A trip to: Pickwick Lake & Shiloh Battlefield

Sundays are for sleeping in. PERIOD!

Yesterday we visited the Wolf River Greenway, which was all we had planned to do over the weekend. I usually proclaim Sundays as my “rest” day and organize for the week ahead. However, still riding high with enthusiasm for our endeavor to adopt an outdoors-focused active lifestyle and crush our fitness goals, all promises to do absolutely nothing with our Sunday flew out the window when my brother called and asked if the kids and I wanted to go swimming at a lake on Sunday.

Absolutely. Are you kidding me? I mean, it’s SWIMMING! And who turns down an opportunity to get in a little bit of sun worship?!

It turns out that the answer to that question is my oldest son and my daughter. My oldest son was sad to miss out, but he had to work. My daughter declined as she takes her beauty sleep seriously, and I do not hold that against her at all! That meant that, just like Saturday, it was me and my 17 year old son. Surprisingly, my mother wanted to go, too!

But where?

Our usual muddy swimming hole located is Sardis, MS. It is one of two lakes we frequented as a family when I was growing up, and I have shared the love of our favorite picnic and camping spot with my own children. It is a safe space full of shared nostalgia, even if the lake water is a muddy brown and akin to swimming in warm pee.

Ah, memories.

My brother and I were torn on whether to return our usual spot or try something new. On a whim, we decided to head to Pickwick Lake around an hour and a half away. We were promised clear water, and that is all it took.

Pickwick was not what we expected, but I feel like that was because — again, much like yesterday — we did not do our due diligence to research the best location to settle in for the day. We entered the park in Counce, TN. I think?

Due to the pandemic, we had certain standards that our site had to abide by, namely that socially distancing was possible, and some of the beach areas were entirely too crowded to meet those expectations. We did end up finding a smaller swimming hole with less people with a really great picnic spot by the water, but the beach area was almost as muddy as the lake we usually visit and just as warm. For some reason I thought Pickwick was a spring-fed lake, and I expected much a much cooler welcome than the water gave me.

Either way, we swam. And roasted hotdogs and marshmallows over a fire. And just enjoyed being outdoors, even in the 100 degree heat. No regrets.

As we ended up getting a much later start than we anticipated, we were not able locate any hiking trails, but that just means we have a reason to go back, and I do think we will. The park has cabins, pontoon boat rentals, and even an updated Inn with indoor/outdoor polls, but mostly I want to go back and find this waterfall and rope swing I keep hearing about in Yellow Creek Cove.

Nearby Pickwick Lake is the Shiloh National Military Park. The park is a 5,000 acre battlefield with various statues, landmarks denoting military conflicts, and cemeteries. The cemeteries, mass Confederate graves, and Native American burial grounds are a somber backdrop to a stunningly beautiful drive along tree-lined paths surrounded by the occasional sunny meadow full of deer and turkey.

A quick walk down to a bubbling spring and we were surrounded by Mother Nature’s whispers, both eerily quiet and a cacophony of life. The swiftly moving water, the singing insects, the rustle of leaves as animals made their way through the surrounding brush. We held our breath and listened for the ghosts of the past, imagining the darkness that would envelop these woods once the sun went down, and turned out face to the skies, yearning to see the stars that we both knew were hidden by the blue skies above.

As a pacifist, I do not like to romanticize war, and as a Mississippi progressive, I seriously doubted that a visit to a Civil War battlefield would be enjoyable for me, especially as someone who loves the South but is ashamed of its unwillingness to move beyond its Confederate past.

However, as a nature lover, it was the perfect way to end our day. It was a beautiful backdrop that provided me an opportunity to continue an ongoing conversation I have with my son regarding the South’s past and present, however similar they may seem at times, as well as the part that we could play in shaping its future.

As a family, we often grow so very weary of being what feels like a tiny Blue dot in a Red state, and oftentimes we fantasize about moving elsewhere to leave behind the weight of racism, oppression, and injustice that the powerful in this state seem so determined to continue forcing its citizens to struggle beneath. However, there is dignity in appreciating the scenic beauty and genuine charm of the South while condemning its racist history and fighting for real change.