A Geezer's Guide to Mattamuskeet Lodge
When I was a wee lad on annual vacations to the family beach house at Nags Head, I was often dragged off to Lake Matamuskeet to go fishing and/or birdwatching with my old man. That had something to do with the fact that the old man was a yankee who could only take so much togetherness with a houseful of southern inlaws before he needed to get off for some peace and quiet. In the early days there was plenty of both (peace and quiet) at Mattamuskeet. The only sound that remains in my memory from those long-ago visits is the buzzing of mosquitoes!
I was always impressed by the huge white building with its tall tower right in the middle of all that wide, flat wilderness. It looked like something out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. As I remember, we never got very close. We weren’t there for sightseeing after all.
Since moving permanently to the Outer Banks 21 years ago, I’ve continued to make occasional trips to the lake, mostly for birdwatching and more recently for crabbing. But in all that time, the lodge has been securely locked up. So a few days ago, when Sundae announced her plan to attend Friday’s meeting on the grounds of the lodge, I decided to take my new favorite traveling buddy, 8-year-old Mariah and tag along.
I’m not much for meetings, so after dropping the wife off at the lodge, Mariah and I headed up to Lake Landing to try our luck crabbing. On the recommendation of Tom Payne (our local crab guru) I didn’t waste time trying closer to the Lodge. We’d barely been at Lake Landing long enough to realize the crabbing was lousy when I got a text that the meeting was over and that if we wanted to, we could come take a tour of the inside of the building. So off we went!
Since the 99-year-old building is undergoing an on-again-off-again refurbishing, the interior was pretty well gutted but Anita Fletcher (who happened to be among the attendees) pointed out some furniture and paneling that had been the handiwork of the C.C.C. The view down the canal and across the lake from the large arched windows of the great hall called to mind the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles. We were then invited to form into small groups for a tour of the tower.
Although my womenfolk declined, I recognized this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and followed the guide up to the second floor, through the doorway ominously labeled “NO” and onto the rusty spiral stairway that ascends what was originally built as a chimney for the largest pump in the world. What was it like? Picture the Hatteras Lighthouse staircase with about 1/3 the diameter and each step covered with fallen plaster and large flakes of rust. The spikes securing the stairway to the bricks were quite thin and rusty as well.
I don’t really enjoy high places but the press of the other well-fed members of my group propelled me through the door and onto the rusty rim precariously fastened to the outside top of the tower. It normally requires both of my hands to take a photo with a smart phone, but for some reason I couldn’t pry my right hand off the inside of the door jamb. That, I’m ashamed to admit, is also the reason my photo of the view down the canal from the top of the tower was taken through both sides of the observation deck.
On the way back down, I counted the steps: 120. No wonder these old legs are a little stiff this morning!
