The Currituck Banks National Estuarine Research Reserve in Corolla is home to wild boars.
(SACHA PFEIFFER/GLOBE STAFF)
COROLLA, N.C. -- The road was desolate.
There were no street lights, no pedestrians, no other drivers, no signs of life at all from the shuttered homes and stores along Highway 12 , a two-lane route notorious for its summertime gridlock.
It was dusk in February in Corolla, the northernmost village of North Carolina's Outer Banks and one of the barrier island chain's priciest peak-season destinations. We were headed to the Inn at Corolla Light, a resort overlooking Currituck Sound where rooms from May to September can top $300 nightly. An hour earlier, we had phoned to inquire about availability that evening.
Not to worry, we were told; rooms were plentiful. The price? A mere $65 a night.
Like Cape Cod , the Outer Banks is vastly different -- and dramatically less expensive -- in December, January, and February than at the height of tourist season, when their year-round population of 33,000 explodes to more than 300,000. The massive influx of vacationers brings the usual accompaniments : inflated room rates, packed tourist attractions, long waits at restaurants, and ghastly traffic congestion.
But during our four-day visit last winter, when we drove the whole 130-mile coastline from Corolla to Ocracoke Island, we had the place nearly all to ourselves. Without having made reservations, we slept and ate on the cheap at some of the Outer Banks' finest hotels and restaurants -- of those that were open. We roamed several of the coast's most beautiful nature preserves, including Nags Head Woods and Currituck Banks National Estuarine Research Reserve, where we spotted tusked wild boars -- but not another human.
We delighted in mostly sunny skies, temperatures in the 50s, and only one day of rain. And we were among fewer than a dozen people who rode the Hatteras ferry to Ocracoke Island one afternoon -- the same ferry that last July carried 165,000 passengers . Sizing up the ferry terminal's massive parking lot, which was nearly vacant but would brim with hundreds of idling cars in a few months, I concluded that winter showcases the Outer Banks at its best.
"People get great value for their dollar when they visit in the off-season, and they gain the experience of seeing the Outer Banks in a different light," said Carolyn McCormick, managing director of the Outer Banks Visitors Bureau. "You won't do any waiting in lines at restaurants or historic sites, you're going to get accommodations for 60 percent less than you'd get in July, and you'll see incredible species of birds coming through here. This is really the time of year to come."
Our trip began in Corolla (pronounced cuh-RAWL-uh), a one time fishing village that in 1984 was linked to Highway 12 and is now a shameful example of overdevelopment. Monstrous, charmless vacation homes, most of them rentals, clot Corolla's beaches, often several deep. Some are four-level houses with multiple kitchens, beds for up to 20 people, and pastel vinyl siding.
Still, Corolla is not entirely unappealing. It has a pretty lighthouse and a grand 1920s hunting lodge called the Whalehead Club; we enjoyed a simple lunch at Guava Jelly's, a cute cafe; the waterfront Inn at Corolla Light was wonderful; and the unspoiled Currituck Banks reserve was a highlight of our trip. My enduring memory of Corolla, though, will be the garish, Goliath-sized homes that have obliterated the coast's natural beauty.
Heading south, Sanderling , Duck, and Southern Shores -- which, along with Corolla, are known as the Northern Beaches -- are manicured resort communities, and I found them rather soul less. They offer shopping, day spas, and lots of restaurants, but you must be staying there to get beach access. Farther down Highway 12 are touristy Kitty Hawk, Kill Devil Hills, and Nags Head, filled with souvenir stores, hotels, eateries, and amusement parks.
There's much to do in these three towns, even off-season. We visited Wright Brothers National Memorial, which commemorates the birthplace of flight, Jockey's Ridge State Park, home to the East Coast's tallest sand dunes, and Nags Head Woods, a 1,400-acre maritime forest . We lunched at Kelly's in Nags Head because a local told us its sweet potato biscuits were divine; they were, as was its tuna, rockfish, and tilefish. And we spent the night at the First Colony Inn, a historic shingled Nags Head beach hotel built with wrap around porches and an oceanfront gazebo. From mid-June to mid-August, rooms can go for $279 on weekdays, but we paid only $62 during our midweek stay.
The landscape -- and my impression of the Outer Banks -- changed dramatically when we entered Hatteras Island, part of Cape Hatteras National Seashore . Most of this protected 75-mile stretch of coast is quiet, peaceful, and ruggedly beautiful, unlike the heavily developed communities to the north.
Immediately over the bridge is the 6,000-acre Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge, where more than 400 species of birds have been recorded . Across Highway 12, visitors can see the remains of the Oriental, a steamer ship that sank off the coast in 1862. There are scant other attractions in the seven tiny communities that make up Hatteras Island: Rodanthe, Waves, Salvo, Avon, Buxton, Frisco, and Hatteras Village. Buxton has the famous black-and-white Cape Hatteras Lighthouse and a no-frills restaurant called Buoy's that serves fantastic hush puppies; Frisco has a Native American Museum; and Hatteras Village has the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum, which chronicles the coast's shipwrecks.
Many visitors speed through these villages to catch a 40-minute ferry ride to Ocracoke Island, the southernmost tip of the Outer Banks. This 16-mile island offers simple pleasures: kayaking, canoeing, biking, visiting the "pony pens" that house wild horses. Ocracoke Island feels like a throwback to a long-ago time, and I loved its simplicity, its relaxed pace, its modest cottages with screened porches and weathered shingles.
We stayed at cozy Blackbeard's Lodge, the island's oldest hotel and one of its few year-round accommodations. Only four of the 35 rooms were rented, and the nightly rate was $50 rather than the usual $95. The smattering of open restaurants included Howard's Pub, where we had grilled mahi mahi, and Jason's, which enticed us with its homemade chocolate chess pie and Delaware peach crisp.
As with the rest of the Outer Banks, the depopulated island felt like our exclusive playground, and left us with a warm spot for this coastline in the quiet winter months.
Contact Sacha Pfeiffer at pfeiffer@globe.com. 
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