Pattison on Wheels

5-10-08: The Third Bull

2008-05-10T10:58:00.000-07:00

I awoke with a fierce sense of myself. I courted it, it faded into fantasy, and then returned. I have been living with an aversion to the experience of being. I avoid feeling my true nature in favor of donning an infinite collection of masks. I have masks for every occasion except authenticity.

There is nothing more important than the experience of being. It is all we can know for certain. Everything else is guesswork.

Consider, for example, the masks I wear. They are designed by me to make an impression on you. All are based on my guess about what you might admire. (Note that this assumes also that you will admire a fake persona.) I am afraid of my fierce true self. I fear the power of it. It contains a dignity that I don’t think will fly in a world that I believe wants me to be a clown. I am afraid of what a genuine me might do to defend that dignity.

The most straightforward access I have found to my experience of being is a paragraph from The Power Of Now by Eckhart Tolle

Connecting With The Inner Body

Please try it now. You may find it helpful to close your eyes for this practice. Later on, when “being in the body: has become natural and easy, this will no longer be necessary. Direct your attention into the body. Feel it from within. Is it alive? Is there life in your hands, arms, legs, and feet—in your abdomen, your chest? Can you feel the subtle energy field that pervades the entire body and gives vibrant life to every organ and every cell? Can you feel it simultaneously in all parts of the body as a single field of energy? Keep focusing on the feeling of your inner body for a few moments. Do not start to think about it. Feel it. The more attention you give it, the clearer and stronger this feeling will become. It will feel as if every cell is becoming more alive, and if you have a strong visual sense, you may get an image of your body becoming luminous. Although such an image can help you temporarily, pay more attention to the feeling than to any image that may arise. An image, no matter how beautiful or powerful, is already defined in form, so there is less scope for penetrating more deeply.

The feeling of your inner body is formless, limitless, and unfathomable. You can always go into it more deeply. If you cannot feel very much at this stage, pay attention to whatever you can feel. Perhaps there is just a slight tingling in your hands or feet. That’s good enough for the moment. Just focus on the feeling. Your body is coming alive. Later, we will practice some more. Please open your eyes now, but keep some attention in the inner energy field of the body even as you look around the room. The inner body lies at the threshold between you form identity and your essence identity, your true nature. Never lose touch with it.

I suspect that if there is ever a world wide wave of awakening it will look like this.

I find me and then lose me again. It has been a theme with me for many years starting with my study of a little book called Zen Flesh, Zen Bones. When you arrive at the point of being with your true self (the bull):

3. Perceiving the Bull

I hear the song of the nightingale. The sun is warm, the wind is mild, willows are green along the shore,
Here no bull can hide! What artist can draw that massive head, those majestic horns?

Comment: When one hears the voice, one can sense its source. As soon as the six senses merge, the gate is entered. Wherever one enters one sees the head of the bull! This unity is like salt in water, like colour in dyestuff. The slightest thing is not apart from self.

I think I am done with this blog now. Thanks for visiting.

5-9-08: Gremlins

2008-05-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

I left my campsite reluctantly but I needed to charge m auxiliary battery. So I drove north on 129 and took a few photos of clouds. I stopped by a recreation area I had discovered in previous wanderings that has free showers. I gave myself my weekly haircut (a week overdue) and cleaned up.

Back to camp to experience and wrestle with computer gremlins thereby using up the recharged battery again. So I took a sort drive up Slick Rock Road to the end and came back with enough charge to process a couple photos.

5-8-08: Down Day

2008-05-08T10:30:00.000-07:00

A day off. Off in space mostly. I found a nice free campsite and nearby free showers so I got sick. One guy I talked to several days ago mentioned that he had been ill the day before. I weathered it by reading and sleeping . . . oh and thinking, but not much.

5-7-08: Tail Of The Dragon

2008-05-07T10:24:00.000-07:00

I made a ridiculously huge breakfast (again) and felt kind of overwrought for a while. I just crawled back in the tent and relaxed trying to digest it all. I got out of the campground by about eleven and just drove around exploring the back road, lakes, and campsites scattered about. I stumbled on a motorcycle shop called The Dragon’s Tail. I had just recently heard about this legendary stretch of winding road. It was recommended as a place to take action photos of all the motorcycles testing their metal, reaction times, and body parts. It all sounded familiar and reminded me of the notorious Sunday Morning Ride up California Highway One from Mill Valley to Inverness.

So I stopped and found out where it was located and headed that way on 129. Sure enough it was winding all right. Lots of bikes and, hmmm, lots of photographers with large signs on their vehicles giving their websites. I drove the run, getting a little motion sick en route. I blamed breakfast. I stopped at the end at a picnic table turnout and had a nice light lunch. Then turned around and went back and stopped and chatted up some photographers. This is their business. They take three or four shots of every motorcycle, car, truck, whatever that goes by and put them up on the web for sale. They tell me that during the summer they take upwards of 40,000 pictures a week.

I talked about photo technique and equipment and, with one guy, unrequited love. Let it go my friend, let it go. Meanwhile motorcycles are going by getting snapped. Most of them are just there for the idea of it and they ride slowly and wave and smile or look tough for the camera. Some are performance jockeys and scream through the turns with their inside knee on the pavement and lots of noise. I noticed old feelings and adrenaline coming up.

And then there is something odd about all this recreational petroleum while driving past all these hydroelectric inspired lakes and listening on the radio to some quick talking “authority” being interviewed on a discussion program and just selling nuclear power as hard as he can go.

I found a very nice isolated, free camp site on a dirt road called Slick Rock Road. I made some soup and messed with photos while a pileated woodpecker rattled the trees overhead and the barred owl had things to say. They have fireflies here but they favor the top of the canopy rather than the low levels of those I remember from my Michigan youth.

5-6-08: I Think That I Shall Never . . .

2008-05-06T09:47:00.000-07:00

I had a good night’s sleep with lots of dreams about Asians and lots of deep intuitions about something that bothers me—something that I must never bring to consciousness and must constantly guard against bringing to consciousness. Just knowing that is useful. It makes me envision what it would be like to not have a blind spot. Wouldn’t that be nice.

I got a shower for four quarters and then some free ice for the cooler and wandered around a bit getting info and trying to think about what to do next. I got into a conversation with a young man who works for NOC as a photographer. He takes pictures of the rafters going through the rapids and the camera sends them to the studio via wi-fi so when the client gets to the end of their trip they can buy a cd with documentation of their adventure.

I set off vaguely thinking I would go up the road a bit to see what was there. I saw a sign that said “Joyce Kilmer National Forest” so I took that. And through a lot of times when I had no idea where I was, I actually did get to that place. I found a campground nearby and staked out a site for five bucks. I asked a ranger who was overseeing work on the water system what may be good places to camp for free and where can I get some good photos. He gave me tips and off I went. I cruised the general Joyce Kilmer area, got some pictures, listened to NPR, and had a nice lunch of salad greens, pretzels and oranges.

Last on my itinerary was to take a hike to the Joyce Kilmer memorial. It is in an old growth forest with huge tulip poplars. I was feeling kind of weary before I had gone a half mile. I sat at the memorial stone and took a picture or two when an old man, having a hard time walking, came down the trail. He sat down and we talked. He got out of the navy in 1946 and became a teacher in Michigan and then in California. Later he just didn’t like being at home so he wandered all over the world. He hiked in Iceland, South America, Antarctica. He was fascinated with trees and knew their Latin names—is writing a book about them. We talked of trees, ecological issues, the evil of war, and other things. Then he said he had to go and got up with obvious pain and went down the trail.

I took the rest of the hike wondering at the beauty of these forests. The fact that there are people like me and the tree guy and the people who see that these forests are protected tells me that many of us value the aesthetics of nature. Some don’t. The trend is that we are losing more and more of that beauty.

When I got back to my campsite I made a delicious dinner of potatoes and cheese using the boiling potato water to heat the glue to patch my air mattress and also setting up the computer on the picnic table at the same time. All very efficient so I could eat and work on photos at the same time. One must use one’s time wisely.

5-5-08: Wow

2008-05-05T17:01:00.000-07:00

Cinco de Mayo was relaxed and nice and filled with much appreciation for the beautiful world I find myself in. I had six eggs and toast for breakfast. I know its a lot but the first three tasted so good . . .

I drove over to the Nantahala again. The mountains along the way are just too brilliant to describe. I made myself familiar with the scene at Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC.com) and found a place there with free camping and set up my tent. They allow public access to their wi-fi too so that is how this got uploaded along with the last days since the twenty-ninth.

Then I went exploring and photo shooting up the river. After going way up the river I see what’s happening here. There is a huge lake which feeds the river and allows it to be an ideal training ground for white water for the whole season. I also found some free isolated camping spots where I will likely go tomorrow night. Anyway between the white water and the hatchery trout they have a monster industry here plus hydroelectric power from the same source. Wow. Is it all about power? I was thinking today that my canoe trip and these river runners are also petroleum powered. Sure the canoe is a nice ride but the petroleum carries us upstream.

5-4-08: Non_Stop Beauty

2008-05-04T16:45:00.000-07:00

I was a little intimidated by the hike out. I knew that if I couldn’t make it I could just camp though the food was getting short. I was not looking forward to another meal of rice and reconstituted hummus. I took my time and took a lot of photos. It was just beautiful. There were many hikers going in and a few passed me going out as well.

The beauty is non-stop and the fragrances are knockouts. The dogwood is so sweet and the balsam so leathery pungent and many more. All the while Deep Creek is tumbling over the rocks and rushing past the mossy banks covered with tiny flowers.

I got back to the parking lot in one piece by three and felt pretty grungy but first went looking to replace the lost water bottle. That took me to Nantahala Outfitters which turns out to be a kind of vortex of outdoorsy folks. The Appalachian Trail crosses the Nantahala River and U.S. 19 at that point so they have a lot of supplies and the river is amazing white water and people were running slaloms there. I found a water bottle and access to a free shower and then I bought myself a catfish dinner. Nice.

I went looking for a free campsite but time was running out and my GPS took me back to the Deep Creek Campground by mistake so I just camped there. It’s $8.50 with the senior discount. I set up the tent. And then set up the computer on the picnic table catching up with the written notes from the last few days and sorting through the photos. With luck tomorrow I will find Internet access and upload.

5-3-08: Questing For Magic Revisited

2008-05-03T16:40:00.000-07:00

Today was supposed to be a day of rest. As usual I overdid it instead. Just as I finished breakfast it started to rain. I put on my poncho and took a hike leaving everything except the camera at campground #58.

I hiked a couple miles upstream to the Pole Road Creek Trail. Then back a ways and up the Martin Gap Trail to the Sunkota Ridge Trail. That part was pretty steep and took me through lunch time without food or water When I got there I just rested under a tree and let my poncho collect rain for drinking.

What motivated me through the pain is the aesthetic pleasure of these woods. The wildflowers, the perfect new leaves on the new plants and old, and the green everywhere from the moss on the tree trunks and rocks to the top of the high canopy. Streams and waterfalls everywhere.

I was also somewhat questing for a clear view of what I remember from having been here at this season in 1959. I spent days then watching the clouds and mist rise and fall in the valleys It was a magic time for me and I was revisiting it with this days weather—the weather that give these mountains their name.

I never did get an unobstructed view to bring back in the camera but I saw the beauty of it through the trees. The only people I saw were two couples on horseback. As I passed them the women were dismounted to photograph a perfect ladyslipper bloom. When I got back to camp around three I drank a lot of water, had lunch and slept for an hour. When I woke the sun was out. A nice dinner and a short quiet walk ended the day nicely.

5-2-08: Backpacking: A Wobbly Start

2008-05-02T16:33:00.000-07:00

I slept and meditated, meditated and slept until 9:30. I had some trouble getting a wood fire going well and spilled some water from the cereal pot too. Then some women came fast exercise walking by. They interrupted their conversation to say hello and stared at my smoky little scene. More humility for breakfast. I filtered some water and devised a system for carrying it in a ziploc plastic bag inside a my little nylon pouch. First I spilled the water and had to refill the bag then the first bag leaked down my pants leg. I was thinking I should just turn around and go back to the car. But the breakfast cereal tasted great just slightly burned on the bottom the way I like it. So I headed farther up the trail. I was surprised to find a numbered campsite just a quarter mile along. Apparently I hadn't camped where I thought nor in a designated area. I walked a couple more miles to the next campground and had lunch and rested for an hour before moving on. It turned out to be only a short distance from there to campground #58 so I didn’t overdo it too much. But I must say this is the first time on this trip I have been backpacking and the first time I feel old. I used to hike into Granite Basin in King’s Canyon in a day. It’s ten miles and a 5000 foot climb. I barely made six miles here in two days. I’m old now. This is hard work for me. I’m packing lots of weight. It’s good though to think about petroleum and the lack. And no matter how sore and weary I am nature’s beauty keeps amazing me.

I saw no people after the two women exercising in the morning. Oh, there were five men on horseback with two pack animals. They were stunningly photogenic but I didn’t think to snap.

5-1-08:

2008-05-01T16:17:00.000-07:00

I broke camp an took another look at the elk viewing area but no elk. I did see a tom turkey in display.

I headed out of the park looking for another site at lower altitude so to be warmer. I stopped at a visitor center where they had advice and a large model relief map. I picked out some possibles and headed for Deep Creek. I got a short run on the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s a gorgeous highway built specifically for scenery. There is no commercial anything and the shoulders are mowed grass and it goes through some stunning natural beauty. Though it is a dream come true it felt a bit embarrassing in this time to treat petroleum as a recreation. Don’t you think we are running out? Not that we haven’t burned it foolishly in times past and not that we don't currently by people living in the past. But now?

I arrived at Deep Creek campground seriously ambiguous about camping vs. backpacking and then camping. I made an impulse decision and packed up my backpack and headed up Deep Creek Trail. Somewhere along the way I lost my water bottle. Not auspicious. My doubts came back. I left my backpack at the first campsite and walked back a couple miles to where I last remembered using it. No sign of it. By the time I got back to my campsite I was pretty tired.

This is when I really start to be hard on myself usually. I was worried about the water thing but solved that and several other problems one by one. I have a water filter and the trail follows a creek. I’ll be fine. Just got another slight pride haircut.

4-30-08: Relaunch Next Venture

2008-04-30T15:58:00.000-07:00

I fiddled around all day getting ready to go, saying goodbye and thanks to sister Peg. I packed the car, tried to figure out where to go and finally just picked a place name from Smoky Mountain National Park and printed out directions from Google maps. I was vaguely unsettled as I drove for the few hours it took to get to Cataloochee campground. The leaves became thinner and newer and the dogwoods were still out at the higher altitude and latitude. I guess I just felt a bit lost. Or something. I kept asking: “WHAT?” It’s something about my constant low-level complaining. Looking for proof that life sucks. Whatever for?

I checked into a lovely little campground with very few campers and a fine fast mountain creek burbling by. I made myself an excellent meal using my new ultra-light camp stove and took a great walk up the creek . . . so to speak. I wanted to get some photos of the creek before it got too dark. So I did.

While walking it occurred to me that I need to apply the same sense of wonder to my thinking that I apply to other mind-boggling mysteries like “what was the neighborhood like before the big bang,” or “why does time expand just ahead of the expansion of space in our expanding universe.” Why do I think I’m qualified to rate my thoughts—myself—good or bad. It’s all a wonderment and me no less. So there.

A short drive to check out the neighborhood and on the chance I might see an elk or bear but it yielded only gorgeous scenery.

4-29-08: I, Bozo

2008-04-29T19:16:00.000-07:00

Another day in a house. It’s getting to feel comfortable and that makes me uncomfortable.

So I went shopping and bought a backpacking stove, a small camera case suitable for packing. and some lightweight food items.

During the shopping trip I noticed that I would forget to lock the car about one out of three times and twice I came back to the car and found my lumbar support lying next to the door. I am a bozo. I am confused. I am nevertheless somehow usually unscathed. Again and again I bumble and put myself at risk and survive. Fine then. I don’t get to be proud of it really because I look a fool but, in fact, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When I got back to the house I made a simulacrum of my famous shitake vegetable stir fry. Since I didn’t have my rice cooker I looked on the web to find how to make rice and learned a new way that made great fluffy rice. Actually, better than my rice cooker.

Peg and I took a walk through the town of Greer SC and then a ride to look at another house she is considering for her next home. Life unfolds.

I took no photos today but I got around to processing one of the endangered swallow tail kite that I took on April 23 on the river trip. I saw them several times—a group of three. For a raptor kites are quite social, often nesting in villages. They are threatened by the loss of the lowland forest habitat which I have been so enjoying the last weeks.

4-28-08: Drudge

2008-04-28T10:02:00.000-07:00

I worked the last couple days. My usual creative self, building some new web pages. Fun and scary. Scary because I get so wrapped up in it all, don’t take breaks, don’t think about food or walks, and forget to have a life worth blogging about. Fortunately others reminded me and I got some of those things done as well.

The brown thrasher has a nest in the back yard and is wrapped up in domestic chores even more than I am.

4-26-08: Back To The Grind (And Fun Too)

2008-04-26T06:27:00.000-07:00

Bills, bills, bills. And many other gritty details of modern living like fallout from some creep compromising my credit card necessitating it be replaced necessitating that some automatic payments done through that card had to be re-submitted and all the logistics involved in doing it from across the nation: FAX, mailing, emailing, voice phone calls, et al. And some fun in the day too getting to see that some of my photos came out well. It was a question because I usually shoot with a tripod but since I was mostly in the canoe I had to hone my hand-held technique. I was pleased with a lot of them.

Another fun thing was taking some pictures of my middle sister Peg. We had a good time doing it and got a lot of keepers.

Peg and her daughter Silica joined me on a great walk in the half gentrified, half for-lease downtown of Greer SC under huge threatening thunderclouds. Me counting the seconds from lightning to thunder and dividing by five to get the miles distant. The rain dumped just as we got onto the front porch. We had a great meal of my favorite: chick peas and rice.

The blog is almost caught up from eleven days missed. It is a bit onerous to do like that. I just have to get a laptop so I can do the typing daily instead of transcribing from back longhand jottings. OK. Fine. Make me buy another gadget. Heh, heh.

4-25-08: Return To Planet Earth

2008-04-25T06:25:00.000-07:00

Up and rolling on wheels again but rather spacey. during the night, planning, I put it together that I now had propane so could cook breakfast here at the state park. When I got up and packed I forgot and drove off without breakfast thinking I would have to eat in a restaurant somewhere as there is no wood gathering allowed at the park. Maybe it’s like a week long meditation retreat: it takes a while to re-enter.

I cruised down the highway feeling good but not quite of this earth. I stopped for fuel and spotted the pump with the green handle indicating to me the diesel fuel pump. While filling up I was watching a long military convoy entering the highway from a dirt road by the station. The drivers seemed to have quite a problem steering them. I speculated on whether military vehicles had very high steering ratios.

About twenty minutes down the road the car started surging a bit and missing so I took the next exit and pulled over to see what was happening. I shut it off and it wouldn’t re-start. I was trying to think what had happened. The only thing new was the fuel. Did it have water in it? I looked at my receipt from the pump and it was for gasoline. It seem BP stations use green as their signature color and don’t care what pump they put it on. (Of course there would have been plenty of other cues had I been more on the planet.)

I had put gasoline in my diesel car! I had a sinking horror that I might have ruined my engine—melted a piston or something. Phone calls revealed that, no, I hadn’t destroyed anything. All the fuel would have to be removed from the tank. I called Triple A and learned that my emergency road service insurance now only covers three (3) miles and the car must be unloaded first. Impossible. So I found a local (Clinton SC) mechanic who could do it and they called their local tow service. I was back on the road in a few hours having spent the time on a bench outside the garage reading, listening to a virtuoso mocking bird on the roof above, and pleasuring in the perfect temperature and soft breeze.

I suffered nothing but a $152 charge including the tow and gained a slightly diminished ego. I got some Chinese veggie take-out on the way to my sister’s house and we had dinner together. Then I started transcribing the hand written journal from the last eleven days and uploading it to the blog.

4-24-08: Off The River

2008-04-24T17:44:00.000-07:00

I awoke refreshed and somewhat amazed at how well I slept. I got on the river before ten but throughout the morning I was aware that alligators are on my mind. All sorts of logs, sticks, and brush suggested alligator shapes.

Thanks to an amazingly ambiguous guidebook I was pretty confused about the best plan. Tentatively I would pull out early at West Side Landing and camp. I got there by two and it was clear that this was a tidal area. It was slack at noon and started ebbing pretty good by two.

Meanwhile I had reached my ride by cel and arranged to be picked up tomorrow afternoon. But I realized I would not have ebb-tide tomorrow until afternoon so I just got back in the canoe and started paddling. The guidebook said Penny Creek Landing was five miles downstream and a mile up Penny creek. It was wrong.

My map showed Penny Creek just two miles down river from West Side Landing. When I got to the mouth of the creek the current coming out was too strong to paddle against. Anyway, I was still too far up river to catch enough of the outgoing afternoon tide to make my appointment. So I just kept going. A serious headwind came up so I hugged the low bank to get a little shelter. This disturbed the many large alligators catching rays in the greenery you see in the photo.. They would spook, hit the water, and scare the hell out of me. One which must have been twelve feet long slapped the water with his tail as he dove. That generated a huge splash and enough adrenaline to power me against the wind for another mile or so.

Beautiful river though very different from the previous hardwood forests. This is open marsh land. No place to camp so I pushed on and got to my take-out landing by 4:30. I called my ride and left a message but took a long walk and prepared to camp here if necessary. The landing, called Willtown Bluff is an old plantation. In the early days the main access was via the river so they built near the water on high ground. There are amazing old live oaks on the shore and still some of the old elitism. Fine looking horses at pasture and tennis courts behind the big houses.

Mickey picked me up around 8 PM and we chatted on the ride back to the Carolina Heritage Outfitters headquarters. I camped in the state park across the river and listened to the coal fired power plant until I put in ear plugs. These plants are apparently the source of the bad news about this beautiful river system. Mercury making the fish toxic. The folks I talked to along the river—all avid fishers—loved the river and hated the mercury but didn’t know what to do about it. We see the problems but the solutions are not so clear.

As for me, I was glad to get a hot shower and lay a weary body down before ten o’clock.

4-23-08: Me And The Resident Alligator

2008-04-23T17:17:00.000-07:00

A good start at 9:30 and I focused on putting on some mileage for a change. It looks on the map as if there may not be much high ground for camping down the way. I did some exploring anyway.

Mostly cloudy with occasional sun. I had a nice tail wind. Still see no one on the river but me. More houses now but seldom see the residents.

I saw the first ospreys today and many more kingfishers along with more kites, and some wood storks.

I was having such a good time I passed up several very attractive camp sites. Finally I pulled into a little pond off the river and saw what I thought was an enormous turtle on a log. I got the camera ready and just as I realized it was an alligator it woke up with a start and hit the water. The photo wasn’t the best but it shows a lot. For one thing how much you don't see when they are in the water. There is a lot of beef under there. Another is the spikes all over the back. Primitive. Click on it for larger sized version.

Later, after I set up my tent and had supper I took the tripod and long lens near the log in case he came back. I heard an outboard start and take off from one of the houses across the river behind the campsite. Soon a white-haired man eased his boat into my little pond. When he saw the canoe he looked around, said hello to me, and shut off the outboard.

We talked a bit. He asked if I got a picture of the alligator that likes to sleep on that log. Yes.

He said he just fed him a 30 pound catfish yesterday. I joked that I would be safe tonight then. But later I remembered reading a warning that you shouldn’t feed the alligators because they will become unafraid and thus have to be destroyed.

I got caught in a little cloudburst while taking photos. It took me a while to get everything covered and my mattress toweled off. When I got squared away and snug in my tent I heard a lot of splashing in the pond. Since it had stopped raining and was still light I went out to see what there was to see.

The old man (he was born the same year as I) had said his little alligator was about six feet long. And there it was, lurking off shore from the canoe. So I got the tripod out again and took photos with three different lenses for maybe an hour until there just wasn’t enough light.

Although the alligator seemed a little more shy of me than I was of him he did keep a presence fairly close and I took it as a territorial statement that he wasn’t going to be leaving his sweet catered pond any time soon. It did occur to me that he was just waiting until dark. When I put away my camera gear I went out and took one more look and he was almost to shore about 50 feet from tent.

4-22-08: Day Seven On The River

2008-04-22T17:03:00.000-07:00

The food bag was untouched in the morning in spite of my concerns about racoons. It took a while to get going. Another long hot shower, drying the tent, packing the gear back down the bluff.

I was drifting on down with a slight tail wind by eleven. The river is mostly wide down here with occasional fast narrows. I explored some gorgeous side swamps. There were several sightings of the endangered swallow tailed kites. Lots of kingfishers on this section. Houses too, near the roads, and then long stretches of big trees and birdsong.

I stopped at a landing which turned out to be called Good Hope. A policeman pulled up to let his drug-sniffing dog have some exercise. We had a good chat about drugs and about the river while the black lab swam and fetched.

Though it was cloudy most of the day and even sprinkled a little it was lovely. Mid-afternoon the sun began to make cameo appearances and I found an exquisite little creek and, after exploring it, camped where it enters the Edisto.

I made a wood fire because it was a good place for it and my propane bottle felt light. I probably made less than ten miles today but my back is sore because of all the side trips many of which were against a current.

I keep trying to plan the trip but why? It all seems to work out rather nicely.

4-21-08: Something Very Powerful

2008-04-21T14:31:00.000-07:00

On the river at 9 AM. Earliest yet. Just another fine day. Drifting, paddling, exploring, and sometimes taking pictures. I am flirting with happiness here. This is the longest unbroken pleasant aesthetic experience on this odyssey.

There is something very powerful about doing this. It is opening me to being much more than usual.

Several times I reached a state of perfection—me, everything. This. No analysis. No labels. I, for one, like it that way.

I took a side trip up Four Hole Swamp, a small gorgeous little river with lots of critters. Turtles, alligators, and the constant background music of bird song.

Where the Four Hole Swamp River empties into the Edisto there is a tepee. A kayaker I talked to before the trip told me the man who lives at the tepee is an interesting character. So I looked for him on the way in but didn’t see anyone in the camp though there were several tents besides the tepee.Two canoes and an outboard skiff were tied up below the camp.

So for the two and a half hours I spent on the Four Hole Swamp I was always aware of how this person would regard me. He might like my canoe skill. He might not appreciate my ignorance of the bird calls. Etc.

On the way back down he was about and invite me up so I tied up next to one of his canoes and joined him. He invited me to eat but I declined. We chatted a while. He is 74 years old and has a mile of fabulous river front. He lives about 20 miles away but camps here for the summer . He was sharpening one of several knives that were here and there in the camp. There was a pistol on a nearby stump.

He was just as proud as he could be and claimed to love his life. He wanted to clear some more space and make it available to people on the river for free camping.

I soon went on my way thinking: A) He was not what I had imagined. B) He respected the special place he had. C) He was willing to share. D) He was just another human pride machine.

By the time I got to Givahns Ferry State Park I was tired. The longest paddle and the longest time paddling this day six.

The ranger wasn’t around so I asked a jogger for info. He gave me what I needed so I went back down the bluff to the river to get my tent. When I came back up the ranger pulled up. He checked me in to a site and promised hot showers. The jogger came by my site with more suggestions and told him I was all set. On finding out that I was canoeing he said his friend was a canoer. He suggested I come by his site or his friend could come over here. I said: “Sure, have him stop by.” Within a few minutes his friend came by with dinner for me. Much appreciated as I am tired to the point of paranoia and I was beginning to think this whole state park thing was a mistake. It’s quite a hike from the river to the campground and my gear is not set up for backpacking. It took several trips and I’m a little worried about the food tucked up in the upside down canoe down on the beach and whether the raccoons will tear up the wetproof food bag. Anyway, the gesture of a gift meal and then a long hot shower made me glad I was here.

4-20-08: Conditioned To Fear

2008-04-20T14:23:00.000-07:00

Much “self-help” is a critique of the tools of fear like thinking and compulsion. Nothing wrong with them in a fearful situation. But you’ll never get rid of them unless you get rid of the fear. Nor does one want to. Fear stimulates certain kinds of problem solving behavior. But some of our fear is conditioned. Some probably chosen.

These thoughts set me up for a lovely day. The vision of some time sans fear let me experience life with open clarity. This.

Picture me drifting down the beautiful Edisto River. The sun is shining. Elegant little puffy clouds are forming—impossibly white, bright, and pure.

I stopped at Carolina Heritage Outfitters headquarters by Highway 15 and charged my cel phone and camera batteries in my car while I made a quick run to get some cash from an ATM. Just In Case.

Back on the river after the pit stop I was relieved to leave all the noise behind. Probably my longest mileage day thus far at over fifteen miles. I’m told that is average but I like taking my time, exploring, taking pictures, watching the birds, clouds, mind.

Dinner of rice and tuna eaten quickly because of excess mosquitoes. Respite in the tent reading, listening to the barred owls, then the turkeys roosting in the trees above my tent, then the alarm snort of a deer, a whippoorwill.

4-19-08: Happy In General

2008-04-19T14:10:00.000-07:00

As I left that little slough where I camped last night there were some other paddlers on the river. First I’ve seen. I have seen a few motorboats with overweight fishermen smoking cigars and hoisting a beer but no paddlers. Mom is in a kayak and dad and daughter in a canoe.

When asked for a weather report they said rain is expected tonight and clear tomorrow. I went on by them as they were just drifting and chatting. I said they would see me again because I checked out all the side trips.

Having said that I began to see myself from their viewpoint and considered gong into places I didn’t really want to. No wonder I like being alone. What a lot of social freight I carry.

The river was wide and lovely. I tried the style of the family behind me and drifted some. Since the river is mostly going south the best light for photography is behind me. I’m getting pretty good at paddling backwards down the river. We leapfrogged for the ten miles to the little tree house cabin where they were to stay. The cabins are provided by Carolina Heritage Outfitters and cost $125 a night. The family invited me up to see it. Very elegant with a little gas range, a loft, and two futons. It will sleep six and there are others cabins that are a bit larger.

I paddled only a short way downstream when I found a lovely inlet leading to other channels. A large fish flopped and I pulled in there gliding between the cedar knees and into a little hideaway beach where I could flip the canoe upside down in case of rain.

I emptied it out, sponged out the mud and sticks from the last four days. Then I set up the tripod and took some photos of the canoe—some with me in it. The canoe is quite interesting. A worker for the Carolina Heritage Outfitters asked: “What kind of canoe is that?” I told him: "It is an Old Town canoe that my dad bought used more than fifty years ago." Together we are a period piece.

Happy to get dinner and everything squared away by 5:30. Happy to get these old bones horizontal. Happy with life on the Edisto River. Happy in general. The weather has been perfect. The canoe hasn’t leaked a drop since my repair at launch. I am in awe that I am privileged to have this experience. I am ever so grateful to myself for letting it happen.

4-18-08: Miles To Go

2008-04-18T13:51:00.000-07:00

I slept for twelve hours. I think this is good. I noticed yesterday afternoon that my hand seemed steadier than usual when taking photos. Maybe the exercise, the peace, or tiredness. Maybe all three.

As you might expect there are biting insects in these swamps. I use lots of repellent and soon learn any spots I’ve missed. They are not bad on the river at all but they favor certain times and conditions on the backwaters I love to explore. I got the place and time perfectly during this mornings’s toilet. I never thought to spray my butt though I will in future.

A human in a little motor boat came into the slough where I’m camped. He seemed to be getting something from the banks. Traps?

I got moving on the river by eleven. I stopped for lunch around noon and took this photo which somewhat suggests the tea colored water that is called black water and it does look black in the shade. Then I paddled for five more hours. There was one place with fast water that was beautiful and challenging and the rest was just beautiful. I wouldn’t have pushed myself quite so much but I wanted to get past the Highway 21 bridge (where most people start this trip) and into the stretch below which is reputed to be some of the best. I also wanted to know where I was and how fast I was going. The map I have for the river starts at Highway 21 and the guidebook gives vague information. Below the bridge there are wood duck houses with big numbers indicating miles from the sea. They start at 103.

I stopped at the bridge to buy eggs and bread from the convenience store there. Then I went two miles downstream at, it turns out, three miles per hour. I soon found a little inlet and ducked in and ate six scrambled eggs with toast. Tired.

4-17-08: Harmless Alligators—Dangerous Mosquitoes

2008-04-17T20:43:00.000-07:00

I slept thirteen hours. I may have overdone the paddling yesterday. Ego. I felt OK though and took my time making fried eggs and toast and then disassembling the camp and putting it all into the waterproof bags and loading the canoe. I must have misread my watch when I shoved off because when I got back to the confluence of the North and South Forks it was earlier than when I thought I’d left. Probably about an hour coming downstream what took five hours up. More challenging down because of the speed you approach hazards.

From here the Edisto River became quite wide and after a while I felt OK to unpack the camera from the dry bag and keep it at hand.

The number of cabins increased. Some were missing roofs from an apparent tornado. There was a cabin with some one working on it. First people I’ve seen since yesterday morning. Lots of birds though, and turtles too, and one sizable alligator.

I drifted as slowly as the fast current would allow and kept exploring every possible side swamp and inlet. I kept weeping slightly. Maybe I’m happy.

I camped in an inlet around three. I unloaded the gear, inflated the air mattress, and rested my weary back. Well, I asked for some upper body exercise.

It was warm. I had rice and black eyed peas and retired to the tent to call a friend and then read safely out of reach of the mosquitoes which are plentiful in these little backwaters I like to nest in.

4-16-08: Rolling On The River

2008-04-16T19:07:00.000-07:00

I got up at 6 AM and by 9 I was at the North Fork put-in: Kill Kare Landing. With help from Mickey, my shuttle driver, we put the canoe in the water. I said goodbye to Mickey, loaded my gear, and tied it in when I noticed a small leak. I turned the canoe over, wiped the suspicious area with paper towels and put my new duct tape over the rough spot. Loaded up and donned a life jacket because I had no idea what to expect. All the gear is in waterproof bags and tied into the canoe in case of the worst. I pushed off at 9:30.

I am a fair canoeist and the river turned out to be quite friendly. I soon took off the flotation and enjoyed the ride. A few wood ducks, a deer, turtles, and one nice view of the giant pileated woodpecker flying across the river right in front of me.

By eleven I reached the confluence of the the North and South forks. It seemed too early so I paddled upstream on the South Fork just to get the full experience.

I paddled upstream against the strong current until afternoon when I stopped for lunch. I considered camping there but there were two trees rubbing and I knew they would say strange things to me in the night. So further up I explored sloughs and small river channels. Some went nowhere.

I looked for campsites that would be out of the way. Nothing seemed quite right and it was so pleasant moving slowly upstream through the beautiful woods and swampland I just kept going. I promised myself I’d stop at 4 PM but cheated and waited until 4:30. I have not seen one human since I put in. More close encounters with pileated woodpeckers, more deer, a few habitations, but no people.

I camped on a tiny island 100 feet by 45 feet. So? I don’t quite know how to explain the amazing peace available here. I guess I had some idea it was here or I wouldn’t have braved my fears.

4-15-08: Launch Postponed

2008-04-15T17:53:00.000-07:00

Last night, having made the commitment to go canoeing, I was very aware of my fear. I kept waking up and thinking of things that could go wrong. Will the canoe stay on the top of the car? Will it leak like a sieve? (I wrote a note to buy some duct tape and a big sponge.) Will I be able to sleep along the way listening to the alligators roar and hiss? Will I get the canoe tangled in brush and capsize?

It is a considerable act of faith. I have never taken this long a canoe trip before. What was I thinking? The vessel is untested. It’s been sitting around for quite a while from the looks of it. Well, faith is exactly what I need to practice. It turned out that by focusing on my fear I dropped off to sleep. The fear came from thinking about the unknown future but the fear itself was in the present. So focusing on the fear was focusing on the now and that is generally tonic.

Back down through the South Carolina Lowcountry. It was soon obvious that the new ratcheting tie down straps worked perfectly. Though the canoe is much longer than my little car it rode fine. I cruised at 70 MPH with no hit on fuel mileage—just the same as the car top carrier. The trees have leafed out in my absence. Very pretty.

The drive to the river was uneventful except for an ugly shopping experience at the Home Depot buying, you guessed it, duct tape and a big sponge.

I tried to get to the river soon enough to catch a shuttle to the put-in place but didn’t quite make it in time. So I camped near by in Colleton State Park which is right on the beautiful full-flowing Edisto River. It is also on U. S. Highway 15 and next to a noisy power plant. Not the idyllic vision I had for tonight but certainly not scary either. The only thing that worries me is that it means one more night to anticipate the worst. Maybe that won’t be necessary.