke into rolling hills, sometimes wooded, sometimes cropped with corn, tobacco, peanuts or soybeans. The shape of the barns were different, tall and narrow. I suppose this is to aid in the drying and curing of the tobacco that is grown in the area. Some of the tall, narrow barns had awnings built all of the way around, creating dry areas to store their equipment when it wasn't in use.

As I drove further I passed by a fruit stand. It was advertising "Fresh, Local Peaches" as its special and amended it with "Homade Ice Cream." Oooh, that was different. A few miles further I passed another fruit stand specializing in "Peaches and Homemade Ice Cream." I guessed I was onto a regional thing. A sign came up that a third fruit stand with home made ice cream was approaching and I prepared to pull over. Sadly, this one was closed. Hope was resurrected a mile further. Signs and an occupied fruit stand caused me to break and crunch my tires over the gravel parking area before the stand. I followed the regime of the signs, "Peaches and Home Made Ice Cream." Now I am not normally an ice cream eater. Sure, I like ice cream but as one passes through the stages of life one's metabolism changes. I found it better to simply pass on certain items. Certainly I couldn't consider this roadside homemade ice cream in the same light as Baskin Robbins or Haagan Dazs. Beside, how many states further might it be before the opportunity arrives again.

It just what the doctor ordered to break up a morning's drive. The peaches were delicious, the ice cream delightful. As I drove on, munching away, I quickly came into the town called Candor, North Carolina. Candor, proclaimed itself to be the Peach Capitol. Not the Peach Capitol of the World or the State. Just a humble Peach Capitol. This explained the peach-pushers on the road to town. I thanked them for the information and drove on.

Gastonia, North Carolina must be a bedroom community, where everyone there finds their City Center to be in Charleston. Otherwise I could not imagine what the City Council must have to do to entice people to stay there. "We're cheaper than Charleston and not too far away." The down town has a huge amount of potential that isn't being utilized at all. Whether money, imagination or effort, Gastonia has some work to do. But it is not hopeless. Gastonia has a botanical garden, and a nice museum. I recall some nice, abandoned theatres in the dead downtown. Specialized zoning plus incentives for someone to rebuild the theatres might enliven things. Then incentives for restaurants, coffee shops, and a night club or two downtown, how exciting might that be? Maybe a bookstore for people to browse after dinner and before the show. Gastonia had potential, I hope they see it and utilize it.