Upon reaching Nebraska, I exhaled in relief. Every direction offered nothing but rolling hay fields, plots of corn, and patches of wildflowers. I drove through the occasional rural town, mostly empty except for a few locals chatting around pick-up trucks in the shade of grain silos… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
Have you ever driven past a certain body of water—possibly for years—without giving it much thought? Here are some lessons for finding creative paddling options closer to home… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
Carolina Bays are elliptical lakes with a mysterious geologic origin: Driving into Bladen County, I catch my first glimpse of why I’ve come. Brief gaps in dense vegetation reveal the inky blue waters of mysterious lakes that have baffled observers for centuries… continue reading at Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine.
The middle part of this story is the best known. Learn what happened before the 1869 expedition led by John Wesley Powell down the Colorado River to the Grand Canyon… continue reading in Terrain Magazine.
Things didn’t look promising. We’d left pavement behind and I was—not exactly driving—sort of skidding my truck through a mud trough in the rain. Up ahead, a soiled hatchback made like wet clay on a pottery wheel and spun around, slogging back toward the interstate… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.
The first time I heard a visitor calling for help, it came from the old ferry lake. Following the yells, I walked onto the aluminum fishing pier. Two bewildered college girls sat cross-legged on a floating platform, in the middle of this blackwater inlet of the Waccamaw River… continue reading at Blue Ridge Outdoors magazine.
The first time I spotted a sign for Awendaw Creek was a few years before we went paddling there. We were doing what most visitors do in this part of South Carolina’s Low Country, zipping 70 mph down Highway 17 through a box canyon of longleaf pine trees… continue reading at Duct Tape Diaries blog.