Visiting the Bunker: Freshest Impressions
It's one thing to see The Fort Fisher Hermit and have a basic understanding of the life and death of Robert Harrill. It's an entirely different sort of animal to spend a Wednesday morning under the oppressive August sun where the man actually lived, pretending for just a few hours to be a survivalist. The Fort Fisher Hermit's School of Common Sense, named in honor of the school that Harrill dreamed to create with the revenue from his unfinished book A Tyrant in Every Home, offers any fan of the hermit the chance to explore the same marsh paths that Harrill once walked.
We all have a respect for the hermit before the tour (some of it, for those who met the man, less distant than those like me who came across him in a second-hand sort of way); that much is given because we're lined up outside the Fort Fisher Aquarium at ten minutes to 8 a.m. ready to watch Rob Hill's film and do God-knows-what-else in the dunes behind the museum. What we don't yet know is that our entire understanding of the man is about to be reconstructed; we will see the bunker, feel the hordes of mosquitoes, sweat through our shirts due to the sheer brutality of the unfiltered sun, and climb knee-deep into the muck of the marsh so that we can try to "feed" ourselves. By the end of the morning, we've seen two snakes, caught three puny crabs at the expense of most of our bait (why we don't just "eat" the bait-fish I'll never understand), and had one of our fellow hermits give up.
This is not the life we've been raised to lead.
At most, we spent two hours with nature (obviously, this does not include the 54 minutes we spent in an air-conditioned theater watching the documentary). Now, I'm not a nature person, but I'm not entirely a shut-in either. I've had my share of rainy canoe adventures and early morning horseback rides. The point is that two hours out there was enough for me to say, "O.K., I get it. Let's stop at Britt's Donuts on the way home."
I'll wrap this up now, but check back soon for something a little more concrete about the actual hike and all. Information here for dates, admission, etc. (fyi, the hike alone is $10, $18 w/ admission to the aquarium included).
We all have a respect for the hermit before the tour (some of it, for those who met the man, less distant than those like me who came across him in a second-hand sort of way); that much is given because we're lined up outside the Fort Fisher Aquarium at ten minutes to 8 a.m. ready to watch Rob Hill's film and do God-knows-what-else in the dunes behind the museum. What we don't yet know is that our entire understanding of the man is about to be reconstructed; we will see the bunker, feel the hordes of mosquitoes, sweat through our shirts due to the sheer brutality of the unfiltered sun, and climb knee-deep into the muck of the marsh so that we can try to "feed" ourselves. By the end of the morning, we've seen two snakes, caught three puny crabs at the expense of most of our bait (why we don't just "eat" the bait-fish I'll never understand), and had one of our fellow hermits give up.
This is not the life we've been raised to lead.
At most, we spent two hours with nature (obviously, this does not include the 54 minutes we spent in an air-conditioned theater watching the documentary). Now, I'm not a nature person, but I'm not entirely a shut-in either. I've had my share of rainy canoe adventures and early morning horseback rides. The point is that two hours out there was enough for me to say, "O.K., I get it. Let's stop at Britt's Donuts on the way home."
I'll wrap this up now, but check back soon for something a little more concrete about the actual hike and all. Information here for dates, admission, etc. (fyi, the hike alone is $10, $18 w/ admission to the aquarium included).
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