It was a long drive through the Carolina low country to get out to Edisto Beach. Some of the communities we drove through looked like they were 50 years behind the rest of South Carolina, which itself is probably 10 years behind the rest of the US. I didn’t get to see as much as Ryan since I was in the back with the kids, but he seemed impressed with all the old churches and country houses. I was a little worried about the amount of gas we had, and would we be able to get back to that gas station we just passed? Ryan drove on. The Edisto Beach State Park is split into two campgrounds, one in the oak hammock/marsh and one at the beach. They are only about a half-mile down the road from one another. During check-in we learned that the beach sites were full, which was fine with us; we thought it might be a little cooler away from the beach. We paid for two nights and were surprised to learn that the fee was $54 per night. This was the most, by far, we had yet paid to stay somewhere. We ended up with a tight, but nice and private campsite, and began the task of unpacking all of our stuff – we had the whole process down pretty good at this point. We rode out to the beach and the little town that is there to check things out. The beach was covered in oyster shells, and we quickly determined that there wasn’t much for us to do in Edisto, other than sit at the beach. Ryan left the kids and I playing at the playground in the beach-side campground while he sped back to the ranger office before it closed to see if we could cancel the second night and get a refund. He made it in time, but no dice on the refund. Oh well, we’d make the best of it and try to get our $108 worth.
The next day we had a nice picnic lunch in one of the covered shelters at the beach campground. Brooks was too distracted with the birds to eat much of his lunch, preferring instead to chase them with sticks. And then we were all distracted as three powered paragliders circled overhead and landed on the beach right in front of us. They stowed their gear and walked 100 yards down the beach to eat lunch at a restaurant. Having not flown in a few weeks, I think Ryan was a bit jealous.
After lunch, we played on the beach for a while, but it was borderline too chilly to be out there in bathing suits so we packed up and took the kids to the playground. The playground was one of the old wooden ones that you don’t see much of anymore now that they are all made of plastic. It looked like it had been there for quite a while, and was similar to the ones I remember as a kid in Hilton Head, SC. We played Queen and princess of the castle for a long while, and then went back to camp.
The kids spent the little bit of energy they had left playing with snails in the muddy marsh. Both kids were wore out and took long naps, so Ryan and I took turns jogging around the campground to get some exercise in. We also found some nice partially burnt firewood stacked near the dumpster, which Ryan scooped up and hauled back to our site. The poblano peppers that we picked up several days prior at a little roadside vegetable stand were going bad, so Ryan made a ground beef poblano taco that was delicious. I put the kids to bed while he got a fire going with the slightly used wood. After paying a premium just to stay in Edisto, it was nice to find free firewood instead of having to buy it from the park. I was a little bitter that Ryan didn’t check the availability of the campsites right across from ours that bordered the marsh. As it turned out, they ended up being open both nights there we were there…I was only a little bitter. Ryan ended up getting motivated by the awesome moon and fire – and probably the wine – and got out the “big camera” to take some pictures over in the empty sites on the marsh. Fire, moon, wine, and an old oak tree on the marsh all combined to make the bitterness melt away. It was a good night.
Our overall impression of Edisto is that the drive out there was more interesting than the State Park and beach town itself. It certainly seemed like a popular place, but with oyster shells trucked in and dumped on the beach, and not much to do out there, I doubt we’ll be back any time in the next few decades.