Savvy

Yesterday I was the bossman's first mate as I accompanied him on a float down the Enoree River. It was my first time (on the Enoree) as we had floated the Tyger River as teen-agers. We packed a light lunch and took the camera along in case we stumbled across any wildlife or hillbillies and headed out early that morning.

Our put in spot was about seven miles from the covered bridge where we'd end up down river. A short trip, but still about four to five hours. The river level is very low, of course, so we expected major delays but we still moved at a pretty good speed. Our first stretch was nice and relaxed until we hit the first bend and saw the first of many headaches before us.
Enoree has had at least two floods in the last several years, so you can imagine the aftermath in the river...that's right, big trees, big, long, tall, trees and logs...so we did get out on more than one occasion and I found myself straddling one tree while we pushed the boat underneath and then hopped back in. Anyway we could get around the mess, we did it!

Finally, the last leg of the trip was easy sailing or boating or john boating or floating or whatever you want to call it. I found myself sporadically yelling out pirate phrases whenever I'd have to paddle or row really hard to get around logs....by the end, we were in the flat, dead water that you have to move yourself or you'll just sit with the catfish (no pun intended) if you don't paddle. Along the way, we saw several mallards, a few cranes, a hawk or two, one very interesting hornet's nest (that the bossman wanted to collect and put in our dinghy and I politely refused) and some very sketchy inhabitants along the river to which we weren't sure how or where the humans got to these spots...driveway? I expected to hear the banjo in the distance, it certainly was fitting!After a quick stop on a sand bar for lunch, we headed out again and only to find that our cellphones were ringing (and they never ring for that matter!) I did find time to answer one call from my brother in Wyoming, who was very confused to find me floating the river in December...weather in the South is just that predictable.
We made it to the covered iron bridge and found a little spot underneath where a vagrant or hobo had been living....food, firewood, everything he needed--even a little note on a stick for someone to find, telling them that "he'd be back there and he'd do ******** for money" (for censorship reasons, if you are interested in what the note said, just email me).
Needless to say, we got the duck out of there...

All of this and more to confirm any suspicions or doubts as to why we do call this: West Virgenoree.