First up was a special treat: a canoeing/treehouse adventure on the Edisto River in the South Carolina low country. The Edisto is the longest free-flowing blackwater river in North America. The company Carolina Heritage Outfitters runs a boat rental on the river, with a twist: they own a quite large tract of land on a bend of the river, where they've built three primitive but comfortable treehouses, that can be rented for overnight stays! The standard expedition consists of canoeing 12 miles the first day, staying the night at one of the treehouses, then canoeing 10 miles the second day. So that's what we did!
The Edisto is a beautiful, peaceful river—dark-colored water, wide-bottomed cypress trees, a mix of swampy and forested terrain, the occasional waterfowl or waterside human residence. The river didn't offer too much excitement, but it's nice to enjoy a lazy paddle. The main obstacles were the multitude of trees that had fallen in the river, which we were able to handle with relative ease.
After several hours of canoeing, we were delighted to see the first treehouse (ours) come into view!
We pulled into the conveniently located "driveway," right under the treehouse.
After investigating our charming treehouse, we set off on a little walk around the peninsula, headed towards one of the other treehouses (which were vacant that night—we had the whole place to ourselves.)
Imagine our delight when, upon approaching the treehouse, two kitties came out from under the deck to meet us!
These two cats were certainly the friendliest, cutest, coolest cats I've ever met. (Don't tell Maple.) It looked like they lived on this wild peninsula, perhaps with the occasional human help (visitors like us, or the outfitters staff), but otherwise finding food and shelter as they needed. But despite their survival skills and outdoor-savviness, the cats were incredibly friendly: they would follow us around everywhere, rub against our legs, jump on a lap, snuggle with us and each other, and seemingly enjoy every second of life.
We gave them some (nice Shakespearean) names: Orlando and Olivia. We think Olivia was Orlando's mother.
Here's Heather indulging Orlando.
The dashing Orlando.
I was sitting with just Olivia on my lap, and Orlando jumped up and nestled in too.
As we headed back to our own treehouse (a 5 minute walk away, but across several bridges and through some twisty paths), we noticed that the kitties were following along, loitering for a bit then running to catch up with us, and then dashing ahead as we reached our treehouse.
That night was Thanksgiving, and as the light faded we went to the torch-lit deck overlooking the water to cook and eat our meal.
We had packed a huge amount of food to roast up on the treehouse's propane grill: lamb kabobs, sweet potato fries, grilled vegetables and pineapple, and bread. Of course, we had a heck of a time trying to keep the kitties away from the food. Everything was delicious—what a Thanksgiving feast!
After a cozy night in the treehouse loft (we shut the kitties outside, or else they would have slept with us… though, Orlando did join me when I went on a midnight run to the outhouse), we cooked a huge, delicious breakfast on our indoor propane stove.
For breakfast, we again shut the kitties out to keep the sausage safe, but we made sure to share a bit of the Thanksgiving spirit with them.
Here's dear Olivia with her voluminous green eyes.
Heather and Orlando outside the treehouse door.
Kittehs.
The cozy interior of the treehouse.
Name me another cat that enjoys doing things like this…
That morning, we wanted to spend more time enjoying the treehouse peninsula, so we headed out for a walk. Of course, the kitties followed.
Cypress tree
Jungle cats
In order to reach Treehouse #2, we had to cross this stream on a log. What's challenging for humans…
…is easy for adventurer cats.
I'm not sure how the kitties usually found food, but they knew how to get water.
Orlando leading the way to Treehouse #2.
Heather on a stump seat
OK, I placed Orlando on here, but he enjoyed being up there.
Heather and I relaxed in the hammock while the kitties washed themselves nearby, but soon our friends jumped up and joined us. (Name me another cat that enjoys being in a hammock…)
Coming back over the log bridge. Olivia was in front, sauntering across, and Orlando the acrobat finally got impatient and, while still on the log, LEAPED over his mother! The second photo captures his perfect landing. Olivia hardly noticed.
More leaping Orlando, as he bounds through the jungle to catch up to us.
Starting to pack up, to get back on the river.
Treehouse interior from the sleeping loft.
Playing.
Canoe cats
As we took a last trip to the outhouse, the cats followed us, but then lingered when we turned back.
Before the cats could come back and charm us yet again, we made a swift getaway in the canoe. We missed them almost immediately, but, well, you just have to put those things behind you!
Lunch spot
Cypress swamp
Letting the Mrs. do the steering…
The take-out spot at the outfitters' HQ.
After docking our canoe, we drove the remaining hour to the coast, and checked into a B&B in Folly Beach, just outside Charleston.
For dinner that night, we went to what can only be described as an oyster dive restaurant. It was located in a ramshackle house on an inlet of the sea at the end of a dead-end driveway. It took us forever to find, as there were no signs on the main road and we had to drive about a half mile down an unmarked, unlighted gravel road. It ended up being quite the lowcountry experience: dirty, rowdy, and dilapidated, but with an ancient weathered black guy bringing in shovelful after shovelful of crusty, just-boiled oysters (which were likely freshly harvested that day, from within a mile of the shack) to hungry, sweet-tea-slurping customers in the chilly, cluttered shelter.
The next day, we headed into the fascinating city of Charleston!
From the waterfront, we could see the decommissioned aircraft carrier on the other side of the Ashley River (part of a naval museum exhibit).
Charleston is known as "America's Best-Mannered City."
Charleston was once the richest city per capita in the nation (though I'm sure that's NOT including slaves), and its countless beautiful mansions attest to that. Here's Heather on The Battery, one of the ritziest areas in town.
Across from White Point Gardens. As you can see, the bigger the porch, the better.
After lunch at a French cafe, we stopped at another trendy cafe for some delicious desserts: Bailey's/Cookies & Cream milkshake and a many-layer "autumn" cake.
A must-do in Charleston is to visit one of the city's historic homes. We toured the Aiken-Rhett house, which was an urban plantation: the family living there owned many slaves, but in contrast to the usual image of slaves working in cotton or tobacco fields, these slaves would be cooks, carriage drivers, butlers, etc.
Charleston was the center of the American slave trade—something like 75% of American slaves arrived in the port of Charleston—and this sad fact is engraved in the city's identity. But it's great that museums like the Aiken-Rhett house make efforts to describe the lives of ALL of Charleston's past residents in all honesty. I found it very enlightening to see the actual "preserved, not restored" rooms, buildings, tools, and memorabilia that filled the starkly different lives of wealthy Charlestonians and their slaves in the 19th century.
They didn't allow photography in the house, but here's the outside.
Before we lost daylight, we took a walk up a section of a new bridge over the Ashley River that features a nice (though noisy, next to traffic) bike/pedestrian trail.
The Port of Charleston from the bridge.
Sunset over Charleston
Charleston's current claim to fame, besides its opulent houses, is its reputation for fine dining. Dozens of top-notch restaurants line the streets of downtown Charleston, and so that night we were lucky to finagle a table at one of the hottest restaurants in town, Slightly North of Broad (aka SNOB.) It was a delicious and fun night!
The next day, we walked from our B&B out to Folly Beach Pier to enjoy the sea view one more time before having to take off.
On our way out of the area, we stopped by a local landmark: the freak of nature known as the Angel Oak Tree! It's a huge, twisted mass of monstrous limbs, many of them resting on the ground or on man-made supports, reminiscent of two intertwined yew trees that we saw in Ireland in summer 2008.
So, if the descriptions and excess of photos haven't convinced you, rest assured that Heather and I had a wonderful mini-moon!
2 comments:
Dear former housemate,
"These two cats were certainly the friendliest, cutest, coolest cats I've ever met.(Don't tell Maple.)"
This is Maple. No-one need tell me anything. I am perfectly capable of browsing the blogs on my own and maintaining my dignity in the face of "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." To be, or not to be, the coolest cat on Earth -- that is the question. And I am firmly ensconced in the pantheon of cool cat-dom, whatever my critics may say. "For who would bear the whips and scorns of time... the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love..." when she knows well what a beautiful bare bodkin she beareth? [OK, I know full well that some people think a bare bodkin is a dagger. Fie upon't! Shakespeare clearly was thinking of his beloved, full-bodied cat, a direct ancestor of yours truly.]
So enough with your Shakespearean names and faithless ways. The play's the thing, and when you're in Poughkeepsie and playing with me again, you will see who the friendliest, coolest cat ever really is -- that is, if I deign to play with you again after such a blog post.
"O, most wicked speed, to post with such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not, nor it cannot come to good. But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue!"
Your once-admired, twice-scorned [first your brother with his Oliver, and now you with your Orlando and Olivia -- what is it with all these O-names?] friend,
O-Maple
P.S.: Bring excellent cat treats when you visit, if you desire my companionship.
Maple
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