Off-grid camping – Laurie Apgar Chandler

Sunset bathes my campsite at the spacious Brick House Campground

Hmmm, it’s hard to say which was scarier. The nights where it went down to lows of 13 and 16, and the generator was running rough. Or the last night, where the temperature hovered around freezing, but the generator was gone, gone, gone. This campground, which did have vault toilets, gave me a true test of off-grid winter camping without electricity or water. My few neighbors, hardy souls, were all in tents, cars, or amazingly, a hammock! With the generator needing some warranty repairs, I ended up cutting my stay short, but managed to pack a lot into six days.

The mysterious, uninhabited brick house from which the campground takes its name

I’d been camping there for a couple of days before I put the pieces together. The grand, obviously historic, brick house across the road must have inspired the campground name. After that, it took some research to learn more. Locals were undecided if it dated to the Revolutionary or Civil War era. From the road, almost shrouded from view by tangled vegetation, it had an aura that spoke of untold stories. I’ve uncovered a few of them already. The house dates to the early 1800s and was built by Dr. Francis Fielding Calmes, using bricks made on a nearby creek. To me, its double chimneys and simple decorative brickwork give it timeless class. It seems a true loss that no one lives there now.

The Palmetto Trail runs right along the edge of the campground

Still a work in progress, the Palmetto Trail for hikers and bikers will eventually connect the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Intracoastal Waterway. According to USFS literature, 380 of its eventual 500 miles are finished. I explored it to the north, pleasant hiking on old woods roads and soft forest paths. Highlights were the small, white sandy streams and areas of steep gullies and huge pines that I could only halfway hug. My goal was a bog bridge across a beaver pond, some four or five miles from the campground. It was a goal that took three days to attain: one quick scouting trip, one long and hungry try where I got turned around in an area of intersecting OHV trails, and then eventual success.

The elusive beaver pond late one golden afternoon. The peaceful hour I spent writing there, in the company of a host of swooping red-headed woodpeckers, was memorable indeed.

I hope to write one more post about South Carolina as I wrap up a brief visit back to Maine. Life does go on, with taxes, medical appointments, and author business to attend to, even when a trailer is your home! It has been wonderful to reconnect with friends and family, while my generator gets a new carburetor and my truck and trailer wait patiently in Georgia.