A Living Magazine - Day 210 - Homecoming - Taylors to Lyman

Love it when things work exactly as they should! I woke up to a bit of rain falling on the tent at about 6:30 a.m. It was also obvious that it had rained overnight. I could see through the tarp that it was covered with rain drops. I just turned over and went back to sleep. Estimates were that it would clear up by about noon. Waking again at 8:00, I opened the tent flap to see a light but steady sprinkle across the grassy reservoir below. I zipped the flap shut and went back to sleep, finally waking at 10:00 to golden spots projected onto the tent by the morning sun as it burned off the clouds. It also completely dried the tarp; a weight off my mind.

I packed up the tent slowly, enjoying my relative privacy and making sure each item fit just right. When I was ready to go, I took a picture of the spot. I still felt good about finding it. I wished I could roll up the situation and carry it with me...  

Nice layer of fallen branches. This made a great cushion

Here is a look back toward the area from the road view.

I stopped at a Burger King just up the street and got a post published. It had good Wi-Fi, maybe because it was linked to a gas station. Usually Burger King can be a bit sketchy for getting online. I had a lot of walking to do, so I got to it.

Walking until it got dark, I stopped in at a Ryan's (a steak and buffet place I'd tried in Anderson--great prices). A nice server named Steph took care of me and I left her a business card. 

You know, just as a side comment, restaurant servers work really hard for their money. In my opinion, they should always be treated with great respect and kindness (which, for me, means at least a 20% tip--I do 20%, plus whatever change brings the total to the next even dollar). 

I see people not thank them for each duty they perform and it really irks me. And, people here say, "I need..." or "I want..." or "Give me..." when they order. I guess everybody must be used to it--and I am getting used to hearing it, but in Maine (usually), it's "May I have..."

The only time I ever worked in a restaurant (the Down-East Village on Route 1 in Yarmouth, Maine, when I was about 17) I did dishwashing and bussing. Gawd, I hated that job so much. It was like $4.00 an hour. I know how crazy the business can be. Please think about your server as a person and not a slave next time you order. You may find that you get better service, and you sure will make his/her day a better one. Okay...end of sermon. Ha!

When I left, again--as with the last night, I had no blooming idea what I was going to do about a sleep spot. I had a low resolution image of some tree-filled areas up ahead, but no real sense of how far they were, nor what kind of areas they'd be in. Unless you get down close to the ground on Google Earth, or use Street View, everything looks flat from the satellite's perspective. Milage is "as the crow flies"; not taking hills into account. This highway (29) is a constant series of hills and valleys. I just took my chances and relied on the Spark... 

Route 29 heading east.

As with the night before, I saw potential spots. One looked particularly good--a steep ten foot embankment with nothing visible at the top, clean, pine needle floor, no bushes to wade through. But when I reached the road that ran beside it, and looked down, I noticed there was an entire neighborhood set right back behind that bank. It would have been a waste to try and I'm glad I didn't.

The pack was getting very heavy, the temperature was diving, and the hour was late. I knew the sleep spot would materialize soon. In a very dark section of the highway was an array of large power poles that ran across it diagonally. I noticed there was a small dirt road that led up and into their path.

Now, power line paths always seem like a good option, but I have learned that the path they cut across the landscape could also be called a "coyote highway." As we've seen in this blog, coyotes are not much for the thick woods. They like the edges of fields and more open space. They will venture into the woods a little ways but generally stay out. I took the chance and walked up the road about 50 feet, then saw a really messed up little trail to my right and turned to walk along it, occasionally tripping over fallen logs. It led parallel to the road, down a hill toward the deeper forest and a river way at the bottom.

There were quite a few unlevel spots. But, I've learned to be picky. Those are a last resort. Eventually, I came upon a sunken bed of leaves on the hill, just the width of the tent. I kicked and cleared the sticks and pine cones out of the way, also moving a mid-sized log. 

The forest was silent, but I felt like I was being watched. I brushed off the feeling and completed the tent assembly. My little LED light's switch was broken, but if I clicked it just right it would turn on. I had to cover it with my hand and let only a bit of light shine through my fingertips, because the road was only about thirty feet away...

Unfortunately, I noticed that just below the surface of the leaves, the forest floor was very damp; this included under the tent. Didn't matter to me at that point. My worry that it might be cold was overtaken by my need to sleep. I climbed in, pulled out the sleeping bag and slid into it. Immediately, I felt warm. The bag is really a pleasant change after walking in the cold. The wet leaves below me were cold at first, but as I began to drift to sleep, I noticed that my body was heating them up. It was a nice effect I'd never really noticed before.

I slept for a couple of hours, when I heard large foot falls about twenty feet away, down the hill near the river. My flap opened in the opposite direction, so I couldn't sneak a peak. Whatever it was, it was also large. Big branches broke around it. I thought it might be a human, because the steps were very slow, deliberate and almost soft sounding. But it was four legs, not two. I could not imagine what kind of animal it could be. Deer walk, then stop; walk, then stop. Sometimes they run away. They often huff loudly, bark, or stamp on the ground. Also, their hooves are sharp. They don't step down on fallen mid-sized branches heavily, breaking them. 

The only other animal would be a bear. I had checked out South Carolina a couple weeks ago for wolves. Except for one example of a coyote/Canadian grey wolf hybrid spotted near the Savannah River in 2014, there is no evidence of wolves in South Carolina. Even the hybrid coyotes (which are mostly dog hybrids) are not as prevalent as smaller, purebred coyotes. I had not thought of doing a search for bears.

The animal meandered close then far, then close again, then moved quickly away when a large truck went by next to me. I never heard it again this night. I now--having researched a bit, cautiously, hypothesize that it might indeed have been a bear. Though unlikely, according to South Carolina's Department of Natural Resources (DNR), Spartanburg County has had a fair amount of black bear sightings in recent years (20-39 in 2014). I fell back asleep, a little more vigilant about where I was.

Lyman Sleep Spot.


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