As a feature writer, I sometimes get to step beyond the bounds of the newsroom and do something a little out of the ordinary.
I get to take part in a lot of enjoyable activities, and sometimes I even learn something. This past Saturday was no exception.
My friends would probably say that I am one of the least “outdoorsy” people they know, but I wasn’t always that way.
My parents were campers, and I spent hundreds of my childhood weekends in West Virginia, Ohio and Kentucky state parks.
I hiked, canoed, swam in lakes and rivers and roasted marshmallows with the best of them.
Now I realize what I’ve been missing.
Invited by Steve Smith, site manager for the Fort King George Historic Site in Darien, I set out Saturday morning on a two-hour paddle trip on parts of the Altamaha River in McIntosh County.
Staff at Fort King George conduct canoe trips to various spots about once a month.
Smith and I were in the lead canoe, and 10 other folks, in five canoes, followed.
The morning began by checking in at Fort King George, receiving some quick instruction, picking out a life jacket, loading up in a 12-passenger van, and taking about a 20-minute ride to a boat landing in Cox.
Heading north along a fork of the mighty Altamaha, Smith explained to our group of mostly married couples near retirement age, that the easy trip would take us past ancient cypress trees and into a Tupelo swamp.
With such a small group, conversation was easy.
Some of our comrades were veteran canoeists, others not so much.
I probably fell somewhere in the middle – with the last canoeing I did occurring about 16 years ago.
As we set out toward Fort Barrington, at the entrance to Barrington Lake – which is not really a lake, but an ancient path of the river – Smith explained that Fort Barrington had been a Revolutionary War outpost and was situated along an old stagecoach route that traveled into North Florida. The old road is clearly visible from the north side of the river, but the south side is overgrown, and the roadway is undetectable.
Paddling upriver was easy and unimpeded by the tide, which is not a factor this far inland. There was a fairly swift current at one point of the trip that we had to row against, but except for that, it was smooth sailing. And, because we were not on the main branch of the Altamaha, we saw no jet-skiers and only a few pleasure-boaters in the distance. Our only face-to-face encounters were with fishermen, who wanted the water to be as still as we did.
The slow pace allowed everyone to get close-up looks of towering Tupelo trees and humongous cypress trees that, in Smith’s estimation, are about 500 years old.
My main concern this trip was what kind of chance a canoeist stood if she should happen upon an alligator. Fortunately for us, we didn’t have to find out.
Most people here know that the Altamaha River Basin is chock-full of the carnivorous crocodilians, but none were visible on Saturday.
Not that there was any shortage of wildlife – plenty of fish were jumping, particularly in the shadier parts of the river, and we saw several large birds.
Towards the end of the trip, we got out of our boats and rested atop a high sandy bluff, that, Smith said, scientists believe was part of the original Atlantic coastline.
After taking the boats out of the water at the Cox landing, members of the group agreed that they would have made the trip again.
It’s just that much fun. Who knew?
I get to take part in a lot of enjoyable activities, and sometimes I even learn something. This past Saturday was no exception.
My friends would probably say that I am one of the least “outdoorsy” people they know, but I wasn’t always that way.
My parents were campers, and I spent hundreds of my childhood weekends in West Virginia, Ohio and Kentucky state parks.
I hiked, canoed, swam in lakes and rivers and roasted marshmallows with the best of them.
Now I realize what I’ve been missing.
Invited by Steve Smith, site manager for the Fort King George Historic Site in Darien, I set out Saturday morning on a two-hour paddle trip on parts of the Altamaha River in McIntosh County.
Staff at Fort King George conduct canoe trips to various spots about once a month.
Smith and I were in the lead canoe, and 10 other folks, in five canoes, followed.
The morning began by checking in at Fort King George, receiving some quick instruction, picking out a life jacket, loading up in a 12-passenger van, and taking about a 20-minute ride to a boat landing in Cox.
Heading north along a fork of the mighty Altamaha, Smith explained to our group of mostly married couples near retirement age, that the easy trip would take us past ancient cypress trees and into a Tupelo swamp.
With such a small group, conversation was easy.
Some of our comrades were veteran canoeists, others not so much.
I probably fell somewhere in the middle – with the last canoeing I did occurring about 16 years ago.
As we set out toward Fort Barrington, at the entrance to Barrington Lake – which is not really a lake, but an ancient path of the river – Smith explained that Fort Barrington had been a Revolutionary War outpost and was situated along an old stagecoach route that traveled into North Florida. The old road is clearly visible from the north side of the river, but the south side is overgrown, and the roadway is undetectable.
Paddling upriver was easy and unimpeded by the tide, which is not a factor this far inland. There was a fairly swift current at one point of the trip that we had to row against, but except for that, it was smooth sailing. And, because we were not on the main branch of the Altamaha, we saw no jet-skiers and only a few pleasure-boaters in the distance. Our only face-to-face encounters were with fishermen, who wanted the water to be as still as we did.
The slow pace allowed everyone to get close-up looks of towering Tupelo trees and humongous cypress trees that, in Smith’s estimation, are about 500 years old.
My main concern this trip was what kind of chance a canoeist stood if she should happen upon an alligator. Fortunately for us, we didn’t have to find out.
Most people here know that the Altamaha River Basin is chock-full of the carnivorous crocodilians, but none were visible on Saturday.
Not that there was any shortage of wildlife – plenty of fish were jumping, particularly in the shadier parts of the river, and we saw several large birds.
Towards the end of the trip, we got out of our boats and rested atop a high sandy bluff, that, Smith said, scientists believe was part of the original Atlantic coastline.
After taking the boats out of the water at the Cox landing, members of the group agreed that they would have made the trip again.
It’s just that much fun. Who knew?
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