Matchless Manning
A couple of months ago, on the Saturday after Mother's Day, we went to Manning.
Manning, South Carolina, that is: Matchless for Beauty and Hospitality.
(Open for dispute perhaps, but that is their slogan and I say God bless them for their eager optimism, pride of community, and elegant turn of phrase.)
Johnny Reb
Along for the outing were TG, me, Erica, and Dagny.
Audrey was not able to come along; Chad chose not to.
It was an extremely hot day -- one of the first fiery spring days we'd had.
Charleston to Appomattox
As I've told you before, we enjoyed an uncommonly cool spring in South Carolina.
We loved it. The lovely cool spring weather, that is.
It made the CCP virus "lockdown" situation more bearable.
Dagny and her beloved Aunt Erica
You might have guessed if you know me very well, that it was I who hatched the plan to take a day trip to Manning.
But where is that, and what is there, you may be thinking or asking.
As for the where, Manning is sixty-odd miles due southeast of Columbia. Sort of halfway between the state capital, where we live, and various famed South Carolina beaches.
Little water tower
As for the what? Not much.
But we derive as much enjoyment from the journey as from the destination, and it felt like an adventure, so at around noon on the day, we sortied.
Before reaching Manning proper, we stopped at an exit where there was a promising souvenir-and-treat-type travel store and gas station. Beside it was a shop dedicated to fresh-served ice cream. The kind of place where you can see all of the ten-gallon buckets of ice cream behind glass, half scooped out already, begging you to point to one of them so that the clerk can load up your cone with one to three varieties.
Courthouse architecture
Erica had spotted a billboard advertising the place: Smith's, Exit 98 off of I-95 in Santee, South Carolina.
Think Stuckey's -- if you're familiar with that chain known to most travelers -- but with even more stuff (stuff stuffed everywhere) and lots of handmade treats such as fudge and pralines.
It sounded exciting and in fact, it turned out to be a place so neat, you had to go back a second time. Which we did. But wait for the story to unfold.
There was a pretty sky
Having cased the ice cream shop, we'd gone into Smith's where Dagny was keen for a snack and was eyeing an ice cream novelty. We promised her we'd get her that later if she'd settle for something less sticky for the time being. I think she ended up with a pack of crackers.
On tantalizing display was everything from a full rack of Chick tracts (for free) to kitschy souvenirs by the hundreds, plus beach-inspired decor and cheap fireworks and a dazzling array of fudge flavors, and even a full range of world-famous Claxton Fruit Cake products from the Claxton Bakery in Claxton, Georgia.
(One usually sees those only at Christmas and it's one of my favorite things so I was drooling. Smith's carries them, fresh and festive, year round.)
We had Manning to ourselves
Promising to come back on our way home, we asked the cashier what time they closed.
We're open twenty four hours a day, three hundred sixty five days a year, she said from behind a sheet of Visqueen suspended between herself and customers on the other side of the counter, ending about ten inches above said counter to allow for space to put your purchases down.
It was a hot afternoon
Turns out the Visqueen partial curtain was Smith's sole concession to the "coronavirus crisis." The friendly cashier told us that the owner had been committed to staying open for travelers and the community who depend on them, and despite some lonely days, they had accomplished their goal.
Like Bert's Market at Folly Beach, they may doze but they never close. Delighted to hear it, we said we'd see her again that evening.
Dagny in the bike rack, with a magnolia tree
Once in Manning, we headed for the downtown area and quickly realized we'd have no competition for a parking spot.
They were all vacant. Deserted. As were the sidewalks, and the streets.
We walked around the Clarendon County Courthouse and let Dagny run, and I took pictures, and we quickly realized there was basically nothing to do in Manning.
Old brick and clinging vines
So after walking around a bit, and looking around in the only store that seemed to be open (sort of an old-fashioned small department store type of operation, with outrageous prices for dull and spiritless merchandise), we headed back to the car.
Next up? You knew there'd be a cemetery.
Manning Cemetery, in fact. We decided to go on over there. I'd already scoped it out on the map.
Land of the free
Upon arrival we saw that we'd have that location to ourselves too. We were the only ones still on the green side of grass.
Not that there was much (or any) grass in Manning Cemetery. A few scrubby clumps, was all.
Manning time
Being so close to the ocean, places like that tend to be more sandy, with many live oaks dripping Spanish moss so not much sun gets in, and gnarly roots that you have to be careful not to trip over.
TG let me and Dagny out while he and Erica figured out the best place to park the car.
Come on in
Dag and I stepped through a gate and towards some old plots enclosed in wrought iron. I took a picture of her and she wanted to take one of me.
It was then that we noticed that we in fact were not technically alone.
Low country aesthetic
Mamaw, there are so many ants! Dagny alerted me, and then I saw them. Millions of ants. Maybe trillions.
The little suckers were everywhere. There was nowhere you could step or stand or even look, that they were not swarming.
Dagny gives a thumbs up
Now, these were extremely tiny black ants, of the completely harmless variety. Not the red fire ants we're known for in this part of the country, and in which I have stepped in cemeteries, and which bite you with a vengeance, and it hurts like crazy.
But the ants crawled on every square inch of that cemetery. They were frenetic and relentless. We walked around and as I said, it was mostly sandy dirt, whitish in color, and the black ants were seen no matter where you looked.
I'm sure there were ants on me
And if you dared stand still for even a few seconds, they climbed up and crawled all over your feet and would have aimed for your knees if you hadn't stomped and swatted at them.
Dagny and I started walking fast. By then, TG and Erica had parked and gotten out of the car and were coming towards us.
The Santee Dam
We yelled for them to be careful of the ants, and they looked and gasped as they witnessed firsthand the overwhelming ant activity.
It was not going to be possible to take pictures.
They didn't get far
We all got back into the car, stamping our feet and making sure we didn't bring ants on board with us.
I was not sure what to do next, but I'd seen some mention of the nearby Santee Dam, so we headed in that direction.
At the water's edge
The Santee Dam was constructed in 1941 and created Lake Marion, the largest lake in South Carolina. Lake Marion is so large, in fact, that it is known as South Carolina's inland sea.
Lake Marion is right beside Lake Moultrie, South Carolina's third largest lake. Serious lake country, paradise for boaters and water skiers and fishermen. The dam itself is eight miles long.
Put your shoes back on
So we tooled over in that direction and found the place where folks are meant to park if they want to walk on the dam.
And we intended to do that, but we quickly realized that it was going to be pretty boring even for us, whose standards for what constitutes interesting and exciting are fairly low.
So we settled for standing at the land-end of a small fishing pier and let Dagny wade in the water a few feet away.
Jordan United Methodist Church
She was so thrilled by that; I can't tell you how much that child loves to be near or in water. It never fails to light her up.
After we'd done that for a while, we decided it was time to go and find something for supper.
We stopped at a restaurant that was about one-fourth open; as in, they were letting people sit at one table per section. The whole experience was unremarkable.
Steeple sunset
In addition to the billboard that led us to Smith's, Erica had spotted a picturesque church on the road to Manning.
We followed the road back to it -- Jordan United Methodist of Manning -- and pulled in not long before sunset. It was peaceful and quiet and pretty, so white and small, with a little graveyard and a steeple that let the sun's rays shine through. We spent fifteen minutes there.
Once back in the car and headed for home, we hadn't forgotten that we intended to stop once more at Smith's at Exit 98.
Day is all but done
Our second visit was even better. I ended up buying a Claxton Fruit Cake to keep in the fridge for snacking; TG picked out some fudge. I don't remember what the others got but we had a good time looking around.
I asked the still-friendly cashier whether they had a web site where one could purchase their many offerings, and she said no, but she gave me several plastic drinking cups emblazoned with their contact info, and a few pamphlets, and said to just call if there was anything I wanted, and they'd ship it right to me.
I promised that I would, but I may just go back when I get another Claxton craving. It's not far.
Smith's. Yay.
It was dark when we got home, and we were tired, but we'd had a great time and made a few interesting discoveries.
As well as good memories, for which there is no substitute and of which there are never enough.
And that is all for now.
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Happy Tuesday