Hello, friends!
I’m excited to share some photos and reflections about my recent visit to Swamp Rabbit Trail. But first, I want to acknowledge what an incredibly awesome and unifying event so many of us experienced in the solar eclipse this week! My social media has been flooded with images from all over North America. It’s been so cool to see people collectively marveling in an astronomical event. Kathi and I had talked about driving to someplace along the path, but ultimately stayed home. Our dog, Annie, injured her back last week and is facing a slow recovery. When we could get a follow up with the vet for 11 a.m. Monday there was no question that our love and concern for our little 10 pound pup was greater than the call of the sun and the moon. (She does seem to be getting her spunk back, by the way.)
I also want to take a moment to reflect on perspective. I saw some eclipse negativity in a Facebook group the other day. The comment that stood out the most was, “That’s what sucks: that everyone in that zone this year will spend all the money and get a cloudy day, will see it get dark for 4 minutes then pack up and go home!?!?”
My first thought when I read this was around the groundlessness of being human. This isn’t my phrase. I learned it from Pema Chödrön. As a species, we struggle with uncertainty and change – with groundlessness, so to speak. Eclipse day clouds are part of that uncertainty. There are no fair weather guarantees.
My second thought was around how the comment was so off-base, in my view. Whether they encountered clear skies or clouds, those who traveled to see the eclipse aren’t people to feel sorry for. Whether they booked a year out or made a spontaneous trip up to the lakeshore, these are the people among us with a sparkle in their eyes, who can stomach adventure, and won’t allow their enthusiasm to be dimmed by the brevity of the eclipse. They are consumed by wonder and awe, not by what might go wrong. It’s a matter of perspective.
Speaking of booking a year out, what an economic boon for communities! Isn’t this map depicting Airbnb rentals from this week wild?
My last thought on this had to do with a passage from the book Appalachian Winter, in which the author, Marcia Bonta, writes about snowflakes. She quoted the early 20th century photographer W.A. Bentley, who had said:
“Some folks call me crazy. They want to know what good it does to get all those pictures of just snow…I think I see as much around here to enjoy, right here on my farm, as those who call me a fool. Most of them have never seen a darned thing.”
So here’s to perspective as well as to noticing what’s around you. Maybe it’s a snowflake or maybe it’s an eclipse, but there is so much wonder to be had if we are open to noticing.
Side note: Had this eclipse occurred 100 years ago, Snowflake Bentley could have witnessed it from his family farm in Vermont along the path of totality. I’m pretty sure he would have taken it in and made some photos.
Swamp Rabbit Trail Visit
Okay! On to the Swamp Rabbit. My last post included a poll that asked all of you what I should write about next. A Swamp Rabbit Trail trip report was the top pick. I stopped by the trail in early December. I had been in nearby Spartanburg, South Carolina attending the Appalachian Leadership Institute (and also had given a keynote presentation at the Carolina Thread Trail Forum in neighboring North Carolina).
I had some extra time on my last day and went to explore the trail in Travelers Rest (TR). A city of 8,486 people, TR is a growing community and a “trail town” if ever there was one. Though there doesn’t seem to be an organized trail town initiative along the Swamp Rabbit Trail, the community looks and feels more like a trail town than most others I’ve visited.
The roughly 20-mile trail connects this small mountain town to nearby Greenville (pop. 72,310), with a university in between. With additional lines, more miles are being added to the system, creating more options for trail users. The Swamp Rabbit seems to be heavily used and positively regarded by local and regional residents, and is even marketed by a local inn as a cycling vacation destination. It also has the backing of the regional healthcare provider, the trail’s full name being the Prisma Health Swamp Rabbit Trail.
What struck me the most as I walked the trail and downtown area was that the trail itself felt like a second Main Street. In fact, most retail businesses had both a front and a rear entrance. So often, trail town professionals talk about the importance of communities not turning their backs on their trails. From my own book:
“What we don’t want to do is turn an entire community’s back to the trail…Giving trails the ‘front door’ treatment is a matter of tangible connections and is also a matter of cultural shift.”
TR has accomplished both. They’ve done a fantastic job of blending its shared use trail with local commerce, where you can literally walk off the trail into the rear entrances and courtyards of any number of local establishments. Not only have the boutiques and breweries tied into the trail, but all sorts of businesses have. Case in point: I saw signs for both Trailside CPA and Trailhead Chiropractic while I was in town.
I was also impressed by the way that rabbits just pop up all over the place in TR: in murals and abstract art along the trail, wooden cutouts, in business names, and more. As I talked with a woman working at Swamp Rabbit Tees (where you can buy trail-themed clothing, postcards, mugs, and even decorative pillows), I commented on how the trail and rabbits seem to be embedded in the culture. That’s when she told me, “Rabbits are kind of what we do here.” All of this and it’s hard to believe the trail opened just 15 years ago in 2009. Cultural shift takes time, though in TR and Greenville County not all that long.
If you’re like me and you think about the benefits of trails as well as the impacts, you might be wondering about how the trail’s presence has transformed TR over the years. There were so many cute little shops, more than I typically see in a trail community. I wondered what the tradeoffs have been and whether any longtime residents or businesses have been priced out of the area.
I spent some time online trying to see how TR’s changed in recent years. What I found was that people there seem to be planning for growth and having the right kinds of conversations. In 2019, a proposed trailside townhouse development was debated at a city council meeting. Residents, local leaders, and developers discussed whether the project was consistent with the city’s master plan (“Smart growth or change in character?” was the headline from the local paper). These are important conversations for communities to be having. Smart growth, community character, and affordable, quality housing are issues being considered in places everywhere. I was pleased to find that the county has an affordable housing organization (the Greenville Housing Fund) with some properties in TR. Housing affordability is not exclusively a trail issue, but certainly trails are amenities that can make a community or neighborhood more desirable and affect demand. When we acknowledge this, we can plan for trails in a transparent, inclusive, and thoughtful way. It seems they may be doing just this in TR.
To wrap up, TR is a lovely community, one that opens up to the trail in a way most places dream of. It was evident that the trail is a valued part of community life. When I was there, there were signs on the trail encouraging residents to take a survey related to the city’s next comprehensive plan. As I saw someplace locally, “things are hoppening” along the Swamp Rabbit Trail.
In Gratitude
Recently, I’ve gotten some new blog sign ups thanks to referrals from Tom Bilcze, who blogs about cycling. Learn more about Tom here and definitely sign up for his Tom on the Trails account. Tom’s the Board President of the 326-mile Ohio to Erie Trail and brings so much great perspective to his blog. Thanks for writing, Tom, and for recommending my account!
Thanks for supporting the trails and sharing these great little trail town stories.