Ever seen 50,000 acres of water That is exactly what you get at Kerr Lake State Recreation Area, a massive reservoir straddling the North Carolina and Virginia border where the shoreline stretches for over 800 miles. Its absolutely huge. Forget tiny city parks because this place feels more like an inland sea, especially when the wind kicks up chop and the jet skis start buzzing past Satterwhite Point. You can practically hear the sizzle of hot dogs on the camp grates from here.

Pitch your tent right by the water. Anglers pack their boats with heavy-duty tackle to hunt down massive striped bass, while families claim their spots under the loblolly pines at one of the seven different access areas. Actually, some spots even stay open for late-night boat launching. It gets loud on holiday weekends. But if you grab a canoe and head out early in the morning, you will have nothing but the mist and the herons keeping you company before the ski boats wake everyone up.

Before the massive reservoir drowned the valley, small-scale tobacco farmers and timber companies owned this dirt. They made their living along the banks of the Roanoke River. Then came the devastating flood of 1940. It ruined crops, washed away livestock, and tore down homes. So, the federal government stepped in. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers bought up thousands of acres of private family plots in the late 1940s. Some families had worked this ground for generations. They had to pack up and leave. Engineers built a massive concrete dam to tame the river. Construction lasted from 1946 to 1952. By the time they finished, a 50,000-acre body of water swallowed up the old homesteads, barns, and dirt roads.

You can still find traces of that lost world if you look closely. Before the floodgates closed, workers had to relocate more than 2,000 graves from old family cemeteries to higher ground. Talk about an eerie undertaking. Today, scuba divers occasionally explore the flooded ruins of old highway bridges and stone foundations sitting deep underwater. Back on dry land, hiking trails follow the paths of abandoned 19th-century wagon roads. You might even stumble across old stone chimneys standing alone in the woods. They survived the bulldozers. These silent stone pillars offer a quiet reminder of the farming communities that vanished overnight.