Hunting an Ancient Giant

In Gates County, North Carolina lies a State Park built around an old millpond filled with cypress, beech, and tupelo gum trees. In the early 1800’s a sawmill, gristmills, farm supply stores, and other businesses made the Millpond a hub for trading. Merchant’s Millpond as it came to be known eventually closed down their operations shortly before World War II and the land was donated to the State.

Merchant’s Millpond State Park now protected by the State for over 50 years hosts some of Northeastern North Carolina’s most interesting biodiversity. Several species of lizards, frogs, snakes, mammals, and birds each call this “enchanted” swamp home. If you are from the area it’s likely you’ve heard of the park’s most intriguing residents, the legendary American Alligator. This State Park is the most northern region that American Alligators will stay year-round and while there are only 3 confirmed individuals, it still makes for an exciting visit.

Spring leaves shown in full color on Tupelo Gum Trees.

Though, this story isn’t about the American Alligator, but rather a more sedentary resident. Tucked away on the edge of the Millpond and up a nearby creek that only becomes accessible after a good rain, stands a towering bald cypress tree. Estimations of its age have been around 1,000-1,500 years old and it has been called the 2nd largest tree in North Carolina. After finding this out and being only 45 minutes from my house, my friends and I began to plan an amateur expedition to find this tree.

Quickly, I reached out to my buddies Bill, Trey and his girlfriend Carly, my Dad, and my girlfriend Elyssa to see if they’d be interested in going on a semi-wild goose chase for an old tree deep in a North Carolina swamp known to have alligators and venomous snakes. All of them were totally down for it, though it took some slight convincing. The journey planned would take us on an 8 mile paddle through thick swampy conditions and over many obstacles along the way.

Leaving the dock around 11:00am in the morning the six of us began the venture fully stocked with lunch, beverages, and snacks for the day. Unfortunately my Dad misplaced his kayak paddle and resorted to using a single oar the whole time, which was crazy to me. I had called the visitor’s center beforehand to get a rough location of the bald cypress tree. The ranger told me “It’s about a mile up Bennett’s Creek, but the trail only becomes visible when the water is higher” “Thanks for the info” I told him. That was plenty to go off of, but without having its location written on a map, everyone held their breath. Trey and I both were navigating with an iPhone app called Gaia GPS and he had planned the quickest route to the tree, an estimated 4 miles to its location up the creek.

A Google Map overview of the route we took to reach the back of the Millpond.

In early April luckily for us, the air was cool and the sky partly cloudy. Further into the Millpond we kayaked, steadily moving around moss covered logs with clumps of duckweed clinging to our paddles as we rowed. The landscape appeared to change as we became surrounded by leaning tupelo gum trees covered in Spanish Moss. It’s true, the further back one kayaks in the Millpond the more the environment begins to transform around you. There was no sign of any alligators that we could tell yet, but we did pass by several species of turtles.

This section of the Millpond was mainly open water just before reaching the back. Kayaking along, Elyssa was swift to notice a snake hanging from one of the bushes up ahead. As we paddled closer she quickly identified it as a non-venomous Brown Water Snake. Cottonmouths look very similar to Brown Water Snakes and though I would’ve loved to have seen a Cottonmouth, thankfully it wasn’t one. Snakes are often feared and misunderstood, not that our group couldn’t handle it, but it was a situation best avoided. I quickly shot a few photographs on my Nikon D3000 and we continued our trip deeper into the Millpond.

This large female Brown Water Snake is sunbathing along a tree branch.

Reaching the outskirts of the pond, trees there became less populated, with many of them sprinkled out across the water. Much of the Millpond’s biodiversity can be found here where it has fewer encounters with humans. Covering the surface of the water, thick collections of yellow pond lilies remained tangled together. Trying to pass through this dense foliage proved to be fairly tiring, but we made short work of it. The lilies went on like this for awhile though, with only a few cleared areas to see. Gratefully, as we drew closer to the entrance of Lassiter Swamp, an opening became clear in the water and our group was able to navigate around the carpets of pond lilies.

A patch of pond lilies around the fringes of the Millpond.

From Gaia GPS we could see that we were near the mouth of Bennett’s Creek. We were making good time, it was only 12:30pm when I checked my phone and from our position the tree should be another 2 miles up. Marking the beginning to Bennetts Creek was a treeline that gradually grew as we progressed nearer. Adjusting our eyes upon entering the creek, we noticed the path narrowed, as if something was blocking the flow of water ahead of us. Carefully investigating, we saw that a bunch of sticks were placed in the water, slowing the flow of the creek. “Damn!” I exclaimed

Beavers must have dammed up part of the creek system we were following. After scratching our heads, we came to the conclusion that the only path forward was to go through the dam. We removed several sticks from the pile, clearing up an opening for the kayaks to get through. After building enough speed, one by one we launched ourselves through to the other side. Once everybody was over, we regrouped to get a better heading on the old cypress.

At the edge of Lassiter Swamp before kayaking into Bennett’s Creek.

I look around at our group to gauge the status of morale, which was still high at this point. Though I didn’t realize my Dad, a 60 year old man who isn’t the epitome of health, is still paddling with his one paddle. “Hats off to you Pops for doing that” I said proudly. He smiled and said jokingly “Well it wasn’t my first choice of paddle.” Bill had been keeping track of our distance kayaked on his FitBit and by this point we had officially gone 3 miles reaching the mouth of Bennetts Creek with just another mile to go.

My father taking a photo of me taking a photo of him. Inception.

Leaving behind the opening to the creek we delved further into the cool clutches of Lassiter Swamp, where the creek was much more shaded than the exposed Millpond. Carly, Trey’s girlfriend, was taking the lead along with Trey navigating not far behind her. Suddenly a shout broke the tranquil silence hanging in the air. “Snnn Snnaaakkkeee!!” Carly exclaimed! I looked up to see that Carly accidentally ran into a small tree with two huge snakes basking on the higher branches. Staring up in complete shock, she tried moving backwards away from the snakes, but was caught in between the tree and a stump. Increasing fear that the snakes would land into her sit-in kayak, she finally shook herself loose and made the escape. Elyssa was able to identify them as another pair of non-venomous Brown Water Snakes, but it was still a sketchy encounter. Once safely around them, Carly continued leading us into the swamp.

Pair of Brown Water Snakes basking on the branch that Carly grabbed.

What’s even more interesting than the snakes we saw, were the ones we didn’t see. Countless times during this quest we pointed out snakes that the others had previously passed by. Again, I generally love all animals with the exception of mosquitoes, but none of us wanted to randomly encounter a venomous snake miles deep in a swamp. We did spot a Cottonmouth with binoculars at one point, but it was a good distance from us.

Bennett’s Creek flows through the Virginia/North Carolina border and feeds into Lassiter Swamp at the Northern end of the Millpond. Currently we were about .5 miles up it and only .5 more until we reach the tree. Suddenly the creek began to taper like earlier and sure enough, another beaver dam was blocking the route. This was about the same size as the previous and knowing how to handle it, we were totally stoked to go through. After removing the sticks, Trey led the push and cleared a path forward.

Bennett’s Creek was providing a lot of shade from the canopy above which was lucky for us, because the intensity of the sun was in full effect. Well into the venture, our party was getting hungry for lunch, along with myself who had a smaller breakfast that morning. With our energy draining, we would need to stop for food soon, for all of our sakes. Closer we drew to the marked location on our GPS.

Once on the creek, the GPS showed a singular stream that extends North to the border, but what it fails to show are the individual streams immediately next to it. Using our best judgment, we stuck close to the main creek on the map, eventually leading us to a fork in the paddle trail. We took a vote and decided to go right, not knowing it separated from the main creek until later.

Our group cutting through Bennett’s Creek into Lassiter Swamp.

We began to notice something different about the landscape. Along the embankment were piles of bones resting at the base of nearby trees. Fish carcasses strewn about, Longnose Gar by the looks of it, were decomposing under the afternoon heat. Bleached from the sun, the skulls were almost white and mostly picked clean. “What do you think did this” I asked the group. “Otters, if I had to guess” said my Dad. “It’s not unlike them to eat most of the fish and leave their heads behind.” We didn’t stick around very long for the lingering smell that grew in the air and paddled further up the fork, finally to where the colossal cypress stood.

The channel we were paddling became narrowed and led us to a downed tree that blocked our path, effectively crushing our spirits. Already covered in mud from helping our group over a dam earlier, I hopped out along with Trey to try moving the tree. Together we lifted the log from the path, so that others could pass. Before advancing further, we looked around for any sign of a big tree, but only saw trees of similar size.

Time had passed and a feeling began to grow in the group that we traveled the wrong direction. Here I invited my Dad, girlfriend and friends on this kayaking trip to hunt for an old tree and was coming up empty-handed.. Unfortunately, the feeling was mutual and I agreed we’d made a mistake in taking this side of the fork. Trey informed me about storms moving in later that day and that rightfully, it would be best that we leave before they arrive. I gazed up the creek in desperate hope that there was a gigantic tree towering over all of the rest, but nothing stuck out.

Remembering the other side forked to the left, Carly mentioned to our group that it may lead to the tree. I latched on to that idea and hoped she was right. Before the storms rolled in later we chose to give it another shot, we had come this far after all. Turning around, our group went back up the creek taking the left fork. Almost immediately we realized that this trail was wider and less concentrated with foliage. “This feels like the right path” I told myself. Trailing behind Carly and Bill we started closing in on the tree’s location.

I kept my eyes open looking for a massive tree, unmistakably larger than all of the rest. “ I think that is it over there!” Carly shouted. Bill chimed in saying “No, that’s not it. Is it?” Turning my head to see plated in ivory bark, a relatively larger tree standing tall above the surrounding woods. Most of its branches were high above the canopy, giving the tree an almost bare look. “I think that’s it.” I said calmly, savoring the moment. It’s ironic at first look it wasn’t nearly as big as I was anticipating and was almost difficult to tell apart from the rest. That soon changed as we kayaked closer. 

An overjoyed Trey and Carly pointing to the massive cypress off camera.

The massive tree we were searching for from a distance.

The legendary Bald Cypress towering above the neighboring trees in Lassiter Swamp.

After docking the kayaks in the mud, we hopped out to see up close this surprisingly illusive tree that we’ve been hunting. The ground was fairly soft, even muddy in some parts, it was in a swamp after all. Walking closer it seemed that it was quite a larger tree when compared to the others. Bald Cypress Trees don’t always get bigger as they age, though for a Bald Cypress, it was a giant among dwarves. Walking around the tree and carefully watching for snakes we truly could get an idea of its size. “This is so sick, I’m stoked we found it!” I said to everyone. High fives and cheers were thrown around and we even took a few group photos standing in front of it. Relishing in the moment a little longer we stared up at the ancient giant before heading to our kayaks for the well-earned comfort of lunch and cold beverages. 

Elyssa standing proudly next to the gigantic tree.

Trey and I standing beneath the sky-scraping cypress.

Trey showing off his strength and what it took to get us there!

Once our bellies were filled and everyone was well rested, our group took note of the location of the old cypress for future trips up Bennetts Creek. We pushed off after our lunch break, tracing the route we took coming in. As it most often is, traveling back was faster than the trip there, even though we took a few moments savoring the gorgeous views of Lassiter Swamp. Though, we didn’t know it yet, we were about to run into an unlikely animal.

Bill and Trey were leading our group out of the swamp and were the first ones to see it. A dark shape upon one of the branches overhanging the creek came into view as we paddled closer. “Cole, get up here and get your camera ready!” Trey said. “What is it!?” I replied excitedly kayaking towards them. Bill pointed and said “ There’s an owl in the trees over there.” Perched carefully on a thin branch above the water was a beautiful Barred Owl surveying the woodlands below. Amazingly, he didn’t pay us much mind and stood as if it were a statue. Cautiously, I pointed my Nikon up and was able to photograph it before it darted away through the canopy.

As our captivation waned we kayaked further down the creek out of Lassiter Swamp and back to the Millpond. Around 3:00 by now the sun was high in the sky. Between the sunshine and paddling, our energy was slowly being sapped. We weaved in and out of the sunlight making the most of the shade beneath the tupelo trees. Much of the experience was drawing to an end, but we wanted to make one last stop before docking…the resident alligators.

Elyssa, Carly, Trey and I had all seen one of the alligators before when we visited the Millpond last, so we had begun heading to that location. Leading the way, I paddled ahead of everyone with Trey and Elyssa at the back. We almost left the grouping of trees signifying the back section of the pond when Carly had yelled ahead to me. “Cole, I think Elyssa is caught on something” she shouted. Elyssa had found herself stuck after having the misfortune to find one of Merchant’s many stumps lurking beneath the surface. Immobilized, panic sank in briefly as she tried to get herself free. I turned around to help when Trey was able to move her by physically lifting the kayak off of the stump. Merchant’s does it’s best to take no prisoners, but thankfully she was freed and we continued on our trek.

The earlier journey was long and tiresome, especially for my Dad. Though his endurance is great, after trekking miles with only one oar, he decided he had enough excitement for one day, wasting no time to make for the dock. We couldn’t blame him in the slightest. With my Dad heading for the exit, the rest of our party continued to the spot known for alligators.

I wish I could say we found one that day, but there was no such luck and we came up empty handed. After much time on the water we were all pretty beat regardless and began following my Dad back to the exit. Our day came to a bittersweet end. Arriving at the dock we grabbed our gear and started climbing out of the kayaks. Each of us began lifting the kayaks from the water and hosing them clean for the drive home. I’m beyond thankful to have embarked on this expedition with my close friends and family. I know I’ll cherish that memory moving forward and onto new adventures. Thank you for reading.