The Wateree River: Day 2
We left Jerry and myself sleeping fitfully under the I-20 Bridge over the Wateree, hoping that the river didn’t wake us unexpectedly in the night. When we awoke, just before dawn, the tent was still mercifully free of riverwater. But it sounded as though every semi east of the Mississippi was crossing the bridge above our weary heads.
Tuesday, May 19th
We emerged from the tent into the roar of fast-moving traffic on the freeway overhead. It was surprisingly chilly for mid-May. So I gathered more wood, lit a fire, and made a pot of coffee. Much of our stuff had gotten wet in yesterday’s fracas at the rapids. So as I drank coffee, I unpacked the wet clothes and camping gear and spread it dry. As the sun rose, it combined with the morning breeze to dry the riverwater out of our clothes. As I alternated between coffee-drinking and breaking down camp, Jerry picked up his fishing gear and tried his luck. I could hear him whooping over the sounds of the traffic, so I figured he was having a run of luck. But I had no idea just how big a run. It turns out he caught nineteen fish in all—a mix of striped bass, largemouth bass, and redeye bass. Unfortunately, none of them were of a size to fillet.
We got onto the river late, around 11 a.m. Jerry wasn’t feeling particularly well, so we decided to take it very easy. I paddled and drank a couple of early beers while Jerry rested a bit in the front. We passed towering—truly amazing—trees of the same varieties as yesterday, as well as many I didn’t recognize. I’d forgotten how different the view is from Southern rivers, as opposed to rivers out West where the vegetation tends to be sparser. We stopped for lunch on a sandbar below a big river house, but Jerry couldn’t eat anything and couldn’t even keep water down. So I downed a turkey sandwich and some chips, and we headed on downriver into the Betty Neck Swamp.
The current slowed and the river bent and meandered through thick vegetation on both sides. We saw great blue herons and bald eagles and an amazing variety of birdlife, but Jerry was in no shape to enjoy it. Around 4 p.m., I spotted a perfect campsite on a sandy slope on the left side of the river, about six feet above water level. So we pulled the canoe out of the river, and I set up a nice comfortable camp in the shelter of a lovely stand of sycamores and willows. I set the tent up first, and Jerry lay down for what we hoped would be a healing sleep. The campsite overlooked a bend in the river. The Wateree ran clear over a sandy bottom. A big riverhouse occupied the opposite bank, a little upriver; however, the stand of trees blocked the house from our view. The sandy bank ran about a quarter mile, backed by the swamp. There was plenty of firewood for the taking, and I laid in enough for a true bonfire in hopes that Jerry would recover enough to share it with me.
Sure enough, a little before sunset, Jerry awoke feeling better. He immediately hydrated—he hadn’t had any water since early morning—and that helped even more. So we were able to spend some time enjoying the fire and the perfect evening with a sky full of stars.
No Comments
No comments yet.
Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI
Leave a comment