High Plains Ramblin', Lowlands Reminiscin' Part II

This blister sucked!

This particular blister was lonely after suffering the loss of its neighbor.

But this beach made it all better.

The Atlantic Ocean, as seen from Sea Camp Beach

Maybe I should rewind a bit first.  I left  you last time with a relaxing image of sunset from Brickhill Bluff on Cumberland Island.

Brickhill Bluff Camp, awesome vantage shot courtesy of Jack Sin.

The day after that sunset, our party retraced its steps the whole ten miles in order to spend the last evening on the island at Sea Camp.   Sea Camp being the portion of the island my friends and I grew up haunting.  Excellently secluded campsites under a canopy of classic maritime forest Live Oaks, complete with civilized bathrooms and showers.

Who wouldn't want to camp here?  Or even just nap on the picnic table?

After a twenty mile round trip in less than 24 hours and blisters like the one you witnessed above, I have never appreciated a cold shower and real-life toilet more. Oh, we still had to raccoon-proof everything, if that is even possible.  A small price to pay for having the beach and the horizon of the Atlantic Ocean literally fifty yards from our camp.

Members of the party discuss the importance of raccoon awareness.

View from behind the campsite, the beach hides just beyond that dune.

The walk to the beach was almost as relaxing as being on the beach itself.

No, this isn't a shot from Lord of the Rings, just the trail from the camp to the beach.

Just a few more steps...

The boardwalk through the dune meadow was an awesome glimpse at something typical beach-goers miss out on at the usual barrier island beaches, seeing that they have mostly been replaced with parking lots and sea-side businesses.

Boardwalk across the dune meadow, looking back towards the forest.

Sea Oats play a critical role in stabilizing the dunes; picking or disturbing sea oats is punishable by fine in Georgia, Florida, and North Carolina.

Despite the many times I've been to Cumberland, the seemingly endless beach (17 miles endless), practically void of people, filled only with the sounds of the waves, wind and birds never fails to awe me as I make my way out of the dunes and onto the beach proper.

Beach as far as the eye can see.

As if a twenty mile hike in two days wasn't enough, I found myself unable to sleep back at camp.  The ridiculous heat and humidity and a fellow camper having nightmares about a snake didn't help.  I couldn't complain, I guess.  I had a night terror about raccoons stealing my gear the first night at Brickhill Bluff.  So, why not spend the rest of the evening laying on the beach in the moonlight?  Sounds good. I spent the remainder of our last night on the cool sand of the beach, in the breeze, looking at the stars and watching the sun slowly climb its way out of the ocean.

  Just after the sun had risen, during my walk back through the dune meadow, I saw that the beach morning glories had been there watching the sun rise along with me. Morning glory, indeed.

Beach Morning Glory (Ipomea pes-capre), stabilizing the dunes and enjoying the morning sun.

Get more info on Cumberland Island here.

Historic St. Marys is a neat place to explore while your at it.