The first sign that I was getting close to Walker World came in the form of a two-toned, white-and-purple compact sedan parked half in the woods on the side of a dirt road.
Then, in the distance, I saw weird Wilmington’s answer to the golden arches: a gateway emblazoned with “Walker World” in giant letters, the motto, “In here, it’s always Friday” in smaller letters above. The word “yes” was posted on a tree beyond the gates, and I almost missed seeing a recycled sign from the old Market Street location of the Cape Fear Museum that stood ready to greet visitors as well.
Welcome to Walker World, also known as Walker World Organic Artist Retreat, where the party never ends and freedom is the only rule.
“It just looks cool to have a car up in the air. Freedom is the theme. There’s no reason not to do these things.”
Located in northern New Hanover County’s Castle Hayne community, tucked between the mostly dirt Blossom Ferry Road and the Northeast Cape Fear River, Walker World is at once famous and a bit of a secret. It’s a yin-yang combo that appeals to the compound’s owner and namesake, Wilmington native Allen Walker, 50, who on this day sports a bushy handlebar ‘stache and a wooly swath of red hair that could use a trim, not that he’s worried about it.
I recently spent a few hours following Walker around Walker World. It felt like being in an immersive, and entertaining, documentary film (which someone should definitely make, by the way) as I toured such open air, one-with-nature buildings as The Barn and The Witch Doctor, all of them constructed by Walker himself.
Walker World has already been immortalized on such TV series as ABC’s “RJ Decker,” which had film crews building a pop-up trailer park and rolling the title character’s mobile home into a giant, manufactured “sinkhole” for the show.
Amazon series “The Runarounds” staged a fictional concert here with an actor playing late North Carolina music legend Dexter Romweber. DC Universe series “Swamp Thing” shot extensively at Walker World as well.
“Walker World is a place created from the past that allows you to be present,” Walker said, nursing an ever-present Pabst Blue Ribbon. “At the moment that’s my single favorite quote about this place.”
On another level, Walker said, “It’s just it’s a place for people to come and party, honestly.”
Into the woods
The origins of Walker World date to the turn of the 21st century, when Walker purchased about 11 acres of land with waterfront access just east of the boat ramp in Castle Hayne.
At the time it was mostly woods, but Walker got to work building a multi-story house that rose out of the landscape and at one time even had a large tree growing through the middle of it. With now ex-wife Jamie Penn, Walker raised three children, added structures and invited friends (and their friends) for what felt like off-the grid parties.
“That’s how it evolved, organically,” Walker said. “Left by a woman I loved. Needed to make a living. I didn’t have a job, so I rented the house out for Airbnb. Looked on Airbnb, a house at Wrightsville Beach was $350 a night. I said, ‘(Screw) it, I’m gonna make mine $400.’ As a joke.”
His first customers, Walker said, “Rented it, thinking it was nice. … They got here, and they were (angry). And before they left, they had their arms around me. They’re like, “Oh my god, thank you. I love you.’ Now, I get (thank-you) cards from families every year.”
Part of the appeal of Walker World is getting to experience Walker’s rustic, self-taught craftsmanship, which uses a range of found and cheaply acquired materials in service of his free-form creativity, which appears to be limited only by his imagination.
Roaming around Walker World feels a bit like touring the corners of Walker’s mind while all synapses are rapidly firing, with seemingly disparate elements piled on top of each other, stream-of-consciousness style.
“It’s kind of like a slightly interactive experience,” Walker said.
Rusty radiators Walker salvaged from old buildings downtown dot a landscape dominated by mimosas (an invasive species Walker loves) and pear trees. One vegetable garden thrives, while another one has been given back to nature.
Massive, museum-worthy sculptures are hidden in the woods, as are various makes and models of old automobiles, including a truck that appears to rise out of the flora.
“It just looks cool to have a car up in the air,” Walker said. “Freedom is the theme. There’s no reason not to do these things.”
Walker has had a penchant for building since he was young. Growing up as a teenager on Orange Street downtown, he built a skate ramp that attracted kids from the neighborhood and beyond.
His most recent project at Walker World is something he calls The Barn, a towering silver structure with a giant tree painted on one side. Built on the shell of a former ranch house, The Barn features towering open spaces tied together by narrow, construction-zone-style walkways.
“I’ve got architects telling me, ‘Whatever you do, don’t (use) sliding glass doors’” for skylights because they’ll leak, Walker added. “And it doesn’t leak a … drop.”
The Barn’s upper floors are accessible by ladder-like stairs. Upstairs there’s a crash pad with a few beds, along with an 8-by-8-foot painting of a guy called Wild Bill who lives in an Airstream out back. A gifted piece by North Carolina “outsider artist” Clyde Jones that Walker said is “supposed to be worth $10,000” sits dustily on a beam overlooking the downstairs. A sweet dog named Iris follows us around.
A future project involves installing industrial shelving around The Barn for use as porches.
Outside we meet Darren Whitworth, “my good buddy,” Walker said, who helped him build The Barn.
“I mean, this place is a kid’s paradise,” Whitworth said.
Free form as it may seem, there’s a bit of a schedule to Walker World. Yoga on the pontoon boat by the river on Tuesdays. Ping pong tournaments Thursday nights. Bonfires most nights, and “beer every day with a ‘Y,’” Walker cracks.
Bands perform here on the regular, every other weekend or so, sometimes picking up an extra gig after playing the Palm Room in Wrightsville Beach or some other venue.
Walker World also serves as a final resting place for all manner of detritus freighted with Wilmington history. In addition to the old Cape Fear Museum sign out front, there’s a large flower sculpture from the old Blockade Runner hotel in Wrightsville Beach, as well as a sign from downtown Wilmington’s former Sally Shop, which was owned by Walker’s grandmother.
Then Walker takes me to what he calls “one of my favorite buildings, (The Witch Doctor). This is my masterpiece of hard ‘scapes. Those doors are from Egypt, I got a grand piano in there,” Walker said, sitting down and tinkling out an impromptu tune.
All in all, Walker said, Walker World can sleep 25 or 30 people, with plenty of room for others to camp. We make our way to the main house over a brick walkway designed to look like a map of the world.
There, I meet Walker Bankson and several of his friends, who are recovering from a three-day party.
“It’s a very special place,” Bankson said. “It’s a safe place for all different sorts of people. … I realized you could rent it out and have parties and started bringing all my friends that I Iove from all over the country.”
When he brings in new people, Bankson said, a typical reaction is, “This place is crazy.”
For a good time, call
Inside the main house, what looks like a hodge podge of decor has both rhyme and reason, at least to Walker.
A childhood portrait of Walker peers out from the wall near “my dad’s favorite note to me,” which reads, “Do not let my boat sink.’”
A trombone hangs next to an ancient revolver, with one of Walker’s textbooks from first or second grade open nearby.
“I mean, I literally keep everything,” Walker said.
Outside, past a miniature, open-air concert venue with a stage, a rope swing extends over the Northeast Cape Fear next to a dock with sailboats and several pontoon boats daisy-chained together.
“I’ve had so many parties with 180, 200 people here,” he said. “If you count up the Airbnb guests, that’s three or four thousand people that have stayed in the house.”
Sipping a PBR on the pontoon boat, Walker turns reflective.
“It’s like I had the courage to say (screw) it and do what I wanted,” he said. “That’s what I feel like.”
“I’m not saying I haven’t been a fortunate kid,” Walker added. “I’ve been overly lucky. I’ve, you know, been loved by many and hated by few. … I’ve had more fun here than most men have in a lifetime.”
Reporting by John Staton, Wilmington StarNews / Wilmington StarNews
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
