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Cumberland Island National Seashore Day 2 ~ One Really Long Day ~ "Continued" [ Home ] [ USA-International Travel ] [ Southeast Travel ] [ Favorite Sunsets ] [ Content ] CI Home Page Day 1-Road Trip Day 2-Long Day AM Day 3-To the Settlement Day 4-Stafford Beach Day 5-Home CI Photo Gallery
Thursday, February 20, 2003
Afternoon Outside the NPS office, we struggled for a moment to orient ourselves. Actually my “no sense of direction” may have thrown us off, but I take no credit. The area around the office included a series of intersecting trail and roads. Will, John and I started hiking on the Parallel Trail (PT), while Barbara, Ray and Steve lagged behind. The sand that I expected to be underfoot was not sand at all but deep brown soil from which, a rich, heavy humus smell permeated the air around me. I have only dreamed about hiking on trails as flat at the PT and I felt a spring in my step and a thrill to be on the island. We quickly entered a magical maritime forest. Old oak trees were the first vegetation that caught our attention. Years of battering from the wind and weather have caused the oak branches to twist toward the ground. These gnarled ancient oaks have taken on the appearance of old men bent over their canes. Spanish moss dripped from the branches and Palmetto bushes mingled among the trunks. As I hiked in this unusual forest, it was hard to believe that the Cumberland Sound lay a mile or so to the west and the Atlantic Ocean less than a mile to the east. Gnarled oaks in the Cumberland Island maritime forest
John, Will and I continued north on the PT. As we settled into our hiking rhythm, we discussed the distant rumble that disturbed an otherwise very quiet island. We hiked on the PT for about a mile then took a right turn on a sandy island road that, according to our map, led to Little Greyfield Beach and the Atlantic Ocean. We encountered two sets of dunes on our way to the Atlantic. The first set of dunes (much higher than the second) acts as a protective barrier for the inner island. Between the two sets we encountered the “inner dune meadow”, which is a flat area of sand, sea oats and other types of vegetation. As we crested the second, lower set of dunes, which serve as the first line of defense against the weather, we caught our first glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean. WOW! The vastness of the ocean always takes my breath away but this was a heart stopper. We were experiencing the Atlantic in its wildest glory …no hotels, restaurants, condos, houses, shops, fishing piers and NO tourists. Just us, grey sky, sand, sea grass and ocean as far as the eye could see. We also discovered something else; the rumbling noise we heard in the forest was the muffled sound of waves crashing against the shore. The
whole experience is forever etched in my memory, hiking in the sand; listening
to the pounding waves and watching sandpipers dance at the water’s edge. Sea
gulls serenaded us from above. We could smell the ocean and taste the salt
water. I am sure I did an “I can’t believe I am at the beach” jig at this
point. As we continued hiking north along the beach we stopped often to look at
the hundreds of seashells and occasional jellyfish, bounty swept in by the
ocean’s waves. We marveled over and over at how lucky we were to be backpacking
along the eastern shore and just how glad we were to be at this place, in this
moment.
Will
hiking along the beach We hadn’t been on the beach too long when civilization came barreling toward us in the form of a pickup truck. The truck bed was lined with teakwood lawn benches and the benches were lined with 8 tourists…ladies in sunhats and men in polo shirts. They waved and we waved back. We must have looked like wildlife to them; they certainly looked like alien intruders to us. We later learned that Greyfield Inn uses pickup trucks to transport their guests along the beach, through national park property to the Settlement at the northern end of the island. Island residents are also allowed to drive on the beach. At the Stafford Beach marker we climbed back over the barrier dunes to return to the PT. As we passed through the Stafford Beach campground, I had my first of many armadillo encounters. I heard rustling leaves on the ground and jumped with surprise. I spotted the armadillo about the same time that he spotted me. I must have spooked him because he jumped too, all four little pink feet left the ground. An armadillo is certainly a creature that only an armadillo mother can love, but those little pink feet sure are cute! Armadillo hunting for lunch at Stafford Beach campsite
We encountered only one couple at the campsite. They relayed to us a story from the night before about the “Hoods in the Woods.” Apparently a heavily supervised group of young male juvenile delinquents (aged 10-13) were camped at Stafford Beach. One of the boys lost control and cussed at the top of his lungs for well over an hour. The counselors finally tied him to a tree and duck taped his mouth. They left him tied up until he could gain control of himself. Glad we saw this group catching the ferry out this morning! We hiked past Hickory Hills campsite about 4:30 p.m. Three hours and 5.5-miles had passed since we started our adventure at Sea Dock. We still had 2-miles to go. John and I caught up with Will at a trail junction and found him totally confused. The map and the trail signs did not match. The map indicated that we should continue straight ahead, the trail sign indicated that we should turn to the right. John and Will conferred then went in separate directions to scout the trails. Neither come back with anything definitive. John pulled out his compass and the guys oriented the map. In the end, we decide to follow the signs; the map must be off. Less than a mile from Yankee Paradise, we came upon the “official” water source for the campsite. Actually we could smell it before we saw it. The odor of rotten eggs permeated the air. The water source consisted up a couple of faucets tapped into a well. There was no pump but plenty of very smelly, sulfuric water. The volunteers at the park service office had told us about a water source around Plum Orchard that was not sulfuric so we moved on without filling our water bottles. We hiked another .3-mile to Yankee Paradise Camp. Steve and Ray were already there but Barbara was nowhere in sight and no one knew where she was. We shook off a feeling of discomfort and decided to give her more time. Barbara is a very experienced backpacker and we felt she would show up. Our biggest concern was that she might take the wrong turn at the trail junction. We walked around the campsite. It was a large with two areas separated by trees for camping. The campsite was surrounded with the same type of gnarled live oaks, branches hanging low. There were a couple of tents already set up but we had plenty of space for our tents. EveningBarbara arrived about 40 minutes behind the rest of us. She had stopped for a last chance in the ladies room and had fallen behind. Steve and I followed Ray to Plum Orchard to get water while John, Barbara and Will stayed behind to set up camp. My every step was painful and the trip seemed incredibly long but we really needed water. Hard to believe how difficult it is to hike on a flat surface! Plum Orchard is quite a sight. The mansion was built by Lucy Carnegie for one of her children. When we arrived, Ray was inside getting water in of the kitchen. "After all," he told us, "the back door was open." A lady living in the house came downstairs when she heard Ray and talked to him for a minute or two. We later learned that she was one of several biologists living at the house. Steve and I located the outdoor potable water faucet and filled every container we bought with us. We did a bit of looking around but were really too tired to do much. Ray, Steve and I walked back to camp, switching water vessels between us in an effort to lighten the load. Our tent at Yankee Paradise, fog settles in
Fog
settled in around our tents as the sun went down. Two tents besides ours
were set up in the campsite. We gathered around our kitchen area and prepared
dinner by the light of Steve’s lantern and with the aid of our headlamps. I
went back to the tent to “clean up” and change clothes. I could hear bits
of a
conversation in the kitchen area with new voices so I hurried out to see
what was going on. A young couple named Joshua and Catherine
were camping near Will’s tent and Barbara had engaged them in conversation.
As happens with
most backpacking conversations, the topic turned to places and people on
prior trips. This conversation involved our 2001 trip to the Gates of the
Artic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska. On this trip we met a backpacker named Rob Fissel who is the same guy that this couple had met hiking the AT
in the fall of 2002. They hiked with Rob for several months and he told
them about some people he met in the Gates who were from Knoxville. He
thought the Knoxvillians were friendly and very competent backpackers. The group also
fed him. The group from Knoxville was, of course, us (Barbara, John,
Will, our missing friend Duane and me). What a small world to have had
this conversation on a tiny island off the coast of Georgia.
Ray and Will
fixing dinner at Yankee Paradise After chatting for a while, we headed off to bed. As you can tell from reading this story, it had been a very long day and we were all really tired!
Day 2 AM ~ Part One of a Really Long Day Day 3~To the Settlement and Back, My Poor Aching Feet! Cumberland Island Photo Gallery
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