Tuesday, January 5, 2016

January 4, 2016 Hamilton Branch: A Washout and a Road Trip

Nine a.m. and driving down Hwy 56 with black cows in green fields,  red horses lined up in a pasture, dark ancient cedars lining the country roads, flamingo colored flowering quince already in bloom.   It is cold and we are expecting our first freeze tonight.

Past Belfast Plantation, a church sign reads:
"Tell someone you love them
While you have time"

I pass Persimmon Hill Golf Club with a sparkling pond and across from it in a field, a beautiful palomino, tossing its mane like a movie star.

I am in Edgefield County, the birthplace of Strom Thurmond, the embodiment of the southern contradictions of his time. There is Strom Thurmond High School, the Strom Thurmond Tech Center, surrounded by acres and acres of peach orchards.

In Edgefield, there is a pink and purple Japanese Magnolia with thousands of blossoms preening against the sky.  The town square is shining with Christmas decorations on the lamp posts, a tall bejeweled  Christmas tree in front of the county courthouse. A statue of Strom Thurmond reaches out toward it and behind him is the Confederate Memorial obelisk.  On the sidewalk, a colorfully painted four foot tall turkey.

I stay on Hwy 23, bear right at the Westwide Volunteer Fire Deptment towards Modoc, into the Sumter Forest and over Stevens Creek. Suddenly Hwy 23 ends and in front of me is the Modoc Thrift Store, a place of all manner of dusty objects.  The sleepy proprietor dressed in hunting attire tells me to turn right on Hwy 221 and Hamilton Branch State Park is two miles on the left.

So it is.  The gate is locked. There is no way to get in but walk around it.  I walk to the Ranger's house and he tells me that the park is closed indefinitely because it is flooded. The Army Corps of Engineers say that the Upcountry lakes of Hartwell, Jocasse and others are brim full and have yet to release more water downstream.  I beg him to let me walk the trail, but he says it is ankle deep in water.

Returning on Hwy 221, I can see Lake Thurmond (of course) is overflowing  its banks. The park is on a peninsula.  I pass Catfish Creek Peninsula and Dorman Creek Ramp and come to the town of Plum Branch. It has a yacht club.  I have never passed this way before.  It is an adventure, no hike, but an adventure still.

I am astonished to discover Eden Hall Plantation on my left, facing Long Cane Road, a two and a half story soaring brilliantly white house established in 1854. Nearby is Tranquil Church and later Hwy 10 shoots off to the left and it is called Promised Land.

How the early settlers dreamed of their new paradise.

The sky is cold, clear and blue. The year is full of promise.  I am listening to Joe Diffie on the car radio:

"Prop me up beside the jukebox when I die
Lord, I want to go to heaven
but I don't want to go tonight.
Fill my boots with sand
Put a stiff drink in my hand

Prop me up beside the jukebox when I die

Just let my headstone be a neon sign
Just let it burn in memory of all my good times......

Prop me up beside the jukebox when I die..."

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