In short: This is our first time camping a tiny island on the Altamaha River, right where the Oconee and the Ocmulgee come together to form one of the wildest rivers in Georgia. The water swirls in every direction at the meeting point. We paddled under an old train trestle near Highway 132, tucked onto a little island just past the bridge, and met a lifelong local named Frank who put us on an Appaloosa catfish. A beautiful, unfamiliar river we are still learning to read.
So this is the start of the Altamaha. I do not know if y'all can see it, but the water is swirling in all different directions because of the rivers coming together, just swirling everywhere, and it is pretty neat. We had come off the Ocmulgee, and it is the Oconee that meets it to form the Altamaha. We made our way under the old train trestle right before Highway 132, an awesome sight with all its years in place. Just past the bridge we found a small island, and I looked at Tina and said it, island camping on the Altamaha, it do not get no better than this.
It was not a big enough spot to spread out, but it was ours. We had a quick afternoon snack, fresh plums, summer sausage, Ritz crackers, Colby Jack cheese, and grapes, a pretty good little riverbank meal. I cut some limbs down to reach the still water against the bank and caught one hand-sized shad, a few more bites and that was it for the evening. Our little dog River wandered wherever she heard somebody, then came right back home to the island. Supper was Uncle Ben's roasted chicken and pasta with some canned chicken, and I will be honest, that Mediterranean mac and cheese, we do not recommend it. The canned chicken was good though.
The next day we met a man named Frank tied up in the channel, catching what he called an Appaloosa catfish on worms. He had lived here all his life and told us where the slow water holds the big ones. It is our first time fishing this river, we told him, and we are not doing so hot. He set us straight, and it paid off. Daddy got one, then a big one, and I got him, a good Appaloosa catfish we let go. Frank told us to look up Blackwater Outdoor Journeys, and I told him he would be on it if he was okay with it. That is how the river works, strangers become friends.
Right quick out there I wanted to say happy birthday to our oldest son Lance, who left us about five and a half years ago. We miss him every day, and I know he visits, because he sends me little reminders all the time that he is still around and still loves us. Happy birthday, Bubba. We watched the sun go down on the Altamaha near Towns Bluff Landing, ate breakfast of grits, eggs, and hash browns in the old cast iron come morning, and paddled the last miles to Gray's Landing. A long day on a big, beautiful river we are still figuring out.
Island camping in tight space, reading a new river, learning from locals, and packing simple riverbank meals. It is all in the Canoe Camping Playbook.
Read the Canoe Camping PlaybookIt begins where the Oconee River meets the Ocmulgee River in south central Georgia. The water swirls in every direction at the meeting point, and from there it runs southeast toward the Atlantic as one of the wildest, biggest rivers in Georgia.
Yes, and we did it for the first time on this trip. There are small sandbar and river islands scattered along the Altamaha you can camp on, though space can be tight, we found that out ourselves. We tucked onto a little island just past the Highway 132 bridge, not a big enough spot to spread out, but it was ours for the night. We had a quick afternoon snack out there, fresh plums, summer sausage, Ritz crackers, Colby Jack cheese, and grapes, a good little riverbank meal while we settled in. Our little dog River wandered off wherever she heard somebody, then came right back home to the island every time. Supper was Uncle Ben's roasted chicken and pasta with some canned chicken mixed in, though we will be honest, the Mediterranean mac and cheese we tried was not a hit, the canned chicken carried the meal. Tight quarters and all, it was our first island camp on the Altamaha and a good one.
Appaloosa is what the locals up here call a spotted catfish, and we learned the name straight from a man named Frank we met tied up in the channel. He had lived here all his life and was catching Appaloosa catfish on worms when we came up on him. We told him straight out it was our first time fishing this river and we were not doing so hot, and he set us straight, told us where the slow water holds the big ones. It paid off fast. Daddy got one, then a bigger one, and then I landed a good Appaloosa catfish myself, which we let go back into the river. Frank told us to look up Blackwater Outdoor Journeys, and we told him he would be on it if he was okay with that. That is how a river like the Altamaha works, strangers tie up next to you and turn into friends by the time you paddle on.
Trip plans, gear systems, and a community of people who actually go. Free to join.
Join THE CAMPFIRE, free