National Trail Day

Lagoon Access Recreation Trail

I have been on the Atlantic Coast for about a week, taking a much needed break away from work. St. Helena Island, SC is my regular destination (near Beaufort and Port Royal), and this decision is easily arrived at due to my folks owning a small home about seven miles from the beach. Without them, and the free lodging, I couldn't afford to spend a week in the Low Country if I had to pay for a hotel room. Of course, there's camping that would be a cheaper alternative to a hotel, but this area is rife with biting insects and oppressively hot and humid air, if the breeze isn't blowing.

The time I spend here is filled with more walking than normal. With no dog door here, it is necessary to take them out a few times during the day so that they may do their business. They are so excited to be here as well as their walks are obviously filled with a buffet of "other dog" smells that are new; every tree, bush and spot of grass has been a stopping point for the others where they, like my dogs, engage in marking territory. This urge must come from some left-over,  pre-historic DNA from when they were wolves that actually had territory. I find it all very annoying as they have to stop and sniff every little thing they come across. It makes for a herky-jerky, stop and go walk.

St. Helena Island is a place with a rich and storied history. It was the area where the Spanish and French colonists tried to establish a foothold in the Americas, long before the English arrived. When the English did arrive, they brought with them slaves from West Africa. It was the slaves that performed the back-breaking labor, and died by the thousands in the malaria-ridden fields growing sea cotton, indigo, and rice. Their descendents are the Gullah people that still live in this area. Every trip I try to make it a point to find or learn something new about Beaufort County.

Yesterday was National Trail so I decided to take part by taking on one of the trails in the Hunting Island State Park trail system.  I had heard that there was a pair of Bald Eagles hanging out on the south end of the island and decided to try to catch a glimpse if I could. The south end of the island is disappearing due to the normal shifting of the sand that occurs on barrier islands. Having been coming here since I was a kid ('79 or '80) it is sad to see the cabins eroded away, along with hundreds of trees, all being battered and swept away with each high tide.

Old Cabin Road

As I made my way from the fishing pier parking lot through the Maritime Forest, I was thankful for the slight breeze that kept away the biting midges (also known as No-see Ums) and mosquitoes. I walked the foot bridge that crosses over the lagoon and headed into the area where the last remnants of the cabins exists. I found several nesting Ospreys, but no Bald Eagle was to be seen.  

 Walking north on the shoreline always makes me feel like I am in the last scene on the beach from the 1968 version of Planet of the Apes. So much destruction and desolation being buried in the sand, soon to be lost to the water.

Completing the trek north along the shore and over the head of the lagoon, I cross out of the burning sun and back into the much needed shade of the maritime forest. From here it's simply back south along the western side of the lagoon, along the way spotting a couple of white-tailed deer, some squirrels, and plenty of wading birds, among others that I have already listed. The forest with its mixture of flora, from Live Oaks draped with Spanish Moss, to the Wax Myrtle, and abundant Palmetto trees, is a feast for the eyes. Certainly much different from the Hardwood Forest in which I normally hike.

About 5 1/2 miles later, I arrive back at the car, soaked with sweat, and feel the tightness of my skin from it's exposure to the sun and salt air. It may not be as challenging as an Appalachian Mountain trail, but is every bit as enjoyable. Go out and find a trail near you, and do some head clearing!

http://www.southcarolinaparks.com/files/State%20Parks%20Files/Hunting%20Island/HI_trailmap.pdf.
 

Life

I'm surprised that this blog hasn't been terminated due to lack of activity. I can't believe that it's been over a year since my last post on here. Since then, I have started a new job that requires me to travel extensively throughout the week. Most days I spend about 2 1/2 hours commuting in my car to various locations across Northeast Georgia. The only positive thing about this is that I get to travel  through some of the most beautiful scenery in the Southeastern U.S. Although, my brakes and tires have suffered since last July, burdening me with a couple of extra expenses in replacements for both.

I think about moving back to the south side of the Blue Ridge to lessen the time spent driving, but every time I cross over the gaps at Neel's, Hogpen, Davis, or Unicoi, I roll down my windows just to stick my arm out and feel the air temperature drop in relation to the rise in elevation; let my eyes soak in the lush, green grass, hardwoods mixed with rhododendron and laurel; gaze upon the clear flowing rocky streams and wonder at the trout, river otter, and hellbenders that live there; and I am glad to be back and hope to always have a home in the mountains. 

I walk my dogs a few times/week and continue to take them on our approximately three-mile loop hike on the Miller Trek Trail behind Brasstown Valley Resort. Barely enough to keep the rust at bay, but not enough to keep them, or me happy. I could list all the excuses and all the pains in the world as to why I haven't added to my list of peaks bagged in a couple of years, but in the end, for me, there are no good excuses. I let the prime peak bagging season of winter pass by without taking the summit of some mountain on a list.

In the meantime, my eating habits haven't changed much, and anyone that has a lick of sense knows what happens when you cut back on your rate of physical activity while eating the same amount of calories. I call it ballooning. I entered a vicious cycle of knee pain, less activity, weight gain, more knee pain...etc. This past winter, I found myself actually afraid of bushwhacking to a summit, mostly due to the unsteady footing that lies beneath the layer of leaves that drops every fall; afraid that I will misstep and hyperextend my knee, somewhere with steep terrain a mile from the nearest trail, somewhere that would take a gargantuan effort on behalf of myself, or a rescue squad to haul my ass out of the woods.  The only thing that is going to cure this is a great amount of weight loss. 

In 2006, I was proud of myself for being able to hike up the Tuckerman Ravine Trail from Pinkham Notch up to the summit of Mount Washington in New Hampshire...at 301 lbs. Add another 50 to that over the last 7 years and that's what I'm dealing with. Yes, I'm tall and at 6'4" most people don't believe that I weigh that much, but I can assure you that my bones know it to be true.

So, with my 47th birthday a week behind me, I am going to turn up the heat on my effort to lose some lbs, start feeling more comfortable with going off-trail, and start adding to my lists. It scares me to think that if I don't change my lifestyle, physically I may never be able to get deep into the hills again.

Alright, enough of that. The past year has brought some new birds to my list, including most recently a Rose-breasted Grosbeak, the wonderfully hooded Bufflehead, as well as the Painted Bunting. I am not out looking for birds nearly as much as I'd like either...as you can tell with only three new sightings in a year.

My goals for the next year will include attaining the summit of five new peaks, and adding 10 birds to my list, while dropping below 300lbs. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.