The journey from Savannah to Charleston, my next stopover, is too far for a single day of cycling. The only place of note in between is Beaufort (pronounced Byewfurt) and I was told by local folk, correctly, that it was worth seeing. This much smaller historic coastal city came at the end of the shorter of two unequal days of cycling, so I was in no hurry to leave lovely Savannah. I found a bike shop right in the old centre and called in for a couple of small items and a chat. They were lovely people and gave me some banana bread!
You can leave Savannah by free ferry across the wide river, but you can’t avoid the traffic for long. There were better and worse sections but no real respite, and in most directions there was just swamp and open water. At a supermarket half way along I bumped into a young couple of cyclists who were the first people I had met so far doing the same trip as me. They were doing it more slowly and carrying all manner of additional luxury items on their bikes, including a guitar! They were very cheerful, but they agreed they didn’t need everything they were carrying. So far we really haven’t had any hills to contend with. That usually makes all the difference. I wish them well in their journey.
I reached my motel on the edge of Beaufort in the late afternoon and ditched my bags. A fancy cycle track, the Spanish Moss Trail, passed right by and transported me easily down to the tip of the peninsula and the small coastal village of Port Royal. It was a beautiful, quiet spot with large houses surrounded by old live oak trees, and lovely views out across the lagoon towards the low sun. But best was the area just before the road reached the end. Here you could walk out across a boardwalk to view a huge rookery of wading birds that were gathering to nest in trees on small islands in an area called Cypress Wetlands. The place was alive with noise and activity. Storks flew low over our heads carrying large branches for their nests, landing next to their partner on surprisingly spindly trees that were already full to overloaded with storks, different types of egret, ibis and smaller birds. The taller trees behind were festooned with hundreds of white birds. It was truly a spectacle that I stumbled upon quite by accident at just the right time of year. What a treat. In the lake are turtles and alligators, which keep other animals like raccoon and otters away from the nests, so the site is perfect. Word had clearly got out!
I just had time to get a few miles back up to the historic centre of Beaufort, with its grand old mansions and pretty waterfront, where I bought an ice cream. As the sky turned orange, the colours were reflected in the calm water, and a large porpoise popped up above the surface to say good evening. Which all seemed highly appropriate.
