Sunday, October 16, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
5.1 Fall Line South
We've been remiss in documenting our fall line excursions since January. If I can get motivated, I'll write the entries I should have posted in March and April. But maybe not.
Last weekend we traveled down I-95 to Columbia, SC for our niece Courtney's graduation from USC. It was a first visit for both Mary and me. Thanks to the miracle of 3G wireless, I discovered on the drive down that Columbia is located on the East Coast fall line. Like many other cities that developed where a large river or stream crossed the fall ine, Columbia was a key stopover on the colonial Fall Line Road that ran southwest from Fredericksburg, VA to central Georgia.
Two rivers - the Broad and the Saluda - cross the fall line at Columbia. Just below their last rapids, they merge to form the Congaree. Even though our hotel was only about 1/2 mile from the rivers' confluence point, we didn't make it down to the river bank to walk the fall line. Maybe next time.
We did hike the spectacular hardwood forest of the Congareee National Park about 20 miles southeast of Columbia. The park is a swampy floodplain watered by the Congaree River and a variety of lakes. It is an International Biosphere Reserve and contains the largest intact old-growth floodplain forest in North America. On the 2.4 mile swamp trail, we saw many unusual species of birds and plants, with the strangest being the bald cypress knees rising spookily from the water and muck. The park's hardwood trees were the tallest I've ever seen. The loblolly pines and oaks towered to 130 feet or more, supposedly creating the highest tree canopy of any hardwood forest in the world. (The California redwoods and the cedars of Lebanon don't count as hardwoods, I guess.) I would love to go back and take a kayak or canoe tour of the park.
Columbia's fall line bears little resemblance to the DC fall line. Columbia is almost 300 feet above sea level, and the drop from the harder rock of the Piedmont to the softer coastal plain is gentle. Where the Potomac at the DC end of Great Falls is so close to sea level that it is tidal, the Congaree meanders more than 100 miles from Columbia through the SC low country before entering the Atlantic. From space (hint: check Google Maps), Congaree National Park looks much like the lower Mississippi basin, complete with oxbow lakes and vegetation changes that mark decades of multiple river channels.
Last weekend we traveled down I-95 to Columbia, SC for our niece Courtney's graduation from USC. It was a first visit for both Mary and me. Thanks to the miracle of 3G wireless, I discovered on the drive down that Columbia is located on the East Coast fall line. Like many other cities that developed where a large river or stream crossed the fall ine, Columbia was a key stopover on the colonial Fall Line Road that ran southwest from Fredericksburg, VA to central Georgia.
Two rivers - the Broad and the Saluda - cross the fall line at Columbia. Just below their last rapids, they merge to form the Congaree. Even though our hotel was only about 1/2 mile from the rivers' confluence point, we didn't make it down to the river bank to walk the fall line. Maybe next time.
We did hike the spectacular hardwood forest of the Congareee National Park about 20 miles southeast of Columbia. The park is a swampy floodplain watered by the Congaree River and a variety of lakes. It is an International Biosphere Reserve and contains the largest intact old-growth floodplain forest in North America. On the 2.4 mile swamp trail, we saw many unusual species of birds and plants, with the strangest being the bald cypress knees rising spookily from the water and muck. The park's hardwood trees were the tallest I've ever seen. The loblolly pines and oaks towered to 130 feet or more, supposedly creating the highest tree canopy of any hardwood forest in the world. (The California redwoods and the cedars of Lebanon don't count as hardwoods, I guess.) I would love to go back and take a kayak or canoe tour of the park.
Columbia's fall line bears little resemblance to the DC fall line. Columbia is almost 300 feet above sea level, and the drop from the harder rock of the Piedmont to the softer coastal plain is gentle. Where the Potomac at the DC end of Great Falls is so close to sea level that it is tidal, the Congaree meanders more than 100 miles from Columbia through the SC low country before entering the Atlantic. From space (hint: check Google Maps), Congaree National Park looks much like the lower Mississippi basin, complete with oxbow lakes and vegetation changes that mark decades of multiple river channels.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
1.1 Honking Geese
It's been almost a month since we last hiked the fall line. We set out today from the parking lot at Pennyfield Lock Road and headed south on the towpath. Winter has set in with a vengeance. Just the cold, not snow like last winter. This season the storms have spared us, the jet stream guiding them to the south, the east or the north. Richmond, Philadelphia, even Ocean City have had snowfalls. D.C. has had only a couple inches all winter.
There's plenty of ice. We got an inch of snow Tuesday, and much of it is still around, particularly in shaded spots on the towpath. The water in the canal this far north of D.C. is shallow, either drained for the winter or by a break in the levee downstream. Most stretches are less than a foot deep and completely iced over. Small game tracks - mostly rabbit - criss cross the snow-covered ice in random patterns. There are pools of open water where a brook or creek empties directly into the canal and keeps the canal water in motion. Sometimes the tracks go directly into the open water, as if the animal had gone for a swim.
The landscape here is flatter than downstream. There are a few bluffs on the Maryland side with 50 to 75 foot rock faces carved or blasted by the canal makers, but nothing to match Mather Gorge below Great Falls. Long low islands block most views of the Virginia side, which appears to be flatter than the Maryland side.
The Pennyfield Lock area is home to dozens of animals and birds (if you want a sense, see here), but the cold has made most scarce. We didn't see any deer or small animals on our walk, and few birds other than the occasional crow. Near the end, the winter silence was broken by three loud honking flights of Canada geese that glided in for landings on the river and then swam in circles as the sun dropped behind the trees on the Virginia side. Our dog Dakota, on her first walk on the towpath, showed no interest in any of the birds. She did, however, approach every human with her tail wagging. Such a social butterfly.
There's plenty of ice. We got an inch of snow Tuesday, and much of it is still around, particularly in shaded spots on the towpath. The water in the canal this far north of D.C. is shallow, either drained for the winter or by a break in the levee downstream. Most stretches are less than a foot deep and completely iced over. Small game tracks - mostly rabbit - criss cross the snow-covered ice in random patterns. There are pools of open water where a brook or creek empties directly into the canal and keeps the canal water in motion. Sometimes the tracks go directly into the open water, as if the animal had gone for a swim.
The landscape here is flatter than downstream. There are a few bluffs on the Maryland side with 50 to 75 foot rock faces carved or blasted by the canal makers, but nothing to match Mather Gorge below Great Falls. Long low islands block most views of the Virginia side, which appears to be flatter than the Maryland side.
The Pennyfield Lock area is home to dozens of animals and birds (if you want a sense, see here), but the cold has made most scarce. We didn't see any deer or small animals on our walk, and few birds other than the occasional crow. Near the end, the winter silence was broken by three loud honking flights of Canada geese that glided in for landings on the river and then swam in circles as the sun dropped behind the trees on the Virginia side. Our dog Dakota, on her first walk on the towpath, showed no interest in any of the birds. She did, however, approach every human with her tail wagging. Such a social butterfly.
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