“We’re going to spend a romantic weekend in a swamp.” That’s how I told friends we planned to spend the long Easter weekend. Of course, it was probably never going to be romantic, and Congaree isn’t technically a swamp, it’s a floodplain. The land floods throughout the year, but the water eventually drains.
My wife had the week off, so she headed south to explore the Atlantic coast. When work was finished on Thursday, I threw my bags in the car and drove seven hours south to Fayetteville, then finished the remainder of the 10-hour drive early in the morning.
We spent the day exploring the boardwalk trails, admiring the massive bald cypress and tupelo trees. Sections of the boardwalk had been flooded over, so we detoured to keep our feet dry. Along the way, we heard woodpeckers in the distance and saw a snake sunning itself on a branch.
The next morning, it was easy to get into the park early given how close the park sits to the city. The sun had yet to reach above the trees, and the mist streamed over the water’s surface.
I tested a cheap pair of flood boots I bought just for this park by pushing further on the flooded boardwalk. At first, the water was shallow and the boots held up just fine. Tree branches and debris floated over the boardwalk, and as I climbed over them my boots landed in deep water which rushed in and soaked my socks.
Even after wasting 30 mins walking back to the car to get a pair of dry socks, the boardwalks were empty, except for a handful of visitors.
It was eerily quiet in the forest that morning, with only the occasional rhythm of a woodpecker and the hoot of an owl hiding somewhere in the trees. Even the water's surface was calm, with just a light breeze to disrupt it.
We headed out with Carolina Outdoor Adventures to explore Cedar Creek by kayak. Paddling around the massive trees was a great way to see the park: you could see how intertwined the forest and the floodplain were. Occasionally there was a small obstacle to navigate around: a fallen tree, low branches, or cypress knobs that hid just below the surface. Snakes and spiders clung to branches and tree trunks.
The guides explained the history of the area: slaves had fled to the forest and used its disorienting maze as cover in their escape. Loggers found it difficult to fell trees in the area before a local journalist rallied for what remained of the old-growth forest to be preserved.
A few barred owls hooted in the distance before flying off, giving us only a tiny glimpse of them.
© 2026 Scott Richardson