Whether it’s driving to Northside High School to watch the Panthers or crossing the Pamlico River to catch a Pungo baseball game, route 264 can be a repetitious and rather neutral anthology of farmland, neglected barns and homey country stores. Hang a right on Camp Leach Road, a turnoff on route 264, and open country highway gives way to narrow, curvaceous back roads.

Traveling along this unfamiliar stretch of Beaufort County bends, the countryside exposes a dense grouping of pinus palustris, better known as the longleaf pine, and extensive shrubbery, both of which began to line the roadside in a welcoming fashion. The thickening backdrop a prelude for what awaited around the next bend, a taste of what most of my close to two-and-a-half mile hike would consist of.

Goose Creek State Park, one of 14 state parks in eastern North Carolina, arguably one of the most diverse, covers 1,327 acres of coastal wetland on the Pamlico Sound. With just a few miles of road, most of the park is only accessible by foot.

After obtaining a map, simple and nonspecific in nature, from the visitors center, I chose to bypass the formal introduction and hit the trails. Of course, finding a place to park in close proximity to the trail was a priority and proved to be a bit confusing at first. Due to the outdated map exhibiting fictional parking lots, every inch of roadway foliage was observed while trying to scout out the most convenient place to park.

Once I hit the trail, though, I was graced with a sensory explosion of colors, sounds and textures exclusive to this part of the country. Within the first quarter mile, the dirt trail slowly gave way to sand and the greenery thinned, revealing an overwhelming vista of gentle blues and ominous, nutrient deficient trees.

After soaking in the view, two miles of spongy, moss-covered trail lie ahead. Timeworn oyster shells and coral dotted the forest floor, and dogwood, the state flower of North Carolina, was prevalent.

Ahead, a wooden bridge gave hikers a clear path through a deep marsh. It stretched further than they eye could see, not because of its length, but because the growth overcame the majority of it. Dogwood and foliage stretched over the bridge like a canopy, as frogs and lizards scurried across, hiding under the wood.

Finally, the vegetation subsided and the trail was exposed, once again. Butterflies flaunted all colors and the birds, while concealed, were clearly present by the blend of different calls. Woodpeckers even contributed to the mix.

By the time I reached the end of the trail, I realized that I had seen just one person, a maintenance worker on a quad. The entire three square miles of park were vacant, likely adding to the nature-filled experience.

In the end, I was gratified with the hike, even the two-mile trek back to the car along the same path. Because in this beautiful part of the state, it’s never the same trail, no matter how many times you hike it.