Moccasin Creek State Park,
Lake Burton
North Georgia
I had a perfect sleep and awoke just as dawn had begun. I hopped out of bed, tossed on my swimming shorts to meet the day with a casual kayak paddle across the still waters of Clark's Hill reservoir.
Even before a breakfast, I was wielding the boat from atop the car, and just carried it the 150 feet down to the lake; not much more trouble than using the ramp on the other side of the campground. The setting was idyllic, 60-degree air, clear skies, calm waters, the sun lighting up the orange clay that rings the entirety of the lake. Only my kayak broke the calmness of the surface, as the resulting energy fanned out across the vast lake. I made my way up into a cove surrounded by forests. Except for songbirds, there was stillness and calmness all about. I just floated there for more than 20 minutes, taking in the stillness, the solitude.
I discovered a new ingredient to cut the oatmeal blandness - a crumbled up ginger snap wafer.
After breakfast, I drove the car back to the South Carolina side to ride the miles of roads in Hickory Knob State Park. First, I went down to the campground area to examine the viability of their camping arrangements; there was a single camper present. The place looked barely used. Then I rode on up to the lodges and restaurant, all the while enjoying the beauty of the manicured golf course. I got about an hour and a half of good hill riding.
Back at the campground, I had it all my stuff loaded up before 1 o'clock. I returned a third time to Hickory Knob to paddle to an island nearby that could be spotted from the conference center. Their boat ramp was not much better because the water was so low. The island turned out to be nothing as expected. Thick woods, lots of trash and the shore was thick with nasty clay. I made a mad dash back to the ramp because I was getting behind in time. I got about and hour and 20 minutes of hard kayaking under my belt before I was back behind the steering wheel.
I set a course for Tallulah Falls, what appeared to be the closes town to Moccasin Creek campground. I had 2.5 hours to get there. The track took me North-by-North-West along the many and massive reservoirs along Georgia's eastern border. I went through a town called Elberton, which claims to be the granite capital of the world; I think the truth of the matter was in the small writing, "the granite cemetery markers". I wonder what the folks of Vermont might have to say about that. But there sure were a lot of granite companies in town. I have Elberton etched in my mind as the place from which the founder of Daniel Construction was born. That's another story and time in my life (1984, Pam and I moved to Greenville SC).
There was a whole lot of nothing between Lincolnton and Clarksville Georgia. Land must be $50 an acre, cause it looks like no one lives there and there is nothing to do.
I was late arriving at Moccasin Creek. The place was about 1/2 full. I picked the cleanest site available and clean it was. Georgia has access to some of the nicest ground-up stone and sand and they build their sites up so the water runs off. The place was very clean and orderly, but there were about 55 sites on only a 4 acre parcel that had about 200 feet of lake Burton access. The lake was beautiful. There is something captivating about a lake that comes right up to the edge of the woods and hills and mountains, with a few boathouses built right out over the lake.
After a walk about the grounds and out onto the lake dock, the coolness started to settle on my neck. I heated a dinner of cup-of-soup and ramen noodles. It was getting colder by the minute and the hot soup hit the spot.
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