January 28, 2015
The
weather report this morning at 6:30 says it is 34 degrees here in Charleston,
S.C. The packing is finished except the laptop. I go up to the restaurant for
one last sunrise. I’m not hungry, not feeling the greatest. I order an English
muffin. I don’t even want coffee, just water. The sunrise doesn’t disappoint.
Photos
are imported onto the laptop; another 360. Many are deleted. I keep the camera
setting on the running man symbol to catch birds in flight and it’s better for
traveling. That means two or three pictures are often taken depending how long
the shutter button is held. There are more to go through and I need to do this
more often because far too many are kept.
The
hotel is vacated at 8:30 a.m. and Rte. 17S is crossed to catch Rte. 61 back to
Magnolia Gardens. The Audubon Swamp Garden had been paid for yesterday and I
don’t want to throw the admission away. I stop at Rite Aid for a case of
bottled water now that I don’t have to worry about it freezing overnight and
Magnolia Gardens is reached at 9 a.m.
The
path is followed to the boardwalk entrance and the pass code put in. The door
slowly opens. The boardwalk meanders around tupelos and cypress trees, over
swamp water so filled with duck weed that it looks like a solid lime green
sheet. Dried cattail grasses bend over adding to the thickness of the area.
It’s easy to understand how the old rice fields are filling in.
The
sun is out and I’m walking straight into it. I left my sunglasses in the car.
Pictures are taken to later show what I talk about. Various bird calls echo
through the trees and across the water offset by someone’s yapping little dog
which barked almost the entire time I was there!
I
visit the old plantation cemetery. It looks like they are still finding graves
as brush has been recently cleared. There are a lot of little birds, but I
can’t get close enough to see what they are. A red-headed woodpecker is up
above. I can’t look directly up without my back hurting.
The
rookery is reached and the few trees in the open water have huge nests in them.
It’s surprising that nests that large can be supported on thin branches. Four
great blue heron are counted. I can’t get over seeing such big birds in those
trees. It’s almost comical.
Wait!
What’s that black movement in the water? It’s an alligator. I hadn’t expected
to see any because of the cold. Evidently the sun has warmed the water enough
for this guy. I wonder if they stay in the open water or if they come over into
the duck weed filled sections. The alligator moves to the sunning platform, but
doesn’t climb out of the water. (Sunning platforms were built for the ‘gators
to give customers a chance to view the creatures and, probably, to keep them
from sunning on the dikes where people walk.)
I
continue to follow the paths and boardwalks. This day great herons or ibis are
not seen, but there are Canada geese, teal, and other water birds. My back
gives me trouble again and by the time I make it back to the car, I’m just
barely shuffling along and so intent on getting there that I stop looking
around. Arrgh!
I’m
back on the road by 10:30 after being at the swamp gardens for an hour and a
half. I also realize, as I drive along, that the long straight narrow ridges
seen from the road must be old dikes and the low areas on either side were once
rice fields. After all, these plantations were once thousands of acres.
Rte.
17S is soon accessed and after awhile, the traffic thins and the road narrows.
Creeks and rivers are crossed. There are places touting wildlife refuges. If I
wasn’t hurting, I’d love to visit some of these areas. An hour into the drive,
I stop at a place that sells different flavors of cider and buy a peach cider
and shortly after that, Rte. 17 merges onto I-95. The Savannah River and the
Georgia border are crossed an hour after that and soon I take another break,
this one at the Georgia Welcome Center.
The
debate is to spend the night in Jacksonville, Fla., or make a stop in Georgia.
I’m looking over discount hotel coupons when an older man asks about my walking
stick. He has a really nice one, too – he makes them. He talks about the
huckleberry and how it grows counterclockwise around saplings. Other people
stop to listen and examine both our sticks. Frank says he’s sold over 1,000
mostly from meeting people on the street. He poses for a picture.
I
pick up a hotel coupon book and spend time trying to decide how far I want to
go today. The decision is made to stay a
night in Georgia. I’m going to shoot for a Comfort Suites off exit 3 just
before the Florida border. The ad calls it a brand new hotel and that they
serve fresh baked cookies every day.
Georgia
is another state with a 70 mph speed limit, but it’s still a drive. I believe
the first exit from South Carolina is exit 109 – and I’m going to make it to
exit 3? I’m tired and do a lot of wiggling in my seat to keep awake. When the
driving is tedious, it’s easy to doze off. Many rivers and creeks are crossed.
There are more red buds on trees and signs tempt the traveler to places like
wildlife refuges, historical places, islands, beaches, and more.
Some
signs are very high. I don’t understand that. If a driver is looking that high
to read the signs how is it possible to watch the road? I drive on and on.
The
Comfort Suites in Kingsland is reached at 2:38 p.m. Cookies aren’t served until
5 p.m. (At dinner time? That’s weird.) The pool is right across the hall from
my room and as soon as I get settled, I change into a swim suit and go over.
The water is cold, but I still do it swimming back and forth the length of the
pool; not that it’s a big pool, but it’s refreshing. My back doesn’t even
bother me.
I
return to my room to dry off and change back into street clothes. I find it
hard to believe this is a new hotel. At least it has a couch and a more
comfortable work space than the Holiday Inn, but the furniture looks worn and a
bit abused. I try to order delivery as I’m starving. There are lots of nearby
restaurants; one even within walking distance, but there is no way I could walk
that distance.
There’s
an ad for a pizza place on the stand with the TV station listings. The phone
number, when called, is out of service. Well, that’s not very good guest
hospitality. The front desk says I have to look up a number for a pizza place
out of the phone book. He is not very accommodating.
I
call Papa John’s. I don’t have a menu (first hotel I’ve stayed that doesn’t
have area menus) and have to ask what they have. I order a small cheese pizza
and chicken poppers. The pizza is good when it arrives. However, this is the
first pizza I’ve ever ordered that comes with a garlic dipping sauce and a
jalapeno pepper. Eww. I fill up on a few slices of pizza and don’t eat any
chicken.
The
heater in this place is noisy. They are all noisy, but in other places, there
is a fan to leave on which makes a constant drone. This place, the heater comes
on, then goes off which is a lot of noise, then not. The walls must be really
thin because I can almost hear the words from the next room. I watch TV and
keep fiddling with the volume to coincide with that heater.
I
finally crawl into bed at 9:30, sleep well for a couple of hours, then was very
restless the rest of the night.
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