Three years ago, Christy and I joined Myron, Dorcas, Wayne, Linda, and others for an overnight canoe trip on the Black River. We really enjoyed it, and have been wanting to try paddling again. We don't actually have a canoe though, which makes things a little more difficult. Myron has several though, and one he's interested in selling. They invited us on their latest trip and he gave us the opportunity to try out his canoe. It had never been in the water before, so he was leery about letting us break it in. Somehow though we talked him into it.
This trip took us to the Edisto River in the swamps of eastern South Carolina. It was an early morning for Myron, Dorcas, Wayne, and Linda as they met Christy, Dave, and me in south Charlotte. From there we journeyed through Columbia and Orangeburg before reaching the put-in for the south fork at the 301 bridge. We unloaded everything, and Christy and Wayne left to run the shuttle.
They were gone for a long time. We expected them to return in 30 or 40 minutes. After an hour we began to worry. Finally Christy's car pulled back into the parking lot. It had been quite an adventure. They finally found a landing where they left Wayne's truck and the trailer. Oddly though, the landing wasn't on the river. Instead it was by a swampy pond, some distance from the river itself. This was disturbing, because the guidebook only stated that the takeout was on the right side of the river. It didn't mention anything about paddling through swamps or ponds to reach it. However, we knew that the information in the "guidebook" was highly suspect. The book showed two maps of the area. The two maps didn't agree with each other. Worse yet, they were both wrong. As we prepared to launch, we were very concerned about finding the takeout. Well, we figured we'd get out somewhere Sunday afternoon. Hopefully the truck will be there.
We put in and began the float downstream. It had been 3 years since we had canoed, and Christy and I were very rusty. We warmed up by running into the highway bridge. Myron cringed. It took awhile, but we gradually relearned how to control the boat.
At the highway we met some rangers. We asked them about the takeout, and they confirmed that we were parked in the right place. Was the takeout easy to find? Their answer, simply enough, was no. They told us to look for a tributary on the right, after passing under power lines. Oh boy. We were on our own.
On our own is exactly what we were. We didn't see another canoe all day. The first couple of miles were in a nice swampy forest of cypress and tupelo. In terms of scenery it may have been the best part of the trip. We had put in a little before noon, so we stopped along the way for lunch. We didn't linger long though. We were behind schedule and we needed to get down river.
The first few miles weren't without some challenges. The first was a series of fallen trees. The experienced paddlers picked there way through without much trouble. It was a different story for Christy and I though. The current was surprisingly strong, and we really had to fight to position the boat properly. There was a lot of branch grabbing and pulling, but somehow we got through without flipping the boat or getting knocked out. Dave was in his inflatable canoe, so he had to be extra careful of sharp limbs. He worked his way through without too much trouble.
After a few miles we passed under a bridge and then through a section with numerous houses. The rest of the trip followed a similar pattern. There would be a mile of swampy forest that was virtually pure wilderness, then a section with some houses. Our hope was that we'd find a nice place to camp far from the nearest home.
That afternoon brought a couple more challenges. The first was another fallen tree. This one was in a bend, and the current was very strong to the outside. Unfortunately the only opening was to the inside. We had a terrible time trying to keep from being swept into the strainer. We began to panic, which didn't help. Finally we were able to battle the current and get the boat turned enough to get through. It wasn't graceful, but it was a lot better than swimming. That water was still very cold!
Later we came to some more blowdowns. This time, at Myron's recommendation, we decided to portage. We had to wade through swamp mud to do it, but it was probably the right decision.
By 4pm we began to look for a campsite. We hadn't seen much dry ground, but the low water level was helpful. A little after 4 Wayne spotted a promising area. It was inside a bend in the river, and would probably be an island at higher water. It was a big, flat, open area of cypress trees, and just dry enough for camping. We got out and unloaded, and spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the forest and reflecting on the first day.
It had been a great day for wildlife. Most notable were the birds, including ducks, herons, warblers, an owl, and I think an egret. There may have been an osprey sighting as well. Dave had seen an alligator in the river, but everyone else missed it. Wayne had seen the first snake of the year, and everyone had spotted numerous turtles. Deer were also present. That evening, and the next morning, we listened to owls, woodpeckers, and even a beaver slapping his tail on the water.
We had a very relaxing evening around the campfire. We grilled steaks and corn on the cob, and consumed a fair amount of beer. By 9 I couldn't believe how tired I was. I had expected a leisurely trip (at least compared to hiking), but it was apparent that I had done something that day.
We got up early Sunday morning. Christy and I enjoyed eggs and sausage. Myron and Dorcas shared their world-famous breakfast rolls. Then, it was back on the river. Sunday's paddling was much easier than the prior day's. Christy and I were more comfortable and confident, which helped us handle the few challenges the river presented.
By late morning we were seeing more houses. Then, we reached the confluence with the north fork at a large house complete with a large mill wheel. From there we floated downstream to a nice sandy beach. We pulled in for lunch. Once again though, we couldn't linger very long. We were still concerned about finding the takeout.
We floated under the 78 bridge. The guidebook claimed that it was a mile and a half to the takeout. We started looking after 20 minutes, but nothing presented itself. Myron and Dorcas did explore one tributary, but it was a dead end. After another 20 minutes we encountered some fishermen in a power boat. They told us it was another 1 mile downstream, and to look for a black and white exit sign on a tree. We had been a couple of miles past 78 already, so the guidebook was clearly wrong with its distances.
We arrived at the exit sign an hour beyond 78. It was at a tributary, but the sign said "to exit" and pointed down river. That seemed odd, but maybe it meant that the takeout was a little farther down? We continued downstream, but found no other possible exits. A few minutes later we came to a house and hailed the owner. The takeout was back upstream, at the sign. Apparently it was pointing the wrong way. We could have paddled upstream, but it would've been tough. Instead, the owner graciously invited us to take out through his property. The truck was just up the road, and Wayne was back in a couple of minutes.
It had been a good trip. The upper portion of the river, before the confluence, was the best part. The main river was wider and less swampy. There were also lots of powerboats farther downstream. We'd like to go back, though we'll probably be inclined to stick with the upper river. However, those areas are more challenging, so Christy and I will need to work on our skills first. Of course, to do that, we'll need a canoe. We shouldn't, but we're probably going to buy Myron's anyway. What the heck? You can't go hiking every weekend, right? I think it'll be nice to have other alternatives for weekend recreation.
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