Paddling with Swift Snakes

By Paul Ferguson

Paul is the author of the guidebook “Paddling Eastern North Carolina” (www.PocosinPress.com)

Sandy Creek’s watershed begins near Henderson and flows southeast past Centerville. After crossing the Franklin and Nash County border, its name changes to Swift Creek at the confluence with a small tributary. Swift Creek passes through swampland between Rocky Mount and Whitakers before joining the Tar River near Tarboro.

Because the watershed has little development near its banks, it remains closer to a pristine state than most streams. Its waters are densely populated with unique and federally endangered aquatic species. The state’s Division of parks and Recreation has long regarded Swift Creek as containing one of the most important ecosystems in North Carolina. The last four miles of Sandy Creek and the first fourteen miles of Swift Creek are classified as Outstanding Resource Waters.

At the US 301 bridge near Whitakers, the main bridge over Swift Creeks seems unusually low, only a few feet above the water, but rising water is not a problem. It disperses into a swampy floodplain up to three miles wide, which extends for miles upstream and downstream of the bridge.

The next road bridge downstream, Seven Bridges Road (Edgecombe Co. 1404) is only three miles away as the crow flies, but the creek’s serpentine path takes nine miles. Two miles downstream from US 301, a railroad crosses, which is also the Nash and Edgecombe County border, and the swampy floodplain narrows to about a half-mile. I have no reports from anyone who has paddles this stretch. Scant information is a key ingredient in the recipe for adventure.

We leave a car at Seven Bridges road on a mid-May morning and drive with two canoes to the US 301 bridge. Little parking space is available on the narrow road shoulders, and getting to the water requires dragging through weeds. The channel is thirty-five feet wide, and there is an open vista across the swamp flora. We bump over a few submerged snags and see many cottonmouths sunbathing on logs. A downed tree across our route can be paddled under easily, but a few snakes are using it as their perch. They are far enough from where we need to pass, so we paddle briskly, duck, and begin a snake count.

A half-mile downstream, my friend is in the lead as I follow him into a narrow channel, which runs straight ahead with good current. Later we will regret not pausing here to consider staying with the main channel. Our route starts taking much effort as we drag over logs and beaver dams. We reach a pond behind a levee, and the map and GPS show we are far off course. Our choice is to backtrack to find where we went wrong or try taking a direct path across the swamp to the main channel at the railroad bridge. We choose the direct route, portage over the levee, and find paddling is difficult in a swamp full of submerged logs. My friend does a great job of staying dry by dancing across logs and pulling his canoe, while I get in the muck and wade, often in waist deep water.

Reaching the railroad, we eat lunch and take stock of our situation. We started at 10 a.m.; it is now 2:30 p.m. We are only two miles downstream with seven to go. We will not get out before dark if there are more delays. On the bright side, we are back to the main channel, and paddling looks easier.

The tree canopy becomes dense and blocks most the sunlight. The channel twists and turns constantly. A few years ago, downed trees from past hurricanes were cleared from the creek downstream of the railroad, but newly fallen trees must be negotiated. Bald cypress trees and knees line the banks. Deer, muskrat, beaver, geese, and snakes abound.

We hear a Canadian goose in distress. It has abandoned its feather-lined nest of eggs at the base of a tree. A large snake is poised only a foot away from the nest. The serpent’s body is swollen, apparently having swallowed at least one large egg without breaking it.

Our snake total has reached fifty, and we quit counting. We are more focused on getting out before dark because we do not know what lies ahead. Good progress continues, and it is a great relief to se the bridge at 6:30 p.m.

We saw several hunting stands during the trip, and judging from the wildlife seen, it should be productive grounds. There was much more wildlife than I usually see on a typical paddling trip, probably because of Swift Creek’s excellent habitat.

In September a friend and I set out to paddle from US 301 to the railroad bridge and back. As expected, it is too cool for snakes to be out. The usual logs and beaver dams slow us down but give us time to enjoy the swamp scenery. Many aquatic weeds are on the surface, but none block us. We get within sight of the railroad bridge and then turn back.

This part of Swift Creek is obviously not suitable for an easy paddle, but if you want to visit an area few venture into, start at the US 301 bridge, paddles for a bit less than half the time or work you care to expend, then return to the bridge.

I could not resist writing about this wild creek. I promise not to mentions snakes in my next article and pick a stream with easy access and few impediments. See you on the river.

Read Paul's other paddling adventures, River Access, What's Your Favorite River? , Winter Paddling, Canoe Camping.