Thursday, August 13, 2020

Carolina Thread Trail: Andrew Jackson State Park


Carolina Thread Trail: Andrew Jackson State Park – 8/24/19 - 2.5 Miles


Five days home from my Pembrokeshire Coast Path thru-hike in Wales and I felt a little antsy to walk somewhere. Late August in the Carolinas means hot and oppressive humidity, but big storms blew through overnight, a cold front moved in, and today was 70 degrees and misty/drizzling – the P’shire! Jim was busy volunteering as a marshal for the Tour de Turns bike ride, so I took a short drive to a Carolina Thread Trail walk.  

Andrew Jackson State Park is in Lancaster, SC, a quick 35 minutes from my home. I was a little surprised to be the only car in the parking lot on a Saturday morning, but I was here for hiking and the trails were open. [FYI if you’re going, look at the website. Different components have different hours of operation. The park office is open from 11 am to noon (!) and the museum is open 1 pm to 5 pm on Saturday and Sunday. Budget cuts? Short staffing?]


The story goes that Jackson’s father died several weeks before Jackson’s birth, and his widow moved with her children to this area of the Waxhaws to live with her brother, James Crawford, and his family.

I took a quick stroll around the main grounds, checked out the bathrooms, the impressive amphitheater, the schoolhouse and the closed museum. (No structures remain from Jackson's time.)

Replica schoolhouse

“Boy of the Waxhaws,” a sculpture featuring young Jackson by Anna Hyatt Huntington, whose work I've enjoyed on the extensive grounds of Brookgreen Gardens in Murrells Inlet, SC. 

A stone monument to Jackson’s statement that he was born here (to affirm naysayers, I guess)

Replica of a “meeting house” of the Scots-Irish Presbyterian tradition
in which Jackson was raised

The Crawford Trail loop begins beside the meeting house. It’s a one-mile leg stretcher walk, sandy soil with gold flecks, otherwise nondescript, no water feature or views. The trail crosses a paved road, takes a 90-degree left turn at a group campsite (looks like for horses) and crosses the paved road again to return to the trailhead. This early bird caught all the spiderwebs.


Have I seen everything there is to see in just 45 minutes? Of course not. I cruised through the 25-unit campground, happy to see it full on this overcast misty morning, kids’ bikes already riding the circuit as parents coaxed campfires back to life.

The park includes an 18-acre lake with a small fishing pier and a 1.3-mile trail all the way around called “Garden of the Waxhaws Trail.” A counterclockwise ramble around the lake was the best part of my visit. Tree identification signs punctuate the trail. It passes through the campground, which has a small beach. A sign says “do not enter, only for campers” which I ignored, otherwise how can a visitor walk on the trail?


Past the campground, a boardwalk extends through an obvious flood area, beautifully crafted with intriguing curves that draw the hiker along to see what’s next.


Always on the lookout for wildlife, I saw three gleaming white egrets. I disturbed them on one shore, they flew to the other side, and when I reached them again, they returned to the first shore in a huff. Beauty in motion.

Campground across the lake

Visiting Andrew Jackson State Park later in the day is worthwhile for exploring the buildings and the history, but the quiet simplicity of the undisturbed lake in the early hours won me over.

“An early morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.” 
~Henry David Thoreau


Friday, August 7, 2020

Pembrokeshire Coast Path - Day 14: Manorbier to Amroth


Pembrokeshire Coast Path – Day 14 – Manorbier to Amroth – 8/16/16 
16 Miles – 2,550 ft. gain


The rain woke me from an already-restless sleep, wind gusting and loud raindrops that my earplugs couldn’t suppress hitting the picture window beside my bed. I pulled back the curtains to affirm that the weatherman is right today.

Our customary early start meant foregoing the last opportunity for the “breakfast” part of B&B’s but Jim, our host, left goodies in a little fridge outside our door. Once again it was tricky to eat in the room amidst all the chaos, but we got the job done and out the door on time. [A pat on our backs that we never left anything behind at any of our accommodations.]

 

I stepped out the door “rain ready” in my rain pants, rain jacket and pack cover. Danny and I walked through town on roadways to return to yesterday's stopping point. The former Manorbier Army Camp property has been repurposed as a youth hostel and campgrounds. Here we started our final hike on the P’shire. 

Experiences of the prior 13 days manifested on our last day – wet weather, strong winds, route finding through towns, road walking, coffee break cravings, cliffs, beaches and woodlands. What we lacked was low tides, calm seas and sunshine. Ah well…


Back on the clifftops, the fierce wind was familiar and intimidating; we knew there was little chance of it abating (in fact, it did not stop for one minute all day long). A confusing tangle of paths led out to the edge of Lydstep Point, but thankfully the P’shire signposts directed us across the neck of the peninsula and down to a smart little community of caravan homes called Lydstep Beach Holiday Village, an alternative to walking along the beach. The land was once part of elegant Lydstep Estate. I was charmed by the modest attractive homes with a knockout view of Lydstep Haven – what a lovely location for a holiday getaway or, heck, a retirement cottage.

 
Lydstep Manor House

Goodbye, Lydstep, until next time!

Enduring more exposure and sideways rain, I began having a conversation with myself about finding an alternative.  When I looked out where the path was headed, Danny and I began talking out loud and we agreed: let’s find a way inland to a road. Lucky for us, the area encompassing Giltar Point is a rifle range associated with Penally Camp, and at a fence we found signs for an alternative route away from the cliffs.

Giltar Point – no thanks, we’ll pass

At the main road through Penally, we turned right and followed the sidewalk to the New Overlander Inn – if ever we needed a coffee shop, it was now!  We blew into the café sopping wet, commandeered a table and spread out our gear. No doubt we were rude Americans, but I hope we were forgiven.


It was hard to put all that wet gear back on and return to the fray. I knew I would press on and complete the hike, but the mental struggle was real. I recalled our training hike back in May in a downpour on the Mountains-To-Sea Trail and realized, “This is what that was for!” 

Entering the town of Tenby at South Beach

Looking back at South Beach

Looking ahead towards St. Catherine’s Island and Fort St. Catherine

Still avoiding the full force of the elements, we opted to cut through town rather than round the point of Castle Hill. Tenby is a 13th century medieval town, but it’s also a quaint not-too-small seaside tourist town. The sidewalks were bustling with people trying to squeeze a good time out of drenching rain. On a clear day we would have stopped for lunch at a streetside table for two and enjoyed the people parade. Today we were tested to follow little acorn stickers on lampposts. They were easy to see until they weren’t. In this tourist haven we couldn’t find local residents to direct us, so we burned time and some extra calories going back and forth until we hit on an escape route out of town via The Croft, back on the P’shire once again.

Goodbye, Tenby, wish we had gotten to know you! 
Castle Hill and the ruins of Tenby Castle on the left

The Croft is a minor paved road leading out of town, threading between beach parking, campgrounds and small hotels. We spotted public toilets at a car park and hurried down the hill, only to find that there was a pay stile charging 4p to pee! I was not about to dig deep into my backpack to find coins. If I was arrested for jumping the stile, at least I would be locked up in a dry cell.


Alternating from pavement to footpath, we enjoyed passing through lush Lodge Valley’s twisted trees and narrow hedgerows, brief glimpses of the ocean, and more campgrounds and hotels. If only we were guests at one of them tonight! But…

A few steps’ detour to the shoreline to peek at the village of Saundersfoot shrouded in mist. 
On a sunny day (and low tide) we could have walked on the beach from this point 
all the way to the end of the trail in Amroth.

Having pushed past the time we should have eaten lunch, in Saundersfoot we stopped at the first restaurant we saw (The Captain’s Table) for a dry lunch break. Our rain jackets and daypacks dripped in little puddles around our chairs. Once again we packed it all up and stepped outside.

Leaning into the wind and chilling rain, Danny and I pressed on, passing Coppet Hall Point and Wiseman’s Bridge without comment. The last half-mile of our journey was on the beachfront road at Amroth.  Seeing its cheerful (but deserted) shops selling sand toys and ice cream, for a moment I felt transported across the Atlantic to the Grand Strand of Myrtle Beach, SC.

Pembrokeshire Coast Path monument at Amroth

There was no one to greet Danny and me at the monument marking the southern terminus, but we cheered and celebrated our 186-mile accomplishment as though it was being broadcast worldwide. We took photos of each other, but we needed one of us together for the ultimate victory pose. I went to the pub across the road, The New Inn, and asked if anyone was willing to join us in the pouring rain to commemorate two women finishing the P’shire. A woman immediately volunteered, pulled her coat over her head and splashed through puddles to serve as photographer. She seemed as excited as we were! Only later did I realize that she needed the assistance of her cane to get out there.

Elation, exhilaration, jubilation, exultation, all those big words for YIPPEE, WE DID IT! 
This was my favorite part of Day 14!

We entered the pub to cheers and toasts from patrons enjoying the weather through the window. Danny wanted a hot drink and I was ready for my celebratory cider.


Can you believe our accommodations for the night were back in Saundersfoot?  Ah, me. Our taxi retrieved us from the pub and delivered us to Cwmwennol Country House, where we converted our room into a laundry, hanging wet gear on every available knob and peg.


Our B&B did not serve dinner and was not within walking distance to town, so we took taxis to and from dinner at Harbwr Bar & Kitchen. I thought about all those hotels we walked by today. One last delicious meal, one last pint of cider for our Welsh Adventure!

  
The beauty of the Welsh Coast exceeded all my expectations. The Pembrokeshire Coast Path is a moderate hike with a few strenuous sections. Our schedule was ambitious and the hike can be stretched out over more days, which I recommend in order to enjoy more attractions. You can book your own accommodations and be self-supporting, but it was fantastic to have my suitcase waiting for me at the end of each day. I gained confidence that I would be comfortable as a solo traveler on long distance trails like the P’shire, but sharing the journey with Danny was very special.

No matter where I travel, from the backcountry to small towns to large cities, the people I meet are the best part of it all. Everyone we encountered in Wales (even if they weren’t Welsh!) was friendly, curious, interested, patient and helpful. I am grateful for them all.


“It is good to have an end to journey toward; 
but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” ~Ernest Hemingway