In-Tune with Nature

Went for a run on one of my favorite trails this morning. For most of the duration of the run I found myself thinking of a post that I read entitled: “A still small voice” that Wretchard has put up over at the Belmont Club. It’s a brilliant post and I strongly recommend it. Basically he notes that certain people, Mangyan tribesmen in this case, can sometimes comprehend things that are unseen and unspoken. Wretchard writes much better than I, so here he is summing up psychologist Julian Janyes’ theory of the bicameral mind: “……Jaynes' theory intriguingly suggests that hunches, guesses and intuition may hold some validity.”

Wikpedia Article :
"Jaynes asserts that until roughly the times written about in Homer's Iliad, humans did not generally have the self-awareness characteristic of consciousness as most people experience it today. Rather, Jaynes argued that the bicameral individual was guided by mental commands believed to be issued by external "gods"—the commands which were so often recorded in ancient myths, legends and historical accounts; these commands were however emanating from individuals' own minds. This is exemplified not only in the commands given to characters in ancient epics but also the very muses of Greek mythology which "sang" the poems: Jaynes argues that while later interpretations see the muses as a simple personification of creative inspiration, the ancients literally heard muses as the direct source of their music and poetry."

Wretchard goes on to relate this phenomena to something he’s felt recently: “My own hunch is that in the last two or three months there's been a change in the tone of the blogosphere. Nothing definite, simply a change in atmosphere in proportion to the degree of abstract tendencies of the blogger.”

Now the theory of the bicameral mind is certainly interesting, though I believe it has fallen somewhat out of favor in recent years but a point that came across to me while reading this post and while running this morning was that there is much to be heard if we just ‘tune-in’ and listen. On my run I began to concentrate on the wind and the sound it was making blowing through the trees. I do this frequently on runs, especially when I find myself thinking of how tired I’m becoming. I’ve actually gotten to the point that I can tell the type of a lot of the trees that surround me just by listening to the sound the wind makes blowing through them. My favorite are the Pines. They sound kind of soft like a whisper. Oaks and broad leaf trees make more of a rustling sound. While I was thinking of the various sounds emanating from the trees and trying to decide what they most sounded like and how I interpret them, I began to imagine that the ancients (and perhaps the Mangyan tribesman as well) were just doing what comes natural, being aware of their environment. Unfortunately, most working people don’t get out in nature enough to re-tune their senses. Most people who make their living outdoors or those who just spend a good proportion of their time outside have probably retained some of this ability. I think of fisherman who say that changes in the behavior of fish and waterfowl portend weather changes. Or who begin to notice earlier than the rest of us the slight change in wave amplitude and know bad weather is coming. Of course, while thinking to myself how interesting nature is and how much it has to tell us if we just listen, I didn’t notice until it was too late that a quick but rather intense storm was bearing down on me. When I finally noticed it, I was too far into my run to take a quick trail back to the car! So I got drenched while trying to stay on trails that ran low and off elevated areas to escape the lightening. So much for being “in-tune” with nature. Lesson learned: Utilize some good old fashioned 21st century technology and check the hour-by-hour weather report on the internet prior to any long runs!

North Santee to Cedar Island '05

I had been wanting to do a small expedition length paddle for some time and finally on the first full weekend in May '05 when the weather permitted I set out with a buddy of mine to paddle down part of the N. Santee River, out into the Atlantic and explore some of the fine barrier island SC has to offer. I had to rent a truck with kayak carrying capabilities since the Jeep is passed her days of performing any endurance events (she gets really hot and a little weezy on the long hauls and is mostly good at quick sprints to the grocery store) so we were a little behind schedule and didn't get rolling until around 10:00AM. When we finally arrived in the picturesque little town of McClellanville to drop a car off at the public boat landing that would be our take-out we had the good fortune of arriving right as the town's largest annual festival was getting under way. The entire road leading to the landing was shoulder-to-shoulder with pedestrians. So we went to 'Plan-B' on the fly and dropped the car off at the Ranger's HQ which was about 2 miles away. We then drove about 15 min N on Rt. 17 to Poleyard Landing, took down the kayaks and loaded everything we'd need for 48 hrs of paddling. Paul launched first and after making sure I had all my gear and checking that the fore and aft "water-tight" compartments (which as it turned out weren't so water-tight, but more on that later) were sealed, I followed. It felt great to finally be on our way and since we were headed down stream and the paddling was easy I took the opportunity to take a couple of photos. The first is looking down river (that's Paul motoring off in the distance) and the second is looking back up river to Rt. 17 overpass where we put in.

After about 30 min of paddling we saw our first alligator after that we saw them with increasing frequency. After coming around a blind bend in the river we spooked a few gators that had been sunning on the shore one of which was the largest one I've ever seen. I had no idea they got that big in SC! Needless to say I have no photos due to the fact I was maneuvering my boat at breakneck speed as far away from that fella as humanly possible. After that I made it a point to stay in the middle of the river. About 1.5 hrs into the paddle I took this shot of the beautiful Santee Delta.


Finally after about 4 hrs of paddling we got our first glimpse of the Atlantic. The land mass you see in this next photo that's slightly to the left of the nose of my boat is Cedar Island. Left of that the land mass with the sandy beach visible is South Island.

About an hour later we arrived at Cedar Island and as you can tell from this next photo there was little to no surf to manage so we casually glided on in and beached. I was a little disappointed in the amount of trash that we saw, most of which looked as if it may have fallen off of boats.

This next photo is looking SE at the beautiful Atlantic. If you look real close you can just make out the tip of Cape Island on the far-right hand side of the pic.

The boats and Paul replacing calories.

Plenty of interesting sights to behold on Cedar Island. Like this entire tree that was washed ashore. Almost fossil-like.



"Home" for the night.


Sunset on Cedar Island.

Just big enough to keep the 'skeeters' away.

Looking across the mouth of the N. Santee at South Island.


After having a little dinner and going over the Topo maps for the next day's paddle we turned in. About 2 hrs later we were awaken by the deep gurgling bellows of a gator that sounded rather large and far too close! I have to admit I wasn't as well informed on alligator behavior as I probably should have been and didn't know if bellows like that were for the ladies or were a sign of aggression, and I certainly didn't want to be devoured like meat and bean stuffing in a tent burrito, so we scampered out (BTW 2 grown men attempting to quickly exit a 2-man tent at 0330 is quite a feat). That guy kept it until almost sunrise. Not much to do but sit there and listen to him go on so I took another photo. Here's Paul, looking exactly like someone is supposed to look when roused from a peaceful slumber at 3:30 in the morning.


Sunrise over South Island.

Dolphins running the shallows looking for breakfast........At least I hope those are dolphins!


About an hour after this last photo was taken we launched in surf that was a bit more rough than what we experienced the day before but after a few tries we timed it right and were underway. We paddled parallel to Cedar Island crossing the S. Santee mouth where it got fairly rough then had to go about 1 mi offshore to skirt some breakers as we paddled along Murphy Island. At this point Paul got a visit from a fish that was trying to be a little too friendly as it jumped smack into his lap! We paddled a good 4 hours before finally making it to Cape Island where we had planned to get out and stretch. I attempted to land first and was being much to casual about it as I had both feet out of the cockpit resting on top of my boat and thinking I had timed the sets of waves perfectly when I heard one chasing me down. It started turning the back end of the boat around my left side and at this point my rudder was useless b/c I couldn't control it with my feet ON TOP of my boat and she rolled me. I quickly jumped up only to realize why they say NEVER put your boat between you and the approaching surf - I had bruised shins for a month. I got the boat under control pulled it ashore and then discovered my water-tight compartments weren't so water tight. The worst news was the camera which was not only in the "water-tight" compartment but in my "water-proof" map case was soaked and ruined. The really bad thing was, it was Paul's camera!

Eventually I got most of the water out of my boat launched again (better performance this time) and we continued to paddle parallel to Cape Island. We got almost to the end of it and realized there was no way we could round it and come back up into Muddy Bay due to the large breakers so we beached and portaged across Cape Island. Saw a huge dead sea turtle on the way and then had to negotiate knee-deep muck to reach the water on the bay side. We finally got on our way again having to fight a tough tide that was receding in very shallow water no less and eventually picked our way through the marsh (paying very close attention to the Topos at this point), carefully crossed the intercoastal waterway and arrived at the McClellanville public boat ramp, tired but content. We then hoofed it the two miles to the Ranger's station, picked up the truck, came back, loaded the boats and headed home with a quick stop at KFC to grab some tasty chicken for the ride home.

I'd recommend this trip to anyone who has moderate experience with paddling and is fairly competent at reading Topos (b/c finding your way through the marsh back to McClellanville can be tough).