We're ready for our big day in the swamp, packing the boats up here almost ready to push off. The water is completely still and you can see a perfect reflection in the black water.
All morning we paddle along a river that widens and narrows many times. There are spots where motor boats can operate and places where we barely skim past the sand below. There is one bridge we pass under. We use this opportunity to explore on the blacktop a bit. An old, abandoned home mesmerizes us. Will thinks he recognizes the house from a movie. It is movie worthy of a beautiful old (maybe 100 yrs) structure on high ground riverside with just a faint lightly used two track driveway.
We slip the boats back into the black water and continue downriver. This next section is not scenic. It is straight with a high sandy bank on river left, sporting a pine savannah. Long Leaf Pine is the dominate tree here. We pass a private boat ramp from which some kayakers use as a starting point through the Three Sisters Swamp. The river becomes a bit more interesting. It is more serpentine, narrow and shallow. Will is armed with directions from master canoeist and guidebook author Paul Ferguson. We are supposed to look for channels going off into the swamp on river right. At this point it is counter-intuitive, but we are to head off into the swamp instead of following the well defined river. We find such a place and pause. It matches the description and is counter-intuitive. We just sorta shrug and decide to go for it. Immediately we are in maze of narrow channels going different ways. It is a bit intense at first wondering if we are headed into a unpenetrable area. We spend much time looking things over before proceeding. Most of the time we are hung up on a fallen log or too wide to fit between some knees. We are careful not to lose sight of one another. It is very easy to do here. Probably 15 minutes into this swamp session we finally come around and realize we will make it through and we should be checking out the amazing place we are in. It is here the oldest trees east of Rockies reside. BLK 069 as it is known, was core dated to 364 AD. And that was 12-15 feet up from the base. Cypress trees have immense bases, so cores have to be done higher up. There are larger trees than BLK 069 but core samples showed a condition known as heart rot in which the center of the tree rots first and can not be dated.
The Nature Conservancy owns a portion of this swamp and many of the monster trees. The trees grow to a certain height and then seem to grow only in girth. Some are huge at the top and have equally large branches. Like other old thing, they are gnarled and missing tops and limbs. Spanish moss adorns everyone. The knees are unbelievable large, some 7 feet or more in height.
The total paddling distance through here is probably only 3/4 of a mile. The first 1/4 mile was the most difficult. As we worked our way further in, the channels became larger with fewer obstacles. The water level is quite low. It was below the estimated minimum flow needed according to the Ferguson guide. We did have get out of the boats on a couple occasions to pull them over or through something. Will sunk to his knee in sand during one drag. When we found a place to stop and get on firm ground it wasn't quite a firm as it looked. It was easy to sink in 6 inches or so every step if you weren't careful.
Back in the boats we exit the swamp back into well defined river. At this point you can see 3 distinct channels emerging from the swamp to form one river. Looking at an aerial of the swamp you'll see this also. I'm told that is how the name "Three Sisters" was derived.
Once through the swamp, we begin the search for a suitable campsite. River right is a mass of cypress and knees with no good ground. River left is Cone's Folly owned by Ben Cone of Greensboro. It is well posted and we were sufficiently warned a caretaker patrols it and is never lenient. We saw many suitable spots on the Cone side but each seemed to have more posted signs than the last. We finally stop at a spot on Cone's side. We would have to drag boats over a berm and then camp out of sight. I wasn't comfortable with the situation. Will said he had met Ben Cone once. Will was a mentor of sorts to Ben for a day but Ben probably doesn't remember and Will's phone calls to him went unanswered. We decide to check a little further downriver and paddle back if needed. Will finds a great spot with a wide sandbar just downriver on river right so that is where we camp.
Once set up, I paddled into a cove nearby, surrounded by Cone's Folly on 3 sides. There were a couple monsters (trees) here and some big knees. I also managed to find a nice spot to land and checked out a pine savannah just across the river from our camp. It was a 10 foot bluff so no cypress grew here.
Check out the red tea color of the water above.
This knee is about 6 feet high.
Once again we had a nice campfire. It was dark by 5:30 so it was an early fire too. After a long day I was ready to crawl into the dome early. Sleep came quickly but just as quickly I was awakened by some pesky nocturnal creature. I got up and something ran off which sounded like a deer. Again it was back to sleep. Again, pesky nocturnal creature #2 wakes me. I'm up shinning the light about and spot the bear on the bluff across the river. It just stared back at me as if in a Mexican standoff. Finally it turned and lumbered through the brush. I felt fine, after all there was a river between us. Will pointed out the next morning that river would be nothing to that bear. The river is maybe 50 feet wide and maybe 18 inches deep at its deepest.
Twice more I am awakened by the bear. Once it was making the normal bear sound - a cross between a growl and labored breathing. That time the bear ran off at full speed crashing through the woods, snapping fallen branches as it went. The final time the bear made an odd noise I learned later was a sign of anxiety. It sounded like 2 heavy breaths and then a contented "hmmmmmmm". At this point I figured I never get any sleep but I grew tired of the standoff, crawled in the dome and fell right to sleep, not to wake until daybreak.
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