This was our last day in the Carolinas, so I wanted it to be special. Just last month, Jenny and I went to Portland and made it out to the Pacific Ocean. Even though it was only March, I doubted that I would get this close to the Atlantic Ocean again this year. I thought that it would be really cool to visit both coasts of the USA in one year, but sadly it didn't happen. The inclement weather and timing made the decision for us, so we stayed in Columbia. While this could have been a bummer, I enjoyed the alternative. It was a genuine surprise.

 

I've got a thing for bridges. Be it cable, suspension or Jeff; bridges have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I saw this pedestrian walkway that spans the Columbia Canal, I knew that we had to cross it in order to continue with our adventure. Can you guess what we did next? You don't have to because I'm going to show you. We crossed that bridge and went to the other side. There is no way of telling where we are going. The land of the unknown lies before us. But isn't that what makes it worthwhile?

While I was applauding this maritime explorer, discoverer and colonizer of the new world, Jenny Reck reminded me that Mr. Columbus should not be placed upon a pedestal and praised. When Christopher invaded native America, he brought with him diseases, Eastern hierarchy and rapey behavior. He was America's first asshole. He really didn't give a shit about any of the people who had been here since the dawn of mankind. He took whatever he wanted and didn't hold back. What a bastard. And so Mr. Columbus, we give you the one-fingered salute. F#*! you Christopher. F#*! you. Thanks for nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Carolinas March 2015 - Riverfront Park

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even though we didn't go to the ocean, we still made it to the water. It's damn near impossible to keep me away from it. But unlike all of my other trips to locations near the water, I would not be in it this time around. I mean this in no slight to the South Carolina natural water quality, but I hardly think that the water flowing through the Columbia Canal was fit to wash upon a body as pristine as mine.

 

When the plan of going to the Atlantic Ocean fizzled, I started searching for "things to do in Columbia". The Columbia Riverfront Park and Canal was at the top of that list. This is where the Congaree, Saluda and Broad rivers come together to form some kind of super river. The flowers were in bloom and our spirits were high. Even though I failed to see it at the time, I couldn't have asked for a more perfect day. We all needed this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a damn in place along this canal and convergence of rivers. I'm sure that it regulated the flow and all sorts of things, but I'm sure something else was afoot. In the building (which we surprisingly had access to glance into) there was a mess of pipes. I didn't know what to make of them, but that was to be expected since my name is neither Mario nor Luigi. We are not plumbers, so instead of working the pipes, we climbed up the side of the building or stood out in the public square. What else were we supposed to do?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'll admit I was bummed that this wasn't the Ocean. But when you can't have the Ocean, you take the next available body of water. And this was great, so I really had nothing to be sad about.

Home

 

 

 

 

I don't know why there was a statue of Christopher Columbus in this park. I'd do some research, but instead I'm just going to make something up. We all know that in 1492, Columbus sailed the Ocean blue. But did you know that in 1494, Columbus finally made it beyond the shore? That's why Columbia (the capital city of South Carolina) is named after him. He is solely responsible for (drunkenly) stumbling upon this good land and establishing a community of good folks who now call this place their home. While that may not be the story that your teachers assign you to read in your history books, I assure you that it is a hell of a lot more interesting than the truth. Way more.