Gate 35 appeared almost as a dream.
I was driving north from Chapel Hill to Hillsborough on Old NC 86 late one afternoon in early December, a time of fading light known as the gloaming. The sun hadn’t officially set, but with a mostly cloudy sky it might as well have. Little light remained, but just enough that, passing by at 55 miles per hour, I thought I glimpsed what appeared to be dirt road guarded by a familiar gate, a chalk-white chain-link iron bar suspended between two forest green posts. I made a mental note of the location, and a Post-It Note to return and check it out.