NORTH CAROLINA: KAYAKING TO THE THREE SISTERS SWAMP ON THE BLACK RIVER

 October 2022

My son Sam proposed that he and I have an adventure while I was visiting him in North Carolina--a kayaking trip. 

"Sure!" I said. "Sounds like fun!"

Clearly I had no idea what I had agreed to. 

The adventure started with a 120-mile south-southeast late afternoon drive to Wallace, North Carolina (population 3,300 and elevation 52 feet), where we had what turned out to be a very nice hotel for the night. On our way we passed field after field of ready-to-harvest cotton. What back-breaking labor THAT must be.

The next morning we got up very early and drove to the launch area of the Black River, arriving just before sunrise. The 50-mile-long Black River is a tributary of the Cape Fear River.  A "blackwater" river is one with a lot of vegetation decay that releases tannins in the water, making the water appear dark and brackish. While this kind of water will not support most hardwood tree species, it does create a unique environment that can't be found in other places.

We walked around a bit, admiring the scenery and appreciating the stillness. For a tributary river, the water seemed eerily motionless--much more like a lake or pond than a river.

Then we met up with our group of about eight or ten other adventurers--all men but me. I had assumed I would be in a double kayak with my son, but there were only single kayaks. The guide looked at me skeptically and asked if I had kayaked before. Yes, several times in the ocean.  I was to learn that kayaking in a river with almost no current is a lot different than kayaking in an ocean where the waves move you along.

How hard could it be? I figured I would just stay on Sam's tail and I would be fine.

We were headed for the Three Sisters Swamp, a remote area accessible ONLY by kayak or canoe.

Just keep up with Sam, keep up with Sam, keep up with Sam . . .

Gotta catch up, gotta catch up, gotta catch up . . .

Our guide (on the left) pointed out interesting sites along the way. Note how shallow the water is. No motorboats on this river, that's for sure. Even two in a kayak might be a problem.

The river began to narrow substantially, and there were often small islands that had to be navigated around.

The water was very clear, but the rusty riverbed was very unusual.

There began to be many obstacles to steer around, and sometimes little rapids would form around trunks or rocks, and it was tricky (for me) to get through passages that were only about the width of my kayak. The guide would be yelling, "Back pedal!" or "On the OTHER side!" in exasperation, and occasionally he had to come help me. "I thought you said you had kayaked before," he snarled. Oh what fun.

After a few hours of bicep- and back-breaking paddling, we finally arrived at the Three Sisters Swamp, a 1.5-mile stretch of the river lined with and punctuated by bald cypress trees. It was so shallow that we could park the kayaks and walk around, rarely getting in deeper than mid-calf.

These bald cypress trees are the 5th oldest living things on earth. Many of them are over 1,000 years old, and some are over 2,000 years old. There are some conservationists who think there might be a few trees that are 3,000 years old in the area but that just haven't been discovered yet.

I think this is Tree 2624. The number refers to its age in 2018 when it was discovered, which means that it was "born" in 606 BC. Incredible. It isn't the tallest or fattest tree in the swamp, but so far it is the oldest cypress tree that has been identified in the area. 

The bulges and twists on the trunks . . . 

. . . and the "knees," which are woody protuberances that rise from the root system, create a bizarre landscape.

Walking among these ancient swamp denizens felt like walking through a sci-fi movie set.

Even the algae, with its swirling patterns and fluorescent green sheen, seemed to have an outer-space quality.

Many of the trees are hollow inside, and yet the outside layers continue to live and grow.

It was pretty fun wading around in the cool water.

Same photo closer up so that you can see that I AM smiling, not grimacing.

Long before my aching arms and back were ready, it was time to go. As Robert Frost put it, we had "miles to go before [we slept]." 

Keep up with Sam, keep up with Sam, keep up with Sam.

But every now and then I just had to stop, not only to give my body a rest, but to take in the haunting beauty of this remote bit of the planet.

In the end, I was not the last one to the dock. Maybe the men were hanging back and being polite in letting me think I was keeping up with the pace, but it sure felt good not to be the caboose. All told, we did eleven miles of paddling with almost zero current to help us along.

When I tried to get out of my kayak, I looked so pathetically exhausted that Sam had to come pull me out. Although we had driven out in my rental car (and he was not listed as a driver), he took the keys refused to let me drive back to his home. It was a good thing because my arms and shoulders seemed to have stopped working.

Surprisingly, I felt pretty good the next day. Not bad for a woman in her 60s, I thought. But would I do it again? Heck, no.

Still, what an adventure! I'll never forget this mother-son bonding experience on the Black River with all of its unexpected sights and surprises and challenges.  Am I glad I did it? Heck, yes!