Cumberland Island Magic

By Dustin P. Roeb�re

As a wild horse galloped through our campsite and whinnied, the island had already played its magic on us. We were savoring every minute of our stay on Cumberland Island, Georgia. Out of the seven in our party five were making a repeat trip. I already knew how the island would cast its spell on us. I watched each one of my co-trekkers as they began to experience Island Magic; I could feel it as well

Our entourage was split up into two groups, kayakers and hikers. I was leading the kayakers on the four-hour paddle and my co-leader was in charge of the hikers. We would leave Georgia's Crooked River State Park, launching no later than 7am. The hikers had the luxury of sleeping till after we launched our vessels. They would ride the ferry to the Sea Camp on the southern part of Cumberland Island. This luxury came at a higher price. Packs weighting up to sixty pounds would have to be carried twelve-miles to the wilderness campsite of Brickhill Bluff. My gear got to float over but I should not have gloated. My test of endurance would come at the end of the trip.

We had to be very aware of the tide here. There is an eight foot tidal range, which we learned on our paddle back, can be quite wicked. We paddled off directly east into the blinding sun and a light breeze. Our adventure had started, the paddles sliced through the brine with ease. The May sun was warm and pleasant promising a delightful time in the wilderness.

Our first stop was Plum Orchard, which is half way. There is a huge mansion here that is being renovated. It is one of the last historic structures left on the island. The southern part of the island has other historic sights. We were not here to be tourists of historic areas; our destination was the primitive campsite at Brickhill Bluff. True wilderness camping at its best.

From Plum Orchard the Brickhill River flows in a northwesterly direction. After rounding the bend and paddling east again Brickhill Bluff was visible in the distance. Riding low on the water in kayaks made the tree line of the island blend into a small green mass on the horizon. I knew from past experience that I only had to paddle for a little over an hour to arrive at the Lofty Pine Tree. After viewing nothing but salt marshes for several hours it was a pleasure to know that real land was ahead. The Lofty Pine would welcome me with his height in stature and roots bare from years of tidal action.

The paddlers arrived at Brickhill Bluff around noon. We had time to set up camp, rest, and be settled in by the time the hikers rolled into camp about 5pm. The exhausted hikers reprimanded us for our cheerful rested attitudes. Their packs and bodies dropped in heaps to the earth. By sunset the magic had started to transform exhausted hikers into cheerful wilderness campers.

There is so much to do and see here in the wilderness area. Most of the activities deserved a repeat performance but we were only here for four days. In actuality we only had two full days for adventuresome exploration. Our first full day we hiked to the Atlantic beach, its wilderness here is exquisite. The wind blows off the Atlantic with its constant force creating the most awesome dunes. Tan sand blown into a beauty that takes your breath away. The wind is so constant that personal items left lying on the beach are cover with granules within minutes. It was interesting to note that there was a fresh water pond on the beach that was home for an alligator. He was able to exist only a few hundred feet from the Atlantic Ocean.

Saturday found our group splitting up and heading in the same general direction on the north end of the island. It was a several mile hike but the walking was easy and the scenery continued to cast its spell on us. Very little is left of the old Cumberland Island Warf our designated meeting place. Less than a dozen oyster encrusted pilings remain jutting out of the water. The beach sand there is very course with exposed oyster beds along the edge. It was still a beautiful area with a bluff standing several hundred feet above the beach.

We happened to plan the trip during full moon. I could not help but remember other trips I was on during a full moon. The Fakahatchee in the Everglades and Hidden Pond in Ocala National forest to name a few. Again I would plan a hike in the moonlight. Its dappled pattern lighting my way, its presents tapping magically into my emotions. The moon gives off an energy that draws me away from my campsite and onto a trail at night. An awesome experience hiking in the reflected sunlight.

The settlement has a more interesting flair. Carol R. and Bob? live in the old settlement and do sea turtle research. They live in a rustic cabin and have constructed a turtle museum. They do have electric but are very isolated in their wilderness environment. With virtually no neighbors they welcomed our visit and interest in their dedicated turtle research.

In the evenings we would hang our showers in a magnificent old oak tree. While showering we could watch the sunset across the Brickhill River and salt marshes. This is special time of day when in the wilderness. Moisturizing the skin with water warmed by the now setting sun. We would gather in a circle to cook our individual evening meals and talk about the day's events.

Something special happens when we are gathered in our evening circles. We talk to each other with out the distractions of our otherwise civilized environments. A bonding takes place that probably would not happen at home. Not to say that people don't experience a bonding in their homes, it is just magical in the wilderness.

All to soon Sunday arrived and it was time to return to our city lives. I want to stay but realize that I must return and leave the wilderness that I love so much behind. It was time for me to experience my endurance. We left Brickhill Bluff in a very thick fog and the tide was at an all time high. "No Problem," I Thought. "Stick to the river bank, and follow the salt marshes until the fog burned off." Well I was in for a surprise.

The tide was so high that a creek looked as wide as the river. We turned left too soon and ended up back at the island in forty five minutes. It was way to soon to see trees again. We debated on our dilemma and headed back to the river. The lost time was against us as the tide started flowing gently out to sea.

As we headed back into Crooked River we noticed the current. We were about to pay the price for the lost time in the fog. The current was raging as the dock came into view. I stopped for thirty seconds to check on my co-paddlers to make sure they were alright. I lost close to a thousand feet and countless paddle strokes. The current was so swift that I could not stop and it was too late to cross the river to where the paddling would be easier. I was about to be tested for endurance that the backpackers had already passed.

All in all it was a great trip. Testing our endurance is part of the magic of going to a wilderness area like Cumberland Island. We succeeded in accomplishing our goal. We made it to the wilderness and back surviving on the barest of necessities. When I returned form Cumberland Island my soul was refreshed. It really is a magical place.

�Copyright 2002 Dustin P. Roeb�re All Right Reserved