Discovering The Golden Isles of Georgia and getting it all recorded in our travel journal.

Charleston, SC was a tough act to follow. One of those places that we both agreed would be a place to return to on a future trip. Therefore, we have discussed creating a “bucket list” of places we would like to revisit. Which reminds me of the reason we got into this lifestyle. To visit places! Judy has always expressed a desire to travel. But, and how do I say this delicately, I sucked at traveling. Flying, especially as I’ve gotten older, is an anxiety-plagued undertaking for me. When the kids were young, we would take family trips, and one particular trip to Jamaica we were joined by my mother. On our return trip, I was unable to control my anxiety and became unhinged in the airport. My mother then informed me that “I was a real asshole to fly with”, and that “I should probably get some prescribed anxiety medication”. That was excellent advice, and consequently I now have “flying pills”. But that doesn’t make flying any more enjoyable. So, traveling, especially by airplane, has never really been in my wheelhouse.  And therein lies the two greatest factors that influenced our new RV’ing lifestyle.

Our stops in Georgia were in the midst of the Atlantic barrier islands known as the Golden Isles. Situated about 90 miles south of Savannah, GA, where the Mackay and Turtle Rivers empty out into the Atlantic Ocean. We stayed in the most picturesque RV park called the Blythe Island Regional Park. Our campsite was nestled into the 1,100-acre park, and we shared the park with other RV’ers, as well as a number of indigenous animals. There were deer & rabbits everywhere; and one rabbit, in particular, walked directly into our campsite to say “hello”.  We also got an up-close and personal visit from a very fat racoon. We spotted this raccoon on a couple of different nights, so we know we were definitely the visitors into this racoon’s territory. The park and island also had miles of walking and biking trails which ran along the Turtle River and gave us outstanding views of the brackish marshes abutting the inlet.  From here we could visit the Golden Isles of Simons and Jekyll Islands, with breathtaking landscapes, and 20^th century history.  And that’s exactly what we did.

Judy hiking in Blythe Island Regional Park

We spent an entire day exploring historic Jekyll Island.  The history of this island really begins after the Civil War, when the uber rich joined the newly opened Jekyll Island Club. In 1888, with an initial investment of $600.00, many of our nation’s most prominent and wealthy families, like the Rockefellers, the Vanderbilts, and the Morgans, joined the club and avoided the harsh northern winters being pampered and indulged on the island at the club enjoying the milder Georgia weather. There was golf, tennis, hunting, fishing, as well as extravagant dinners and socializing every night.  And the “cottages”  these wealthy industrialists built are amazing works of architecture, and remind us of the mansions in Newport, RI. The club’s demise began in the 30’s as the Depression started to impact the wealthy, and finally ended with America’s entry into WWII when the island was ordered evacuated. German U-Boats were of immediate concern.  After WWII, the State of Georgia basically took over Jekyll Island under the eminent domain laws, and that was the end of the club for the super-rich. We strolled through the lavish gardens and grounds, and signed up for a tour of a “cottage” that was being restored. The restoration work and the detail of research done was eye-opening.  We even got to speak with a restoration and reconstruction specialist.  If this retirement “gig” doesn’t work out for me, then I have decided I will return to college to get an advanced degree in Historic Restoration & Preservation from the College of Charleston.

In front of the San Souci Mansion on Jekyll Island

The other picturesque barrier island we visited, St. Simons, was just north of Jekyll Island, and was separated from the mainland by the Mackay River. This is a real beach community, and I’m amazed that a hurricane hasn’t swept through this area in my lifetime. Everything in this region is essentially at sea level, and another long causeway is used to access the island. Many of the historical landmarks we have visited contain and are based upon archaeological excavations.  The information gleaned from these remnants improves our understanding of history.  Such is the case of Fort Frederica, and a town built by James Oglethorpe between 1736 and 1748 to protect the southern boundary of the British colony of Georgia from Spanish raids. The British kept really good records, which were used in the excavation and recovery of hundreds of artifacts. We walked along the laid-out streets, under the tall live oak trees, and were able to re-imagine the small British colony: Here was the blacksmith’s house, and over there was the baker’s, and way down back were the barracks for garrison soldiers, and in front a large level parade ground.

Fort Frederica

And, of course, we had to visit the St. Simons’s Lighthouse.  I think that this is the 10^th lighthouse we have visited in 6 months traveling across the country, and we now know all the different “orders” (magnitude) of Fresnel lenses, which were an 1822 invention that are still in use today in every US lighthouse we have seen.  This particular lighthouse, out on the Atlantic Ocean, was a bit taller than the lighthouses we visited around the Great Lakes, as we needed to climb 129 stairs to get to the top. Ohh, and did I say it was a very windy day? Well, if I didn’t, then I should have, because the wind added a whole intimidating dimension to our walk around the catwalk at the top of the lighthouse some 104 feet up.  But the pictures were fantastic. 

St. Simons Light House

In only half a year, we have visited more than 25 different places and we have a full calendar of stops ahead of us. Travelling is what we do now; there is a rhythm, and we have learned how to embrace and enjoy the experience. One of the best decisions we made was to start recording our travels in a travel journal. Sure, you say, “Of course! That’s a no brainer.” Honestly, we stumbled into the journal quite by accident. My employer was well aware of my retirement timeline. After formally submitting my resignation, and after an 18-year career, I was honored with a retirement dinner. (As a side note, I was very fortunate to be the honoree at multiple retirement celebrations, and they were all very lovely.) It was at this dinner I was given a beautiful, thick, leather bound, travel journal (pictured below).  All blank of course, just waiting to be used. 

Travel Journal

The journal is engraved with our names, and it has become a valuable part of our travel routine. Early on our inaugural trip this summer, someplace in Ohio, Judy and I were having problems remembering all the places we had visited, and we were only three weeks into a seven-week odyssey.  How would we possibly be able to keep track of all the museums we had visited, or the tours we had taken??? Every day was an adventure, and they were over-running each other in our collective memory banks. It was like trying to remember what you had for dinner last Monday.  That’s when we realized how we would use the travel journal.  Every day that we tour, visit, explore, discover, or sightsee, we record the event in our journal as well as some of the highlights. Judy, using her best teacher handwriting, dutifully records each day’s entry. We have also gotten into the habit of holding onto the brochures, business cards, entry tickets, or maps associated with the visits. In short order, the travel journal has become quite full of memories and is a book we refer to often.  Just a routine that developed organically which will absolutely be invaluable as we tell… the Rest of the Story.