Warm up a moment...

Well, it is a nice sunny day today, though still a bit too cold to enjoy the woods (for me at least).  Looks like tomorrow will be in the 50's; that might just get me out of the apartment.  In the mean time I find myself day-dreaming of warmer times...

Snorkeling in a little cove off of the Florida panhandle, perhaps...

Destin, Florida. Snorkeling in along this jetty was like being inside a salt water fish tank.

 Maybe just swimming in the black water of the Suwannee River...

Fargo, Georgia.  One of the two rivers to originate from the Okefenokee Swamp.

A lazy canoe trip along the Chipola River...

Cypress knees along the river, Florida Caverns State Park

Enjoying the smell of the pines while making my way through the flatwoods of the Okefenokee Swamp...

Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge, eastern entrance.

Or maybe just gazing out over the marsh with the rest of the birds...

Tybee Island, Georgia

There, not so cold anymore.

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.

High Plains Ramblin', Lowlands Reminiscin' Part I

Funny how time moves so slowly until suddenly its moving too fast.

In less than a month's time, I will be living in Kansas.  Southwest Kansas.  Just three years ago, (which seemed like forever ago until recently when now it seems like just yesterday) I found myself in southern Georgia, thinking "What the hell am I going to do in Missouri!?".  Prior to that moment three years ago, I had lived seventeen years of my life in southern Georgia.  Yes, I do make a point to say "southern Georgia" as opposed to just "Georgia"; I feel that it is an important distinction given my aversion to the northern portion of the state, but that is something for another blog.

Anyways, spending the entirety of my formative years in the aforementioned region, I find myself with an unshakable affinity towards the Southeast, especially its wild places (some wilder than others, of course).  I frequently find myself weighing my outdoor experiences in Missouri against those in the places I grew up exploring in southern Georgia.

As I started writing this blog, I realized that if I talked about all of the amazing wild places from back home it could quickly become a multi-blog event, or one far too long-winded single entry.  So, for this entry, I've opted to share some photos from one of the places I am particularly fond of; one of the places that I had the good fortune to explore many times while growing up in St. Marys, Georgia.  Cumberland Island National Seashore, of course.

If you ever visit southeastern Georgia, a trip to Cumberland Island is a must

Cumberland Island, floating just off of St. Marys,  is Georgia's largest and southernmost barrier island. Home to over 9,800 acres of congressionally designated wilderness, this coastal paradise features excellent examples of pristine maritime forest (a habitat quickly becoming scarce on the coast-proper), undeveloped beaches (practically non-existant along the rest of the coast), expansive saltmarsh, and quite an interesting history people-wise.


I had frequented the island many times growing up to camp, however, during the summer of 2011 I finally had a chance to do an extended hike through the wilderness of Cumberland for some camping it its back country.  The trip started from a small dock not too different from the one below.

Looking East from St. Marys, "Gateway to Cumberland Island"

 After loading our gear onto the aptly named "Cumberland Princess", our exodus from the mainland began and we slowly made our way through the estuary that fills the gap between the Georgia coast and it's barrier islands.

Bon voyage!

This sea of green and blue is a common sight anywhere along the coast of Georgia

 After just under and hour of marsh gazing and keeping alert for breaching dolphins, the boat slows to a crawl as we parallel the island's shore.  Looking out from the boat, a dense edge of spanish moss-covered scrub hides the beauty of the island's interior.  Slowly another small dock takes shape ahead. 

Arriving at Sea Camp dock, a location popular with Manatees

After a short orientation by the rangers, my party and I were released to begin our trek to the furthest of three back country campsites, Brickhill Bluff.

Luckily, no hikers were forced to eat each other to survive the journey.

One thing people tend to really find fascinating about the island is it's population of feral horses.  These horses are quite a presence on the island and we had a nice send off by a foal gorging itself on some fallen Spanish Moss.

A young Spanish Moss connoisseur.

Our ten mile hike to our campsite started just beyond the ranger station in the saw palmetto-live oak thicket typical of a lot of the island.  As our group ventured further into the back country, the saw palmetto thickets thinned out a bit and offered us some breathing room allowing a view of the sandy, mixed oak and pine forest more abundant in the inner portion of the island.

A beautiful understory of Saw Palmetto was the main view for the beginning of the hike.

Under more natural conditions, fire helps keep the understory a little less choked with Saw Palmetto.

The season had turned out to be one drier than usual and quite warm, but we were able to enjoy a variety of wildlife and interesting plants during our hike.  Well, mostly it was just me enjoying the plants, but that's okay.
 

We ran into wild turkey several times along the trek.

Ball Moss (Tillandsia recurvata) isn't a moss at all, but a flowering plant particular to the southeastern coastal barrier islands.

It was hard not to be amazed at every one of the huge Live Oaks we encountered along the way.

This is the coolest Live Oak you will ever see.  Don't argue.

As we approached our campsite, we began to get back into view of the island's inner coastline; the cooling breeze coming off of the marsh was most welcome.

An inlet from the salt marsh, picturesque and cooling.

 Turns out, despite the protest of our tired bodies and blistered feet, the 10 mile hike in near 100 degree weather, was worth it.  Situated at the edge of the forest, just close enough to the estuary, Brickhill Bluff was indeed the most rewarding of the three back country campsites, capturing quite nicely the overall vibe of the island I had come to know over the years.

Our campsite, Brickhill Bluff.

 We were happy to make it before sunset with ample time to set up camp, exchange boots for flip flops, eat some of the most delicious dehydrated-then-rehydrated food on the planet, raccoon-proof our gear, set up a hammock, and watch the sun go down. 

Sunset from Cumberland Island, Brickhill Bluff campsite

 A fine way to end the first day of the expedition.  Day two features ten more miles of hiking, more blisters, and a very welcomed beach.  But I'll save all of that for part two.