Palmetto Trail: High Hills of Santee and Lake Marion Passages

I wake up at the leading edge of civil twilight, just before 7 a.m. Even though the solstice has passed, the days are still short, and I need to cover at least 20 miles to get to a legal primitive campsite on the Lake Marion Passage. So I consume my delicious breakfast of Skurka Coconut Chia Oatmeal and coffee, then hit the trail caffeinated and full of healthy goodness.

I enjoy walking through the twisty turvy trail network of Poinsett State Park, and the rolling path warms me up quickly. I see a deer on the ridge ahead of me, as well as a couple of trail runners. After leaving the state park, the trail enters Manchester State Forest again, and I cross paths with two men hiking in the opposite direction. One of them is wearing an orange beanie, and I don’t feel quite as ridiculous in my orange attire overload that’s probably visible to the crew on the International Space Station (which is intentional since it’s always some sort of hunting season in South Carolina).

I cross through a denuded field, stripped bare of every living thing it seems. There are many areas like this on the Palmetto Trail, and I assume some type of timber is harvested in these barren landscapes; but it makes me sad to see the earth wearing these scars.

Eventually, the trail morphs from dirt and pine needles to sand….lots and lots and lots of soft, deep sand. It’s slow going the last couple of miles of this passage. I rename it (as I’m sure many have done before me) “High Hills of Sandee.” A group of horseback riders approaches from the opposite direction, and I wonder if the horses are as irritated as I am about the extra effort it takes to walk through it.

Finally, after my calf burning workout, I arrive at Mill Creek Park where I eat lunch in the campground–dehydrated roasted veggies with hummus (also dehydrated) on a spinach tortilla. The hummus and veggies rehydrate beautifully, and the only thing that would have made it even better is a sprinkling of cheese. But I have Cheetos, so close enough.

There are dozens of electrical RV hookup posts in an enormous field, so I take advantage of topping off my phone’s battery, which the cold temperature is doing a number on. A car pulls up nearby, and one of the men I crossed paths with on trail earlier comes over and introduces himself. His name is Lyle and he’s section hiking the Palmetto Trail, just like I am. I enjoy our conversation and sense we’ll probably cross paths again in the world of social media, since we’re both participants in the popular Palmetto Trail Facebook Group. It’s so nice to meet other like-minded hikers on these jaunts.

After leaving the park, I start the Lake Marion Passage, which eventually leads me to the serene Sparkleberry Swamp. I’m low on water, so I fill up at a small creek near the swamp and carry on. Shortly after, I notice a tall chain link fence bordering the trail with “Danger” signs posted on it. Good ol’ Google informs me that the land beyond the fence is the former site of a hazardous waste landfill. It appears that the South Carolina Department of Health and Environmental Control stepped in, and there are ongoing mitigation efforts to control the environmental mess it created. At least I’ll know the reason if my pee glows in the dark since I’ve already consumed nearly a liter of water from the creek close to the site!

After 21 miles, I reach my home for the night–the new primitive campsite created by the Palmetto Trail Association, complete with benches, a fire ring and picnic table, right on the shore of the lake. It’s amazing, and it’s still early enough to enjoy my surroundings before the sun sets.

I normally don’t make a fire when I’m solo, but it would be a disservice to this beautiful setting to not complete the scene. So I indulge and sit beside it while I make and eat my dinner. I text Larry and tell him I wish he was with me–he would love it here.

I finally extinguish the fire and crawl into my tent to read. I hear a loud crashing noise barreling through the dry leaves in the forest behind me, followed by silence. I’m on high alert now and the same sound repeats, except closer to my tent this time. I call out, “Hey! Get on outta here!” but I don’t hear anything else.

I have cell reception, so I call Larry. I need to hear something beside my pounding heart. I tell him it sounded too boisterous to be a deer, and that I think it might have been a wild hog. “Either that or Bigfoot,” he muses. I hate that I’m always slightly on edge when I camp alone, but my primal lizard brain is hard to compete against.

Eventually I do sleep, with plans to wake up before the sun rises so I can cover the rest of the Lake Marion Passage, ending in the town of Santee for the evening.

P.S. Because I know someone will ask (and I’m happy to share), the dehydrated roasted veggie and hummus recipes can be found in the fantastic cookbook, The Dehydrator Cookbook for Outdoor Adventurers which was written by the owner of (now-closed) Food for the Sole, Julie Mosier. I wish she’d publish a second cookbook with all the Food for the Sole recipes–I miss them so much since they closed their doors for business during the pandemic. For the record, you really don’t even need the cookbook to make either of these things, although I still highly recommend it for other recipes. Just slap some thinly sliced roasted veggies on your dehydrator trays as well as some hummus (store bought works great) and voila, you have the same thing. 😉