W5: Savannah National Wildlife Refuge

June 7th, 2022

Every Step Taken is Another Step

On Tuesday, June 7th, I wandered back to the Greenway. There is a saying that people who encourage one to keep going like to say. “Every step taken is another step closer to your destination.” Those people have never walked a mile in my shoes.

 

I thought I had figured out the major roads and crossroad patterns of the Northwest portion of Savannah during my delay here, but it turns out I was waaaaay off! I knew that the street my hotel was on, Ogeechee Road, ran at a diagonal to the Greenway, and I knew that Victory Drive ran more perpendicular to the Greenway. What I didn’t know is that Savannah has a Victory Street, a Victory Drive, a Victory Road, a North Victory Road, an Original Victory Road, (and who knows, maybe more, but those were the street signs I actually saw). I turned on Victory Street and soon found myself about 3 1/2 miles further from the Greenway than when I started.

Historic Savannah

By the time I found the Greenway, more than half the day had vanished. I must admit though that the beautiful historic district of Savannah was well worth the diverse path the Greenway adopted, and I moseyed along, taking in the sights, history, smells and sounds, while enjoying the cool shade of the gigantic trees that are more than 300 years old.

It must have been past 4 o’clock in the afternoon when I left the historic district and followed the Greenway west (Wait! What?) away from the coast and the Georgia-South Carolina border into Garden City, an economically stricken suburb of Savannah.

Jasper Spring

I walked until the light began to fade. It had been a long day, yet I had made only 8.8 miles of forward progress. I found myself travelling west on Augusta Ave in Chatham County, GA. Augusta Ave had just passed under I-516 and there was a Revolutionary War memorial on one side of the Avenue and an I-516 on-ramp on the other side. You can view the memorial, called Jasper Spring, along with the natural spring for which it is named, by following this link. I walked behind the memorial and liked how it shielded me from the street, so I unrolled my sleeping mat and laid it on the concrete base of the memorial where I slept under the stars. Around 4 am or so I was awakened by a flashlight in my eyes. A city police officer wanted to know who I was, what I was doing, and if I was in trouble. 

Well, I didn’t know if I was in trouble. I figured he would let me know soon enough. So, I identified myself and said I was walking to Maine on the Greenway. “Unfortunately,” I said, “the sun abides by its own schedule and doesn’t pay much attention to where I am or if it is convenient for me when it goes down.” He shown his flashlight over my gear, which was all still packed, except for the sleeping mat, and saw no alcohol, drugs, litter, or any other indicator that I was a troublemaker and told me, “Just make sure you are gone in the morning.” I promised I would and went back to sleep.

June 8th, 2022

Port Wentworth

The Greenway enters South Carolina at Port Wentworth, GA which was maybe six to seven miles ahead of me. Port Wentworth is an inland shipping port that ocean-going container ships can access on the Savannah River.

 

Although I intended to be happy arriving in Port Wentworth, things didn’t turn out as I expected. 

 

As I entered Port Wentworth, I got a flat tire. I was at an intersection that included a convenience store, a motel, and a tire and brake place. 

How to Repair a Baby Stroller Tire

I went into the Tire and Brake place. I was hot, sweaty, red-faced, exhausted by the unrelenting tropical heat that felt 10 to 15 degrees hotter than the 88 degrees it actually was. I told the manager that I had a flat and asked if he had any possible way of repairing it. He said he did not. He suggested that I go somewhere (I didn’t catch, or perhaps don’t remember, where) to buy a bicycle repair kit. I gave him a tired grin (or was it a recycled grin?) and told him about my journey and how going anywhere while pushing a stroller with a flat tire seemed unlikely to succeed. 

 

He apologized and said he didn’t know what he might be able to do for me. “Could you call a supplier to see if you could get a can of that green flat tire goo?” He brightened up at that suggestion and immediately called somewhere and asked about getting some. 

Fix-a-Flat to the Rescue

I sat down in the waiting lobby and quickly dozed off. The manager awoke me maybe an hour later to tell me that the goo worked, my tire was holding air, there was about a half-can of the gel left which I could take with me in case it happened again, and that materials plus labor would cost me $11.00.

 

From the Tire and Brake place, I went to the convenience store and bought a healthy-ish lunch and more water for walking. Although I had set Port Wentworth as my destination goal, my brief rest at the Tire and Brake place had given me another spark of energy. As it was mid-afternoon, with another five or six hours of daylight before evening began to settle in, I decided to keep going. 

Alligator Alley

The Greenway now turned right, for the first time since Savannah heading toward the northeast. This new road was two lanes, with soft, steep, unsafe shoulders, and heavy truck traffic. “Heavy Truck Traffic”, by -the-way, is a double-meaning phrase. It means HEAVY Trucks and it also means HEAVY Traffic. I had to cross three narrow, and somewhat long bridges to cross the Savannah River into South Carolina. Not only did my route finally carry me into South Carolina, it also entered the Savannah National Wildlife Refuge. This 16-mile stretch of SC 170 that passes through the SNWR is known both locally and is marked on the Greenway map as “Alligator Alley”. On either side of SC 170 are miles of swamp. Some of the swamp is also a forest of Bald Cypress trees, Tupelo Gum trees, Water Tupelo trees, Water Oak trees, Swamp Chestnut Oak trees, River Birch trees, and occasionally Pone Pine trees all standing in water.

 

The swamps are home to 15′ long alligators that stand 3 1/2′ tall when walking on land and a half-dozen species of poisonous snakes (Copperhead Rattlesnake, Pigmy Rattlesnake, Timber Rattlesnake, Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake. Cottonmouth aka Water Moccasin, and the Coral snake.

Mosquito Motorway

As darkness threatened to force me to stop for the day, I came to a place where the swamp withdrew from the road by maybe 20 to 50 yards. The location used to be a now-abandoned small parking lot at the Little Black River Trailhead. It was the first location on Alligator Alley with a space wider than three feet beyond the pavement of the road. I decided it would be smart to stop and overnight here. Because the abandoned parking lot was blacktop, I didn’t pitch my tent and again slept on just the sleeping mat without the sleeping bag. It was a decision I would regret for two reasons.

 

First, I was bitten over 500 times by mosquitos. Second, I got cold enough around 4 am that I searched for, found, and used my space blanket which works surprisingly faster and more effectively than I ever imagined it could.

 

At the end of the day, I had walked a total of 10.1 miles and all of them were on the Greenway! Woo-hoo!

June 9, 2022

911

The day started with a water shortage. I thought when I settled down to sleep that I had about 2 liters of water, but I woke up intending to make breakfast out of a freeze-dried breakfast omlet only to find that all the water I had was about 1 liter. Oh, boy. I decided to eat a dry package of instant oatmeal instead. One liter is way too little water to get through the day. I had only two hopes: Get out of the swamps and find a fresher source of water that I could filter and chemically sterilize, or stop traffic or call for help for someone to bring water to me. By 10 am, I had only one option, as I was one swallow of water left and was still in the swamp. I called 911 and asked for water. Within 30 minutes, a K9 Unit patrol car pulled up. He gave me eight half-liter bottles of water and said that the department would check on me periodically through the day. I thanked him and I thanked God for him.

What’s for Lunch?

By 11:30 am I was beginning to feel the effects of my minimalist breakfast. I had already eaten four of my “emergency glucose packs” of trail mix to stave off hypoglycemia. The obvious solution was to stop and make lunch, but stop where? On a 3-foot wide shoulder, with no shade, while locating my cook stove and fuel, and cooking some freeze-dried meal? Not smart. Finally I came to a tree standing close enough to spread shade over the shoulder and simultaneously the shoulder having a shallow enough slope to allow me to park the buggy off the road. I didn’t have enough flat land to set up the stove safely, but I figured that maybe I could take a brief siesta and hopefully awaken with some renewed energy.

I slept for maybe a half hour when I was awakened by a SC Highway Patrol officer. He said I wasn’t doing anything illegal, however, I was doing something very dangerous. He told me about the alligators and the snakes and the close proximity of the highways and the speed and size of the trucks. He also told me that they had received a number of calls about me from wary and/or frightened truckers. I told him about the difficulty of moving through the afternoon heat. He was sympathetic, but insistant that I keep moving, as he was convinced that I needed to worry less about what I would be having for lunch and more conscerned about what was having me for lunch. 

Hello, Four Lanes!

I asked the officer how much further before I encountered civilization again. He said I had about five miles to go, but, he added, in about one mile the road would turn left and become a four-lane road with wider shoulders. I had already polished off about 2 1/2 liters of the four liters given me that morning. Although I hadn’t asked for water, the patrolman brought me six 1/2-liter bottles which I gratefully accepted. I drank one immediately. Refreshed, I got up and plodded on. Armed with the knowledge that wider shoulders were just a mile ahead, I looked for, and spotted, the place on the horizon where the oncoming trucks were making their right-hand turns onto Alligator Alley. My new goal kept my feet moving one after the other and gave me something to focus upon other than the relentless heat.

Yea, Though I Walk

Once I turned onto the four-lane highway, I left the swamp. The wider shoulders and gentler slopes of the runoff ditches were more than welcome, but the trees were now kept too far from the road to offer any shade. Each step felt longer and slower than the last. The shadow of a possible overpass several miles ahead stubbornly refused to get any closer. Maybe a mile, maybe further, down the road the meridian between the two directions of traffic widened and two much older lanes of a previous version of the highway filled it. I crossed when it was safe and walked along this MUCH wider and MUCH flatter abandoned track, drinking water more frequently than anywhere else I had been so far. I was nearing the end of this wider meridian when a block of concrete offered a place to sit and rest for a moment. I sat there, sipping on the last of my sixth liter of water, and recited Psalms 23 with its encouragement to not be afraid and its promises to lie in green pastures and to dwell forever in the house of the Lord.

911 Reprised

When I tried to get up to keep moving, I found that I lacked the energy and strength necessary to push back up to my feet. I thought about having another 1860 miles, roughly, to walk before completing this journey. Totally overheated, totally exhausted, totally discouraged, I decided to “tap out”. My phone battery was at 11%. It was now or never. I called 911 again. This time, they sent a firetruck and an ambulance. They asked me what my normal blood sugar typically had been along the walk. I told them it has been staying between 70 and 140. They took a glucose reading — 74 — and my blood pressure — 130/80 — and decided that I didn’t have a medical emergency. I said, “perhaps not, but if I wait until I pass out or have a stroke, it will be difficult for me to call you to come back.”

 

“Do you want us to take you to the hospital?” they asked.

 

“Will you take my buggy and gear, too?”

 

“No, we don’t have room for that.”

 

I bowed my head and prayed. As I prayed, someone gave me a cold bottle of electrolytes. When I raised my head, I felt better. Not great, particularly, but strengthened. “This would be an easier decision if I could just lay down and rest until it begins to cool off in the evening. If I could just walk at night, I think I could make it to Hardeeville.”

 

One of the EMTs went to the ambulance and came back with a reflective vest. “You’ll need this if you plan to walk at night.” Pointing back at the shoulder of the highway, he added, “You’re out of the wildlife refuge and you could set up a little camp site over in the woods now.”

First Night Actually Camping

I did as they had suggested and crossed from the meridian to the shoulder again. I set the brake on the stroller and stepped into the woods. To my utter surprise, the ground was covered with pine needles six to eight inches deep! I brought the buggy into the edge of the woods and unpacked all my gear, which I carried about 30 to 50 feet into the woods, deep enough to hide me from traffic. There, I cleared a level spot of dead branches and fallen pinecones, hickory balls, and thorny vines, then pitched my tent and proceeded to cook a satisfying meal to bring my blood sugar back up.

 

Checking my Fitbit and GPS, I wrote down my milage for the day: 10.2 miles. I didn’t sleep until evening and then walk at night. I slept until morning and then spent half the day there in the forest, enjoying the constant shade and mosquito netting. When I finally struck camp and repacked my stroller, I realized that I had consumed over seven liters of water on the 9th.

June 10th, 2022

Stroller Wheel, Reprised

I got started moving around noon on Friday. I brought the stroller out of the woods and parked it on the grassy watershed slope next to the highway where I repacked it.

 

As soon as I began walking with it, I noticed that something was wrong. The front wheel had a serious shimmy going on! On inspection, I saw that the axel had unscrewed itself. As you can see in the photo, the chrome nut on the left has knurling for gripping with fingers but the chrome nut on the right does not. The one on the right must be turned with an allen wrench while holding the one on the left to keep it from spinning.

 

I thought I had brought the allen wrench but although I looked in every stuff sack, pouch, pocket, zippered lining, and compartment I could find, no allen wrench could I locate.

No Monkey-wrench

Apparently, you don’t need a monkey-wrench to screw everything up. All it takes is no allen wrench. I rocked the stroller onto its back wheels and walked along the highway with the front wheel in the air. The first indication that I was approaching a population center was two buildings that I reached. One was an indoor gun range. The other was an HVAC shop. It seemed logical to me that the gun range would be most likely to have allen wrenches. So, because it was closer and therefore fewer steps, I went to the HVAC shop.

 

There was no one in the office when I entered. I parked the stroller next to a desk and tentatively poked my head into the shop portion. I saw some trucks, sheet metal, a workbench, and a bathroom. I went into the bathroom and soaked my hat, then put it back on my head and went back to the office. There was now a man and a woman there talking about my stroller. I told them it was mine and I was looking for the boss. They pointed at the ceiling. Going back into the shop again, I noticed a flight of stairs. Up on the second floor I found the owner. He came down with me and looked at the wheel, axel, and nuts, then began searching through the drawers in the desk for an allen wrench.

One Allen Wrench

Just as he was beginning to say, “Nope, sorry… I…,” he cried out, “Ah-ha!” and came over to the stroller with a single allen wrench in his hand. Putting it into the hole in the axel lug, he added, “…and it fits!”

 

“Of course it does,” I said with a grin. “That’s why I’m doing this walk: to show people how much God loves us and takes care of us! My coming into your shop was a miracle. You finding only one wrench and it being the right one was a miracle. And you, sir, are blessed to be a big part of that miracle.”

 

He straightened up after tightening the axel back up and, handing me the allen wrench, he said, “It’s hard to argue with that, son. Thanks for coming in!”

Hardeeville

An hour and a half later found me sitting in a Subway eating a foot-long veggie patty sandwich, followed by checking into a Days Inn for a week (which was cheaper than staying Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights to recharge both my body and all my depleted electrical gadgets.) I had walked a mere 3.7 miles to finish out this grueling week.