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Saturday, November 20, 2010

Wilmington, and its mojo

In our last episode, your heroic heroes brushed elbows with America’s fighting forces and possibly suffered the side effects of America’s fighting all-beef gas station frankfurter.


Enter: Wilmington, NC.

About 6 months ago, Vanessa and I spent 23 hours in Wilmington for a dear friend’s wedding before I had to get back to Texas to study for the bar exam. 23 hours well spent, because I saw my friend enter the life matrimonial and I also passed the bar. However, 23 hours spent in Wilmington is about a week too short.

Wilmington is a town with moxie, and deserves more than 23 short hours. We also selected the proper weekend for a visit to Wilmington, because the city was hosting an Ironman triathlon the next day. 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike ride, and a full marathon…all in the same day. When the locals spied me and Vanessa clad in bicycles and spandex, they assumed that we were Iron-people about to try an athalon. (Editor‘s note: the author refused to omit this unsuccessful attempt at humor. Our apologies.) Unfortunately, cherished readership, Vanessa and I are not Iron-people. We did, however, meet some Ironman triathlon participants. In a battle of perspective, the Ironmen tried to convince Vanessa and myself that they could never do what we are doing, and Vanessa and myself tried to convince the Ironmen that they were invincible endurance-psychotics. In all seriousness, the Ironman participants are inspirational folks, with mettle made of steel.

Thankfully, Vanessa and I didn’t have a crazy race for which to prepare, so we found a pub/Laundromat where we drank a few beers and made clean clothes. Wilmington was particularly vibrant that night because of the Cucalorus Film Festival, which attracted swarms of “folks interested in film,” otherwise known as hipsters and rich people. The film festival meant that most nightspots would be showing films that night, with a sizeable cover charge. In lieu of crowds and steep covers, your heroes ducked into Fat Tony’s for great all-you-can-stuff-into-your-face pizza and…….drum roll……WEEPING RADISH BEER! Our ride through North Carolina has come full circle! Brian, your beer keeps following us (or maybe we follow it)!

Wilmington, thank your for the clean clothes, the full bellies, and the quenched thirst.

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