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This is the cabin I stayed in for the week (pictures of the inside on next roll). I slept on the couch while the 8 girls split the 3 bedrooms. (Yep, that's right. I was the only guy.) Anyway, this cabin was built in about 1990 after Hurricane Hugo in 1989 destroyed the much older house that sat on the spot. All houses built after Hugo had to be built above the 100-year flood level, thus the 8 foot beams holding it up.
We were suppose to be building bridges for the trail, but when we got there, we found that all the bridges has been built. So instead we did other trail work to prepare for the trail's grand opening that coming Saturday. Here, a group of us worked on the approaches to a bridge.
A fire ant hill. No problem if you step on it and keep on moving. One hell of a problem if you step on it and leave your foot there.
The view from the cabin we stayed in.
Same view, zoomed in on the lighthouses in the distance. The cabin was located a stone's throw from the Intracostal Waterway. Basically, from what I picked up, the Intracostal Waterway was dug in recent times to provide a pathway up and down the coast without disturbing the marshy National Wildlife Refugee that stretches out from the coast.
This is the stump that I removed with an axe, while the others went in search of a chain saw. I became determined to remove it conventionally and so I did.
The view west off of the bridge in the above picture.
The view east off of the same bridge. (Wow, what a difference.)
The following three pictures where all taken from the same spot, just from three opposing directions. Notice how different a view each direction offers. It was like this in a lot of places.
The remains of an old dock, no doubt dating back to the Civil War Era if not earlier. Up the path from this dock there was a clearing with a house that was built in the 1920s. However, it had been, of course, ruin by Hugo in 1989.
There were tons of these little crabs scuttering around on the mud. (To assist in finding the camouflaged little creature, I put in the inset with the bugger darkened.)
Morgan, Ruth and Lillian chill out by the golf cart after a day of workin' hard. (Or was that a day of hardly working? ... )
The view along the service road back to the ruined house. I love the Spanish Moss.
This is a pretty old cemetary that Jimmie (our supervisor) showed us. If I remember correctly, the oldest tombstone had the person's date of birth prior to 1776. Oddly enough, the cemetary is still in use and just ten days before our arrival, Jimmie had helped bury a good friend of his there. Another tombstone read:
"Alice Lucas Rutledge
beloved wife of
'A song that's hushed makes music still for me,
Over life's silent land, its lifeless sea,
Because love made its life forever mine,
A star that set will always for me shine.'
Archibald Rutledge was the first poet laureate of South Carolina. What's interesting is that Jimmie said he was buried in another cemetary supposedly next to his wife. The plot thickens....
This is Jessi. Ok, time for some more background story: The cabin we stayed in belonged to a guy named John. Everywhere John went, he took Jessi with him. Originally, we were suppose to work with John the whole week. However, on Sunday night, John told us he had forgotten about a conference or something he needed to go to and so he wouldn't be around for the next few days. So he got us a 4-wheel-drive pickup (more on that later) to drive around and gave us the keys to this beautiful cabin. Now, that was a little strange: leaving a suped-up truck and a gorgeous cabin with nine unsupervised college kids on Spring Break. But then, to top that, he came back later that night and left his dog with us!
Morgan, Steph, Suzy and Lillian showing off their tools.
On Wednesday the group took off early and we all headed down to Charleston. This (I believe) is the USS Yorktown parked in the bay.
The view across the bay. You probably can't see it in the picture, but we noticed a bunch of dolphins jumping and playing in the water a ways out.
Just a quick snapshot of some of the gigantic and gorgeous houses on East Battery Street, Charleston.
The small white placard reads:
1746 - 1825
I think that pretty much explains itself.
After a hard day of shopping (remember, me and eight girls), we ate at a restaurant called A.W. Shucks. This is the cool side of the table: Erin, Kristin, Lillian, I, and Katie.
This is the ghetto, grimey, and gutta side of the table: Steph, Ruth, Suzy and Morgan.
This was the crazy seafood platter that Lillian order. In it you will find sausage, corn, crab legs, clams, mussels, oysters, and sweet potatoes. What an odd combination...
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