Altamaha River Is Georgia’s ‘Little Amazon’—and It’s Just 1.5 Hours From Savannah

As the rain sheets fell, the river wandered under us. I sat down with my friend Madeline in the bowl of my cano. My father, Joel, came to his long ocean cake. We intensified the excavators of the past, which the present tried to drain them.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I was Georg to see how wild is still wild. Now, four days of our six -day source to C -Paddle, the river was showing its strength.

For about an hour and a half south of Sawana, the pedalmers can find a forgotten essence. In the name of Georgia’s “Little Amazon”, 137 miles along the Altamah River wood forests and old growth cypress swamps, past routes of the river cut mountains, and Kordgrass Marsland before being emptied in the Atlantic. Uncontrolled, crossed the roads only five times, and the home of more than 120 risky species, nature consumed this river as one of the world’s 75 “last great places”.

The best way to enjoy the Ultamah is by boat. In 2010, the Georgia River Network launched the River Altamah Cano Trail. Today, this trail extends to the length of the stream and offers 29 access points.

We started our journey with one night at an ancient camp site at the Town Bloff Park. Outside, a three -river guide helped to take our car on a takeout in Darren before watching our way on Hanson’s landing. The three rivers have offered everything from shuttle to two hours for two hours for 10 days visits.

I spent a year reading Altama’s research, reading, hardly navigated supports, dense swimps, strong streams and maize, large catfish, and many more fish stories.

The journey was not disappointed. Our first night, we camped on one of the many dispersed camping areas of the river. I chose the Deobares while Madelin fishes the coastal line, which pulled a huge red breasts of water and smaller Mouth Boss.

We have dinner, we have dinner on fried fish, pasta and beer. We looked on the soft sand, watching the sun sinking, rotating the white colors of the snow, their tall tall tall tall tall tall tall tall tah lol tah lol tah lol lah lol lah lol tah Long tall tall long tall tall tall tall tah lol tah lol tah lol tah lol tah lol tah l

Over the next few days, we fell into a style. We stood up and pedaling hard, looking at the sandpipers of loneliness along the Misty Beaches, when the one saw us on the dead trees with their nests.

We spent our lunches comfortably on the sandbars of Altamah, cast the lines and wandered in the water for sharp swimming, alert for a deeper fish sketch.

In the afternoon, the silver multitude jumped with our boats with black water. On a memorable occasion, one bounced my father’s cake deck with a loud voice.

Every night, we echoed their familiar songs, “Who, who, who cook for you”, when they grew up among the Spanish branches.

Our biggest fish viewer came on our third day. “Madeline, Madeline, Madeline!” I panicked that what I had taken to make the log, started charging the bank with us. He broke the confusion and sank in the water, its widespread waves that were trapped against the canoe. Madeline withdrew from me. “What did you expect from me?” He said.

We spent our last night on the river in Altamah Regional Park. After another round of a sharp storm, a hot shower and a cup of coffee never felt so good.

The next morning we found in the park store, which hosts fishing and hosts a tasty dinner collision in the back corner behind the chemo shirts. In the breakfast of local jurm syrup, fried eggs, crisp has hash brown, grats and sausage, local angles told us that we have to check the rifle kit.

This narrow, mile long canal provides relief from the streams and maize on the mouth of the river. It is adorned with bright wildflowers, small crabs and coast birds. Although beautiful, it has a dark history. In the 1820s, the canal was excavated by slaves in the 1820s to shorten the route to the timber mill in Darien.

After leaving the coast to the coast, the river came to us in Darien, pulled us into a great mixture of the present and the maize.

Before we made the last turn, we caught the first glimpse of another group of pedestrians on the river. Now, ahead of us, they were in trouble. Stuck in a strange mixture of the present and maize, they turned their canoes. Without life jackets, they sprinkle with capsized canoes, and we quickly help.

My father took a tip to a tie on the back of his cake. With the help of another kicker, we managed to take the other man and his cano unlike the nearby sludge bank and just the top of the takeout.

The journey ended with Madelin and separate boats with me. I took a man in his cano, while Madeline and my father put a panic, tired man in our bow. He stood on the balls of his feet and was shaken by the gums, causing the cano -filled canoes in the wandering water. Somehow, Madelin made it with him.

Altamah was an adventure to the end.