Day 27, Saturday, February 16, On to Charleston

  

I was checked out of that crappy Quality Inn (hmph, some quality that was) and on the road by 8:40 a.m. The skies were sunny with pale clouds, the temperature was 47 degrees and the odometer read 15739.9. I was glad to leave Hardee, S.C. behind; not a place I ever want to return to.

Rte. 17 merged with Rte. 95 and when the highways split again, there was a Visitor Center at Frampton Plantation; (not Peter.) This place had some gorgeous live oak trees of which I took photos. Inside, it was set up more as a gift shop with the rooms crammed with stuff. It felt stuffy to me. The ladies behind the counter were in a deep conversation and although one said the usual, “If we can answer any of your questions…” I felt I was intruding. I did a quick look see and it was the usual tourist items. I went back outside and took a few more photos.

They did have a hotel coupon book and I sat in the truck, where it was warmer, and spent some time deciding where to stay for a couple days. Do I go back to the Comfort Suites West of the Ashley? It’s familiar and I liked it or do I stay in North Charleston? I couldn’t decide then and was leaning towards the familiar and not being right in the city. I left Frampton Plantation at 9:48 a.m.

Check in time at most hotels is 3 p.m. I figured I might be able to finagle a room earlier, but felt I at least needed to wait until 2 p.m. I could probably find places along the way to visit to kill some time.

Continuing north, I saw one of the brown signs that indicated a point of interest. This sign had a pair of binoculars and said wildlife. Okay, let’s see where that goes. I drove and drove and wondered if I was ever going to reach the end. I did see some turkeys. I reached a marshy area where some vultures had a Styrofoam to-go box. It seemed funny to see that out in the middle of nowhere. I tried to get photos of the birds flying off. The road continued on and there wasn’t any indication that it was leading any where spectacular. I turned around.

At 10:45 a.m., I came to the Edisto WMA and pulled in. This was a nature trail with narrow boardwalks over the wet areas. There was a sign that said surveillance cameras were in use along the trails. I thought that odd. I put on my sweater, slung the camera over my shoulder, grabbed my walking stick and headed off. A little further in was a mailbox with a map of the trails. This gave me good information about the area.

It was noted that these trails were original ones used by British troops between Savannah and Charleston. Looking around at the underbrush, the wet lands, and dense bushes I couldn’t imagine blazing a trail through this. It must have been extremely difficult for those people and if it was summer with mosquitoes, alligators, snakes, and other nasties, it had to have been horrendous. I was out here all alone only hearing a few bird calls in the trees. I tried to picture what it must have been like for those early peoples. I would not want to be in a place like this in the summer when the humidity was atrocious and would bring out all kinds of terrors from the tiny no see-ums to the ones not seen until too late.

I finished that trail and it was just about noon. The next wild life place I found was Caw Caw Interpretative Center. This cost $1 to walk the trails. The temperature had risen to 53 degrees. I got a map in the gift shop and headed out. I am a lover of maps, but somehow, I found this one confusing. The map didn’t always match the trail signs, or so it seemed to me. I enjoyed the boardwalk overlooking the old rice fields, the paths through the forests, and another boardwalk through the swamp. However, this was not a good day for seeing birds or critters. It was too cold for alligators.

I did stop to talk to a couple from Columbia. When I mentioned I was from N.H., she exclaimed that she grew up in Plainfield and lived in Laconia awhile.

It got darker and started to sprinkle. I couldn’t tell where I was on the map and that song about Charley on the MTA kept running through my head; “He’ll never get off, oh, he’ll never get off” only my tune ran, “She’ll never get out oh…” I asked a couple of young woman who caught up with me and they directed me to go back and take a left (I would have thought I needed to go right.) We all turned around because we didn’t want to get caught in the rain. They quickly outdistanced me and disappeared leaving me alone once more. I caught up to a couple of older guys and followed them across old rice fields where some of the grasses looked like bamboo. I finally made it back to the parking lot at 1:30 p.m.

Twenty minutes later, I reached the Comfort Inn Suites. The temperature had dropped to 50 degrees and the odometer read 15838.4. The wind had picked up and the air was very chilly. The woman behind the desk remembered and apologized, saying they had no rooms available. Oh, no! Now what? I got back in my truck and headed towards downtown.