In short: We pushed out of our home territory up to Lumber City, Georgia to paddle the Ocmulgee River down to where it joins the Oconee and forms the Altamaha. The river had come up since Sunday, running swift and brown and muddy, nothing like the clear blackwater we know. High water changes everything. The heart of this one is a campsite that just felt eerie, so we trusted the gut, loaded back up, and moved a mile down to a spot that felt right.
Y'all can see the blackwater has turned brown, I said as we started down the Ocmulgee. We put in at the 3:41 boat ramp on May 15th, and the river had come up with swift currents and muddy water. High water changes everything on a river, the lines, the hazards, and the places you thought were safe. We passed the old rotating train trestle, probably been a while since that thing turned, and loaded River the dog up for the ride. Somewhere back in the water I saw something that was not a gator, maybe an otter, but we turned around and never did see it again.
Around five o'clock we found a place, got out, unloaded the bags, and decided where to set the tent. And then something just felt eerie. It is hard to name that kind of feeling, but you learn to trust it on a river. So we did not argue with it. Guys, we are gonna change our plans, I told Tina, it just does not feel right, so we are gonna move on. We loaded everything back into the canoe and went down another mile or so. That is when we found it, up out of the water on the sand line, tent tucked under the trees, a beautiful view. This is gonna be home.
Supper was quick and simple, mashed potatoes and Dinty Moore beef stew off that little burner. We said grace and thanked the Lord for watching over us on this new river and for all His creations. While we ate we listened to a pair of hawks having a field day across the way, two of them, maybe three, either a pair already or fixing to make one. It was a rough night, got cold for some reason and I did not sleep good, but morning came bright and we got up to assess the day. Tina got her coffee and a protein shake stood in for breakfast.
Come morning we packed up and paddled on to the big moment. This is where the two rivers meet, I told y'all, the Oconee to the one side and the Ocmulgee we just came off, coming together to start the Altamaha. The water swirled in every direction, and it is a beautiful place. That is what the Altamaha is, it is not a beginning, it is a collision. And we had one more night on it, because the river was not finished with us yet. The finale is coming next.
Reading high, swift water, trusting your gut on a campsite, and moving when a spot feels wrong. It is all in the Canoe Camping Playbook.
Read the Canoe Camping PlaybookThe Ocmulgee joins the Oconee River in south central Georgia, and where those two waters collide they form the Altamaha. We put in at Lumber City, Georgia and paddled down to that meeting point.
High water changes everything, the lines, the hazards, and the places you thought were safe. On this trip the Ocmulgee had come up since Sunday, running swift and brown and muddy, nothing like the clear blackwater rivers we know.
Yes. We had the bags unloaded and a tent spot picked when something just felt eerie. It is hard to name that feeling, but you learn to trust it on a river, so we loaded back up and moved a mile down to a better spot.
Trip plans, gear systems, and a community of people who actually go. Free to join.
Join THE CAMPFIRE, free