Blog#23-South Carolina

Blog#22 From Georgia to South Carolina

Anhinga in flight

Young Double-Crested Cormorant

Myrtle Warbler–try to disprove that

I left Savannah and drove north to Edisto Beach State Park, South Carolina (in the Charleston area). Stopped and replaced a wiper blade and then made a short detour into the Savannah National Wildlife Refuge. The wind was steadily blowing the entire drive—to the point that I had to keep both hands on the wheel. And that not only makes me tense, it also interferes with being able to eat trail mix in the car. I arrived at the campground earlier than I thought I would—that has been happening often on this trip. When I did my homework, I timed my driving based on Distance Between Cities. However, when I use Google Maps, the times are shortened significantly. It must be that Google can see traffic and congestion, and routes me around it. Around and under and over and through. Driving through the South is very unlike driving up North. SR routes, Farm to Market Roads, etc., etc. It feels like I’m being directed in big squares, leaving this highway to travel through little villages and then back on the same highway. Weird, but it’s apparently faster this way.

I had checked the tides and the low was at ~5:25 PM. When I arrived at Edisto, I learned that I had mistakenly reserved and paid for a rustic camp site without electricity or water. And it was a walk-in site. That was a problem, since I have no tent.

I was able to get a more improved site, but for only one night. I was okay with that, because the wind would not stop and it was cold. It was also wreaking havoc with my nerves, worrying about hail, (and tornados, I admit). The reason I had chosen Edisto was that it was the closest campground I could find to Kiawah Island, where the dolphins strand hunt. ( I saw it on Oceans, or Blue Planet, or Planet Earth or in a dream. Somewhere. Anyway, it happens just before low tide. The dolphins, working as a team, push shoals of fish up onto the muddy/sand banks of the river and then beach themselves with them to feed. Then they slide back into the water.)

I had time, so I drove the 2 hours north (according to Distance Between Cities), which really only took 1.25 hours. I went to Beachwalker Park—the only beach access I could find on this hoighty toighty island that is home of the PGA championship. The homeowners out there by the Kiawah River have the river and oceanfront sewn up tight. Hogging the dolphins all to themselves.

I spoke with the park rangers and was told it was about 1.5 miles from the end of the boardwalk to the river mouth where the dolphins are frequently seen working. No problem, I had time. I put on my Columbia rain jacket with the hood pulled tight around my face and left my sunglasses on to break the wind. Grabbed the camera and the binocs and set off.

I snuck across the dunes where the signs say access the beach from the boardwalk—I wanted to get to the river and not walk 1.5 miles away from the river and maybe miss the dolphins along the way. I saw a lot of deer sign on the dunes, and learned how different the dunes are here. The bushes growing out in the South Carolina dunes have thorns. And stickers. And there are prickly pears, too. Traipsing across them is no easy feat. I gathered some burrs on my socks and some snags on my pant legs and made it to the river. No dolphins observed. I decided to just go along the beach on hard-packed sand to the river mouth, because I couldn’t follow the river through those dunes.

Once out of the briars I was also out of the protection from the wind. After ten minutes of being sandblasted, being a Clever American Woman, it occurred to me that sand may not be good for my camera and binocs. And examining them, I could already see grains on the lenses. Stupid American Woman. I made the tactical decision to put binocs and camera inside my coat and abort the mission. I only drove 6200 miles to see those feckin dolphins. (Learned that in Ireland)

The sand is blowing about three feet off the ground. Lovely day.

I trudged back to the park office. I asked the girls there if there was any other spot that I was allowed to go (public access, you know) to see the dolphins.  They said back at the bridge or, hey, in their parking lot. Duh.
I went out to the parking lot and scanned the river. I saw a dorsal fin. Hot dog. I waited. And waited. And waited.

Okay, I had 90 minutes until low tide. I drove back to the bridge—saw something flying that I swear looked like a penguin disappear into the grasses-but no dolphins. I went back to the park. I saw another dorsal fin. But never two, and never did I see the dolphins strand hunt…But my face was exfoliated for free.

I returned to Edisto and found a little pizza place that makes buffalo wings. Sadly, their dining area was open air and it was freezing. So I took the 10 wings and a caesar salad to my car. The ladies in the shop were worried about me being cold in my car, but I assured them that I am not. My husband, who can live for years in the camp he sets, insisted that I bring the 6 lb Cabelas sleeping bag with me. Smart man, and I am very grateful tonight for his insistence.

The salad was quite good. The wings had a different smell to them—the buffalo sauce recipe, I hope. I ate 4 and threw 6 away. Couldn’t get past that smell. I snuggled up in my bed, now grateful for the cool and the wind that kept my camp bugfree. I picked up a book at one of the parks along the way, a take-one-leave-one kind of thing in the Okefenokee. I took one and down the road, I’ll leave it, because it is terrible reading and I can’t suffer through it. I’m worried about using up all my flashlight power. It’s one of those new kind—no batteries to replace. If I have electricity in my camps, I should buy a cheap clip-on lamp. Maybe tomorrow..