Mud, Mud, Mud!

Trip melt-downs aren't pretty. They are especially bad when you're married to a drama queen. Poor Steve. Poor, poor, Steve. We spent two cold and rainy days in the Ocala National Forest in mid-central Florida. The bush was lovely and the springs crystal clear but it was too cold and wet to enjoy. Also we were surrounded by long-term campers in big trailers and because the campground has no power hook-ups they ran their generators ... a lot. Some ran them in the morning, some mid-day, some in the evening. It was akin to spending the night in a truck stop. We moved on but couldn't escape lots of rain and (relative) cold. At Skidaway Island, near Savannah, most of the campsites were flooded. We found one that was only muddy and considered ourselves lucky. Certainly luckier than the ranger from the Boston Harbor Islands who was tent camping. Last night at Hunting Island State Park, South Carolina, the sites also were flooded. We found a nice spot, right next to the beach, but the power supply had shorted out in the rain. We stayed anyway, running off batteries, because it was a gorgeous location with waves breaking about 40 feet away. It didn't help though, I was still in a very bad mood, one that involved mud, rain, cold and tears.

It's time for us to start working our way slowly north. Steve drained the water tanks in preparation for freezing temperatures and we drove north and west, toward inland South Carolina. I wanted to see Drayton Hall, an historic plantation house owned by the National Trust for Historic Properties. In fact, I've wanted to see it since I first read about it in the 1970s. The house was owned by the Drayton family for seven generations and remarkably they never added plumbing, electricity or heat. As we approached, the sign said open every day but a woman stopped us at the gate. The property was closed due to an emergency. Apparently, four large live oaks had toppled during the night, presumably because of the bad weather. In Savannah, I couldn't see the house I wanted because of tour groups; now Drayton Hall was closed. There were nearby plantation houses but I didn't want to them; I only wanted to see Drayton Hall.  This was not a happy day in the Roadtrek as we took to the road again, still heading north and west.

We drove through lots of southern countryside: churches, adult video shops, collapsed trailers and cotton fields. In the dark grey day, it sure looked glum. We reached our state park destination, in rural Cheraw, South Carolina. Down another dirt road, we arrived at a most beautiful spot. The campground is very small and there are few people here. Of course, it's cold, here in the uplands, and still raining. Our campsite is right on a quiet lake and surrounded by pine woods; it feels like Maine. Many of the buildings here were built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps. We hope to explore tomorrow morning ... if it's not raining too much. 

Photos