Thursday morning finally came! Four thirty in the morning. Dark outside I slipped out of bed and got dressed in the dark. I put on a pot of coffee and pulled out items from the frig that I had placed in there the day before to take with me on the trip. The truck was packed and everything save a few items for the last minute.
After saying goodbye to the wife , I headed to town to fill up with gas . Next I returned home which was on the rote south anyways and checked to see if I had the ropes I needed. By 05:25 I was west bound on my planned route. The day bloomed as predicted . A beautiful Carolina Blue sky was promised by the clear night sky. Cool but refreshing. My spirits were high as I headed south at Lumberton, NC on I-95. Two hours from there I would pull up in a very shady South Carolina, Coleton State Park to see a familiar Jeep with it new red cedar pirogue ( sans black bottom) on the trailer behind it. The high sheriff was inside a park office talking (?) to the park ranger. Karen. Chuck said he had toured the campsites and that two of them would serve our stay. Our plan had so far, been to camp and after meeting everyone, wed pull out for the river on Saturday morning.
The campsites were next to each other and very pretty. A swamp buffer separated us from the river and our tents.
My report separates into two reports here. One is about the river and the plans and how they had to change. The other report is about how we ate on this trip. Condemned men do not get this well of fare on their last day.
Chuck and I enjoyed the day by taking a trip down to the next state park , Givhans SP, some 15 miles down the road. This was to be our pull out on Monday morning. Turns out that the park is undergoing some road work. Lets say the one foot of sand needed something to keep it from blowing all over all the time! Plans were being changed already. Wed present the others with the scenario that wed pull out here but return to Coleton SP on Monday morning. The barren look of Givhans also endorsed our new plan.
Somewhere around 5 pm we looked up and saw Yaker pulling in. Smiles on our faces as we were glad the guy had found his way some 800 miles into this little piece of heaven. Fifteen minutes later Dave drove in. No boat on top his Jeep!!! He explained that he had to be back on Sunday , yet he came up to visit with us in camp. That was very great. At least to talk with him and allow him the privilege to be embarrassed by us !
So the night began. After Jimmy had rested, he pulled out some steaks that Paul Bunyon would have considered as large. I had the baked potatoes re-heating. They had been prepared the night before by my wife, Katie, and now were heating up anew on the fire grill. The camp was taking on a grand aroma .
It was quiet when the eating began.
The steaks were tender and juicy, the potatoes soft and melted butter and sour cream added their tastes to the plate. This was not a meal for babies.
Nest came the time to sit back and talk if one wished. And all wished to talk. Laughs began and never ended. Old tales were re-told. The new paddling plans were reviewed and Oked by the three of us who would paddle Saturday morning. I went to hit the Hennessey early. It had been a long day for me. But the others soon followed. The South Carolina adventure was to begin the next day.
The locals were more than nice. A small country store just outside the campgrounds declared egg bisques every morning beginning at 5:30 am. Soft drinks and a few other items were all that were on the shelves. But I did buy my fishing license there. Back down the road where I-95 and highway 61 crossed ( and where we all got off I-95) are three gas stations/store with one having a restaurant. Truckers know of this place by the local Cber at the helm in the store. Bags of ice were bought there . St George is ten miles north on highway 15. That road is the road off 61 that the camp ground is on. Everywhere is accessible from these two roads. The road to Givhans ( 61) was country and we noted that a public landing to the Edisto about half way between the two campgrounds was easily marked along the road. South Carolina was making paddling easier for travelers. Their prime rivers and lakes are now being marketed and you will meet many folks from all over the world around there. Yes, around the world. We met people from Europe Canadians next to us several nights were completive cane racers. Old geezers who followed the trails of competition that muscled their way up and down the river as fast as an electric motorized canoe could. One claimed that they run from 7 to 8 mph !
The two ladies at the corner grocery store thought me to young to flirt with but the high sheriff was primal meat. The sheriff hadnt lost his public image he had lost his youthful waist line.
Friday meals were bacon and eggs for breakfast, brats at noon, and home made spaghetti and sauce from Mrs. Dorazio ( Jimmies mom) . I have had the pleasure to have eaten this meal before in Virginia last fall when cold weather broke up the fall retreat in the Natahala River Gorge. It is to say breathlessly wonderful. The full aromas awaken the Italian in all of us. We all become bonded through the meal. No noises came from anyone while smacking our lips and gums tasting and lingering over each mouthful. Thats again and again Mrs. Dorazio for such wonder food! Boy we were roughing it eh?
bacon on taco ...
Saturday morning came and we had the camp packed up. Dave was to bring us all back from Givhans SP where wed park our trucks for the take out on Monday. Sipping the last of the hot coffee, Larry one of the nicest Rangers youll find anywhere came into camp and told us about the storm surging across South Carolina and would by early afternoon be on top of us. Winds, tornadoes warnings and watches, and winds over 60 mph across the areas it was hitting at that moment , it looked to be a paddlers night mare.
We have been I strong storms before, but to ponder on sitting along a swamp shore and wondering if trees would drop on us caused us to re-group and re-think the plan. Clearly we had been warned and it was clearer that we would be risking everything to head out on the river now with full blown weather forecasts. The better part of Valor today was to hunker down here in camp. So we went ahead and decided to stay in Edisto SP. We got one of the lots we had. But didnt want to un-pack with winds headed into the area. We kept our gear loaded. When the rains came, Jimmy and I headed into St. George and Dave headed home. Chuck stayed with is Jeep and my truck at the crossroads of 61 & 15 where no trees grew to fall down on us. The rains were putting a damper on a circus in St. George but not on our store skills. One laugh after another. Even grocery shopping had its humor. This brightened up the locals who wondered what the storm had brought into their fair town. In the rain we headed back to camp and found Chuck reclined in his Jeep. We drove back into camp and with a break in the rain set up our new campsite. And no sooner had we set up that the rains began anew. Heavy at times but we were snug as bugs in a rug. Coffee was drunk, brats were eaten with sauerkraut & buns.
food was great .... here Italian sausage and kraut Gadz were growing boys! Our waist lines were beginning to show an increase already. With now exercise to boot!
Night time and the sounds of the swamp enclosed us. Many birds were coming home to the their northern boundaries. Many more to continue north as spring has begun its course northward. Canadian hookers were driving north and their pleasant honking was appreciated by all below. Owls courted among the trees. I saw pleated woodpeckers, male and female. Squirrels jumped all around us.
and some wonder why green lights and aliens stories begin in the swamps ...
A four foot “worm
After saying goodbye to the wife , I headed to town to fill up with gas . Next I returned home which was on the rote south anyways and checked to see if I had the ropes I needed. By 05:25 I was west bound on my planned route. The day bloomed as predicted . A beautiful Carolina Blue sky was promised by the clear night sky. Cool but refreshing. My spirits were high as I headed south at Lumberton, NC on I-95. Two hours from there I would pull up in a very shady South Carolina, Coleton State Park to see a familiar Jeep with it new red cedar pirogue ( sans black bottom) on the trailer behind it. The high sheriff was inside a park office talking (?) to the park ranger. Karen. Chuck said he had toured the campsites and that two of them would serve our stay. Our plan had so far, been to camp and after meeting everyone, wed pull out for the river on Saturday morning.
The campsites were next to each other and very pretty. A swamp buffer separated us from the river and our tents.
My report separates into two reports here. One is about the river and the plans and how they had to change. The other report is about how we ate on this trip. Condemned men do not get this well of fare on their last day.
Chuck and I enjoyed the day by taking a trip down to the next state park , Givhans SP, some 15 miles down the road. This was to be our pull out on Monday morning. Turns out that the park is undergoing some road work. Lets say the one foot of sand needed something to keep it from blowing all over all the time! Plans were being changed already. Wed present the others with the scenario that wed pull out here but return to Coleton SP on Monday morning. The barren look of Givhans also endorsed our new plan.
Somewhere around 5 pm we looked up and saw Yaker pulling in. Smiles on our faces as we were glad the guy had found his way some 800 miles into this little piece of heaven. Fifteen minutes later Dave drove in. No boat on top his Jeep!!! He explained that he had to be back on Sunday , yet he came up to visit with us in camp. That was very great. At least to talk with him and allow him the privilege to be embarrassed by us !
So the night began. After Jimmy had rested, he pulled out some steaks that Paul Bunyon would have considered as large. I had the baked potatoes re-heating. They had been prepared the night before by my wife, Katie, and now were heating up anew on the fire grill. The camp was taking on a grand aroma .
Nest came the time to sit back and talk if one wished. And all wished to talk. Laughs began and never ended. Old tales were re-told. The new paddling plans were reviewed and Oked by the three of us who would paddle Saturday morning. I went to hit the Hennessey early. It had been a long day for me. But the others soon followed. The South Carolina adventure was to begin the next day.
The locals were more than nice. A small country store just outside the campgrounds declared egg bisques every morning beginning at 5:30 am. Soft drinks and a few other items were all that were on the shelves. But I did buy my fishing license there. Back down the road where I-95 and highway 61 crossed ( and where we all got off I-95) are three gas stations/store with one having a restaurant. Truckers know of this place by the local Cber at the helm in the store. Bags of ice were bought there . St George is ten miles north on highway 15. That road is the road off 61 that the camp ground is on. Everywhere is accessible from these two roads. The road to Givhans ( 61) was country and we noted that a public landing to the Edisto about half way between the two campgrounds was easily marked along the road. South Carolina was making paddling easier for travelers. Their prime rivers and lakes are now being marketed and you will meet many folks from all over the world around there. Yes, around the world. We met people from Europe Canadians next to us several nights were completive cane racers. Old geezers who followed the trails of competition that muscled their way up and down the river as fast as an electric motorized canoe could. One claimed that they run from 7 to 8 mph !
The two ladies at the corner grocery store thought me to young to flirt with but the high sheriff was primal meat. The sheriff hadnt lost his public image he had lost his youthful waist line.
Friday meals were bacon and eggs for breakfast, brats at noon, and home made spaghetti and sauce from Mrs. Dorazio ( Jimmies mom) . I have had the pleasure to have eaten this meal before in Virginia last fall when cold weather broke up the fall retreat in the Natahala River Gorge. It is to say breathlessly wonderful. The full aromas awaken the Italian in all of us. We all become bonded through the meal. No noises came from anyone while smacking our lips and gums tasting and lingering over each mouthful. Thats again and again Mrs. Dorazio for such wonder food! Boy we were roughing it eh?
Saturday morning came and we had the camp packed up. Dave was to bring us all back from Givhans SP where wed park our trucks for the take out on Monday. Sipping the last of the hot coffee, Larry one of the nicest Rangers youll find anywhere came into camp and told us about the storm surging across South Carolina and would by early afternoon be on top of us. Winds, tornadoes warnings and watches, and winds over 60 mph across the areas it was hitting at that moment , it looked to be a paddlers night mare.
We have been I strong storms before, but to ponder on sitting along a swamp shore and wondering if trees would drop on us caused us to re-group and re-think the plan. Clearly we had been warned and it was clearer that we would be risking everything to head out on the river now with full blown weather forecasts. The better part of Valor today was to hunker down here in camp. So we went ahead and decided to stay in Edisto SP. We got one of the lots we had. But didnt want to un-pack with winds headed into the area. We kept our gear loaded. When the rains came, Jimmy and I headed into St. George and Dave headed home. Chuck stayed with is Jeep and my truck at the crossroads of 61 & 15 where no trees grew to fall down on us. The rains were putting a damper on a circus in St. George but not on our store skills. One laugh after another. Even grocery shopping had its humor. This brightened up the locals who wondered what the storm had brought into their fair town. In the rain we headed back to camp and found Chuck reclined in his Jeep. We drove back into camp and with a break in the rain set up our new campsite. And no sooner had we set up that the rains began anew. Heavy at times but we were snug as bugs in a rug. Coffee was drunk, brats were eaten with sauerkraut & buns.
Night time and the sounds of the swamp enclosed us. Many birds were coming home to the their northern boundaries. Many more to continue north as spring has begun its course northward. Canadian hookers were driving north and their pleasant honking was appreciated by all below. Owls courted among the trees. I saw pleated woodpeckers, male and female. Squirrels jumped all around us.
A four foot “worm
