One Tank Trip: Ditch the four wheels and go rolling on the river with Paddle Georgia

Remember at summer camp when it’d storm, and you’d have to switch to rainy day activities, usually some combination of board games, handicrafts and no-shoes, indoor freeze tag?

Though Paddle Georgia 2023 kicked off summer with the middle Savannah River overflowing and unsafe, the savvy powers-that-be organizing the non-profit’s annual recreation and fundraising event re-arranged the trip’s early days with enough zips, bends and twists that playing “Win, Lose or Draw” for hours in the dining hall was never an option.

After a two-year hiatus due to COVID-19, Paddle Georgia returned this year for what would have been seven days exploring parts of the Savannah River plus Brier, Abercorn, and Ebenezer Creeks. But flooding reshaped the experience into an adventure primed for making friendships to last a lifetime, especially among the teenagers navigating the altered course.

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Ebenezer Creek begins to narrow, and guides, students and chaperones must paddle single file.
Ebenezer Creek begins to narrow, and guides, students and chaperones must paddle single file.

Direct exposure to nature essential for mental health

For nearly 20 years, Paddle Georgia, a project of the Georgia River Network, has led a one-week canoe and kayaking trip supporting as many as 400 people on one of the state’s 13 major rivers and respective tributaries. Typically, participants paddle four to six hours each day and travel between 8 and 17 river miles. Afterwards, they return to a shared base where they camp and eat catered meals together. Often, the week of paddling includes staying at two locations to maximize experiencing different river sections.

Our first basecamp was Black Creek Scout Reservation, a Boy Scout camp near Sylvania, Georgia, that would have been ideal for exploring 40 miles of the Savannah River had it not been at flood stage. As a group of roughly 220 paddlers, we stayed put for a day and embraced all the 380-acre camp had to offer.

That’s when I met the 15 students from metro-Atlanta who were part of Gardens for Growing Community. They quickly won my heart with their bravery, kindness, quick wit and curiosity.

Through sponsor donations, Paddle Georgia provides some full scholarships for high school students who would otherwise lack means and opportunity to be part of such an excursion. Atlanta-based environmental education non-profit, Gardens for Growing Community, then helps connect interested young people with Paddle Georgia.

That first day no matter where I went, the students were there—learning about water quality testing in the Georgia Adopt-A-Stream workshop, swimming at the waterfront, and flying into the lake on a zip line that began 500 feet away atop a 60-foot jump tower.

Our interactions were fun, sometimes deep, and often sprinkled with gems of teenage insight. None had ever been on a zip line, yet they found it worth doing over and over. And I learned most of them didn’t know each other before this outing and that none had ever been in a canoe or kayak before.

Navigating the Cypress and Tupelo trees gets tricky as Ebenezer Creek narrows, staying together is most important.
Navigating the Cypress and Tupelo trees gets tricky as Ebenezer Creek narrows, staying together is most important.

Getting lost then found

By day five, basecamp had moved to New Ebenezer Retreat Center near Rincon, Georgia. The students had so charmed me, I opted to take on Ebenezer Creek with them. By this point the newbies had plowed through a formidable sea of lily pads at Magnolia Spring State Park and maneuvered the watery cypress maze of George L. Smith State Park. Maybe not experts, but they were definitely comfortable with their boats and basics of maneuvering.

A little before 9 a.m. at the Long Bridge Road boat ramp, the teens worked in pairs to move kayaks and canoes, setting up each other for launch and a three-hour paddle.

Our itinerary for the morning was to head six miles down Ebenezer Creek to a small landing where the creek joins the Savannah River. We had a lot of boats. Fifteen students in kayaks, plus two guides, three chaperones and me. A flotilla of 21 craft was slow going through high, nearly currentless water, and tight, low-slung branches. At points we had to paddle single file.

When I could, I moved in my kayak among everyone, chatting and noting how much these young people, who’d only met just five days prior, seemed so happy in each other’s company and relaxed on the water.

But nearly two hours in, our trailing group of eight boats became separated from the others while navigating a section thick with low tree branches.

The chaperones circled our small group, briefly searched for trail markers—ribbons of pink and orange plastic blazes tied to trees—but couldn’t find any. We’d ended up in a fairly large pond-like area covered with bright green floating bits of duckweed. The duckweed gave us clues about how to proceed. Greater concentrations of the plant are often found closer to the Savannah River, but it prefers water with little to no motion. From the duckweed, we knew we were near the mouth of Ebenezer but not in its main channel.

We weren’t in any immediate danger—essentially, we needed to find the current again and follow it. But separation from the group made us understand the importance of our connection with each other. It felt frustrating. We were frustrated, like we’d come undone as beads untethered from a precious necklace.

When we did pick up the current and began paddling again, we arrived at the landing less than 30 minutes behind everyone there waiting for us. Reunited and eating lunch, it was soon right as rain.

When the teens debriefed the experience, they came up with ideas about how to stay together next time, suggesting a slower pace and remaining more aware of who exactly was ahead and who was behind. A couple students emphasized pulling up the creek on GPS to keep track of the route electronically. Everyone agreed, staying together, staying connected, was by far the best way to proceed.

After Friday night dinner, we all participated in the annual “No Talent Show.” Poetry, music, jokes, stories and stupid human tricks rounded out an evening of great laughter and silly entertainment. The students performed a parody of “Baby Shark,” they’d re-written into “Baby Sturgeon,” and a few of them even joined me in sharing a song. It was beyond fun—we were truly bonded, now, happy singing river rats ready to paddle on.

The challenges of flooded rivers, long days, hot temperatures and getting “lost” on the creek shined as teachable moments of patience, flexibility and empathy not just for the teenagers but for me as well. Time and time again, I marveled at their adeptness in turning nearly any negative into something fun that we’d inevitably laugh about later. The new, young paddlers had emerged as masters of letting it all roll right off their backs.

On the final day of Georgia Paddle 2023, students, chaperones and writer pose for one last picture in front of the dining hall at New Ebenezer Retreat Center in Rincon, Georgia.
On the final day of Georgia Paddle 2023, students, chaperones and writer pose for one last picture in front of the dining hall at New Ebenezer Retreat Center in Rincon, Georgia.

Paddle Georgia plans to tackle the Altamaha River in summer 2024, ending the week with a big celebration in Darien, Georgia. If meeting and spending time with people who like being outdoors, camping and paddling a boat, or if summer camp was something you always looked forward to growing up, then Paddle Georgia might be exactly what you didn’t know your soul needed.

If you know a teen who might enjoy paddling the Altamaha River next year, get in touch with Georgia River Network and Gardens for Growing Community.

This article originally appeared on Savannah Morning News: Ditch the four wheels and go rolling on the river with Paddle Georgia