Chasing the Coosawhatchie

I'm glad I'm a patient man when it comes to things I want to do. I wanted to find a creek and canoe it. Pretty simple plan.

The plan was based on all the creeks that we crossed over going to Athens on Rt. 15 earlier in the week. I figured any country road I travelled would be chock full of choices. Wrong-o. I headed out of Savannah (saw a gator smashed in the road by I-95) drove through Rincon, then Springfield. Took a road over the Savannah river into South Carolina. One canal so far. Not one creek. On through Estill, SC. Looking at the map, the Coosawhatchie River was the only option.

Found the bridge and pulled over. Just a gorgeous piece of water. Dragged the canoe down the bank and got in. Cooler and shotgun inside. There was a leafy overhang of tree branches that moving water was coming out on the other side of the railroad bridge so I figured that's where I should head upstream. Kind of like a front door. I pushed through the foliage and was inside a cypress swamp.

I think the term "river" is pushing it. It was more a shallow swamp that was draining. I tried to move through what I thought were defined channels and would get hung on stumps or deadfalls. One part had a cypress tree across the narrow channel with about a foot and a half of clearance. The canoe sits up when there is one person in it, so I couldn't get the head of the canoe underneath the tree trunk. I climbed out and straddled the tree trunk and pulled the canoe underneath then got back into it. I tried moving further through the swamp--but it was impossible. I thrashed and pushed and explored as much as I could, with those long-legged water spiders crawling over everything. It was beautiful though. I turned around and did the log thing again and went back through "front door" and back under the railway trestle.

Long whistle. Then the vibrations. The swallows nesting underneath the railroad bridge scattered. Old mud dauber nests crumbled a little with the vibrations. I sat under the bridge my hand on one of the pillars. The CSX train crashed overhead. It was deafening. I counted 75 rail cars.

So much of life is timing, isn't it? One second or minute one way or the other and you miss out on something or something misses you. Could be bad, could be good, but it is all in the timing of things. I've always loved trains and being that close to one was exciting. And a little scary. I went the other direction, downstream, under a sewage pipe and still the same thing happened. Insurmountable deadfalls. I could see the water seeping in a definite direction. I just couldn't get there. So I reversed and pulled out.

I wasn't done. I figured since the river wasn't passable there it might be further downstream. So off I went, bumping down country roads. Stopped at two other bridges and the "river" was even less passable than before. So I gave up on the Coosawhatchie and went after the Salkahatchie River. Found a perfect stretch of the river past Islandton, SC. I looked over the bridge and saw two gators basking in the shallow water. Hmmm. I looked on both sides of the bridge and couldn't find a place where I could drag the canoe down the bank. The bridge has piles of granite rocks around the base and it's pretty steep. No way for me to drag a 14 ft. canoe down it.

One more chance where the South Edisto fork runs into the Salkahatchie. Found it and the SC Highway Department was building a road and a bridge right over what I needed. I was done. So I turned around and headed back for home. Still trying country roads. Even went down a dirt road called Jonas Road because it seemed close to the Salkahatchie (which means Salt Catcher). Two deer bounded right out in front of my truck as I was bouncing down the dirt road. Saw a Hispanic family by their trailer--the man looked very Pedro-like. I passed them by before they could entertain the idea that I might be an Immigration agent.

Singing to the radio on the way home. My little road exited onto I-95. And so there I was with 8 billion people heading south. And yeah, I was a little pissed. I knew I-95 crossed over the Coosawhatchie and I thought I was going to be mocked as I passed it since you can't put in on I-95 unless you want to be arrested or run over. I saw the Coosawhatchie and you know what else I saw as I passed over it? Up river about 200 yards I saw a another road crossing over it. Ah-Ha! I pulled off at the next exit and went back on Rt. 462 and there was a sign that said, "Salt Water/Fresh Water Dividing Line". I got out and surveyed the situation and figured I could put in on the northeast side of the river. When you look at the picture, where I put in is on the other side of the road from the bike. You can see the railroad trestle in this pic too:

I figured to paddle upstream so I could float back down easily. But down here, the Coosawhatchie is effected by the tides and the tide was incoming so my plan was reversed. I would float upstream and paddle back.

Gentle current. Unspoiled scenery. I passed by a bent, gnarled cypress with an eagle's nest hanging out over the river. I meandered along wondering where the salt marsh part of the Coosawhatchie turned into the freshwater part because it sure wasn't where that sign said it was. Finally, around a bend, I came to a huge tree completely covering the channel. I just didn't have the energy to figure out how to get around it. Plus it was after 4:00, I was boiling hot, and knew I had at least a mile or so of against the current paddling to do. So I turned back.

On the way back, I saw a pine log floating directly at me. As I neared it, I could see it would be a pretty good bump if it hit me. So I put my paddle out and pushed it away from me. I turned a little to my right in pushing it and watched it as it moved away--I heard a big splash and I felt the head of my canoe get slapped on the right side, hard enough to move the direction I was going by about 3 feet to the left. Damn! My heart jumped into my throat and I looked around trying to see what it was. I eased my Snake-Charmer from behind me and loaded a round. Only thing, this wasn't any damned snake. Fifteen feet further up the river and I saw on the left bank an area where the marsh grass was flattened down and dripping with water. Definitely not a snake lair. I knew what this was. And so I paddled back to the put-in, very wary of what was around me and underneath me.

I was treated to one more CSX showing as I neared the railroad trestle. Not as many cars this time, most of them being brown UPS cars. Didn't even know they had brown railroad cars.

Getting out, my leg slipped in almost up to my hip and I was acutely aware of being dinner. But I had to get over that since my canoe was floating down the Coosawhatchie toward the Atlantic. I grabbed the rope and hauled it back. No biggie. Yeah, I was exhausted. Hot and thirsty too. But really, it was a perfect day. A man, a canoe, a shotgun, and a truck. There aren't any better Saturday recipes.