The Congaree National Park in South Carolina still held some surprises for me, even though I traversed this biggest last stand of bottomland forest in 1988. Then, it was just a National Monument but in 2003 was upgraded to National Park status. The park hosts 17 national and/or state record trees, including an 156 foot tall loblolly pine; and record shumard, southern red, and overcup oaks; as well as champion water hickory, Carolina ash, holly, box elder, persimmon, and paw paw.
Loblolly Pine–Pinus taeda
Loblolly pine. The state record tree located in this park has a circumference of 16 feet. This one looks to be at about 9 or 10.
The tree on the right is the loblolly pine from the previous photo. The tree to the left is a red maple. Some of the stands of loblolly pine in the park were found to be 227 years old. The same study found that this species sprouts following hurricanes which open up the forest canopy. The ages of stands corresponded with the history of hurricanes. (I took all the photos for this blog entry.)
This species is also known as old field pine because it reseeds so easily in lots devoid of other trees. It has become a dominant tree throughout the southeast since much of the cotton and corn fields and horse pastures, which 100 years ago made up the face of the southern lands, were abandoned and went fallow. Before European settlement it was merely a common component, but today it grows in pure stands as well as mixed with other species. Therefore, it’s sometimes given the name bull pine due to its predominance. Not only does it grow in upland locations, but it reaches prodigious size in wet areas from whence it gets its name, loblolly, which means mud puddle. In the Congaree they grow in wet mud.
Sweetgum–Liquidamber styraciflua
Forked sweetgum trunk.
Another surprise for me. I didn’t know this species could grow with its root system submerged in water, but I saw plenty of individuals in the Congaree growing in 6-12 inches of water. Some had roots spread in structures similar to those of cypress and tupelo, enabling them to balance without tipping over in muddy soils. Sweetgums, like loblolly pines, reseed readily in fields and are a common tree in upland sites. But they’re adaptible enough to thrive in low muddy land as well.
Cypress–Taxodium distichum and Tupelo– Nyssa sp.
Cypress tree trunk.
Look at all of these cypress knees. Scientists are unsure whether the cypress knees, which are part of the root system, grow for respiration or balance.
Up close view of a cypress knee. Cypress trees are closely related to California red woods.
There are a lot of interesting microhabitats within a cypress-tupelo swamp. Areas flooded in shallow water provide homes for fish, reptiles, amphibians, crayfish, and aquatic insects and spiders.
Flooded land in the cypress-tupelo swamp.
Fallen hollow logs and standing snags provide dens from everything from bats and possums to snakes and birds.
This hollow log is a possum mansion.
This standing snag could be hiding bats or flying squirrels.
When the water recedes lush grass and bamboo cane grow. I can just imagine such Pleistocene mammals as long-horned bison, horses, and mammoths feeding in these grassy glades which often come about when a mighty old tree topples over allowing more light to reach the forest floor.
Note the grassy glade in the background. There is plenty of grass and cane for a small population of bison and horses in the Congaree. Too bad they’ve been extirpated. The only big game left is deer and feral hogs.
A stand of cane.
When the mighty behemonths do topple over, their roots rip caverns in the forest floor. Those often fill with water forming deep pools that are free of fish. Amphibians can breed here without fish preying on their eggs and tadpoles.
Upturned tree root.
Pool formed in a hole from where a tree toppled over.
Beech–Fagus grandifolia
Beech tree canopy
Beech grows on sites that are near water but normally stay high and dry. I love beech, and I wish I lived in a forest of these beautiful trees. Their bark is white, the leaves turn a lovely yellow in fall, and they produce delicious little nuts. Beech trees were common in the south during certain climatic stages of the Pleistocene, and as I mentioned in my blog entry “Pleistocene Passenger Pigeon Populations,” I think it’s a clue that passenger pigeon populations skyrocketed when beech was common because beech can grow and spread from sprouts. The absence of passenger pigeons feeding allows more oak acorns to survive, and oaks outcompete beech.
The Congaree Swamp is probably as old as the Okefenokee Swamp
No studies on the age of the Congaree Swamp have been conducted as far as I know, but I assume it formed about the same time as the Okefenokee which became a swamp between 7,000-8,000 years ago following the final dissolution of the Canadian glacial Lake Agassiz when the water table rose all across the continent. Throughout much of the Pleistocene, the region around the Congaree River was likely a mixture of upland oak and pine forests and savannahs with only scattered marshes perhaps near creeks and beaver ponds. Particularly dry climatic stages even hosted oak scrub and sand dune environments. It’s possible this region has repeatedly converted and re-converted to swamps with every full blown interglacial.
A comparison between my 1988 trip to the Congaree with my experience in 2011
The park system has considerably upgraded the facilities since I was here last in 1988. Then, there was a gravel parking lot, and nothing else other than some gray paint marks on trees to demarcate the trails. I hiked by myself in late July and was impressed with the giant trees. This was before 1989 when Hurricane Hugo flattened many of the trees, but even then there were quite a few felled trees. I saw a deer resting on a log, a scarlet king snake, and about a billion orb-weaving spiders that built webs across the entire trail at about 1 foot intervals. After about 5 hours of enjoying nature, I became paranoid that I didn’t know what trail I was on, and I began jogging because I didn’t want to get lost in the park after dark–I feared the potential threat from feral hogs and rabid raccoons. I didn’t see a single person while I was there until I got back to my car and met a park ranger.
Today, the Harry Hampton Visitor center is located at the entrance of the park. It’s an air conditioned haven with clean lavatories. Though the park is still not crowded, we did cross paths with many people. Moreover, there is a pleasant 2.4 mile boardwalk which made the park accessible for us because my wife is wheelchair bound.
The lower boardwalk goes through a cypress-tupelo swamp. The upper boardwalk goes through a bottomland forest dominated by sweetgum, loblolly pine, red maple, river birch, and ash. I only saw a few oaks here–water, swamp chestnut, and willow; though in other areas of the park they’re more common. Holly trees are common in the understory, and there are occasional patches of palmetto. I saw no paw paw trees here, but I remember there were many on the trails.
The trails are now color coded, so there is little danger of becoming confused as to which trail one is on as I did 23 years ago. The paint marks are on trees for the hiker to follow.
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