Friday, December 7, 2007 - Foscue Creek Park, Demopolis AL
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Foscue Creek, Demopolis AL, December 12, 2007
Me being me, I chose the one farthest from town, went off 10 miles the wrong way, turned around and finally found the one, Forkland Park 12 miles from town - only to find, contrary to it's web site, it is closed for the winter. I hate it when that happens. Oh well, back to town I go - to the one, Foscue Creek Park, a mere 3 miles from the Wal-Mart I just left. This turns out to be a beautiful park, nicely landscaped, full hook-ups, a coin laundry, and I site where I can almost literally hang the rear picture windows of LD right out over the water. With my Golden Age Passport discount I get all that for a mere $9.00 a night. A nice find.
All was not lost on my ride out to Forkland Park. The ride took me through a bit of the rural south I hadn't experienced yet - some small cypress swamps and rural mobile homes perched atop concrete block columns to keep them safely above flood waters. Some of those columns are 6 feet high and look rather unstable. Then there is the absolutely fabulous field full of Jim Bird's hay creations.
Night camp
Site 22 - Foscue Creek Campground, Demopolis AL
- This is a well maintained US Army Corps of Engineers campground with level paved sites, most with full hookups
- Many sites overlook the water of the inlets off Demopolis Lake on the Tombigbee River
- There is good biking on the park roads
- The campground is pretty full Thanksgiving week and is generally booked solid the weekend of the Demopolis Christmas on the River festival in early December.
- Poor Verizon cell phone service - access is via Extended Network, roaming
- No Verizon EVDO service - access is via the Extended Network and service varies is slow but reliable
- Only 3 miles to Wal-Mart and other services in Demopolis AL
- Find other references to Foscue Creek
- List the nights I've camped here
- Check the weather
- Reserve a site
- Get a map
The Trespasser's Eyeshine
She put the butt end of the flashlight against her forehead, just above the space between her eyebrows. It was something she'd learned long ago about seeing at night. A light shined from there would reveal nothing of herself to a trespasser, and from that spot on her forehead a beam would go straight to the retinas and return to her own eyes the characteristic color of the trespasser's eyeshine. If it had eyes, of course, and if they were looking at her directly.
Prodigal Summer, Barbara Kingsolver