SCAR Adventure – Day 2: Sand, Swamps & Spanish Moss Dreams
Morning revealed itself slowly on Day 2. A thin veil of fog lifted off the lake while a crisp 37-degree breeze worked its way through camp. Heath started on a morning brew, Matt stayed cocooned in his hammock to savor the scene, and the 3 of us quietly soaked in one of those rare moments where adventure and peace overlap. Eventually, the chill broke, the sun warmed the tree line, and we packed up for what would become one of the most unforgettable days of the entire SCAR.
Heath working on morning coffee for everyone
Matt still nestled in his hammock like a cocoon
Matt had pieced together an alternate route for Day 2—one that promised deeper forest, more solitude, and some of the most scenic riding the Southeast has to offer. Once the bikes were loaded, we rolled out…and immediately dove straight back into sand.
Back Into the Sand & Into the Wild
The early sand was loose but manageable, nothing like the deep trenches from Day 1. Southbound, the terrain opened into the region near Sumter, SC—an area familiar to both Matt and me from our time racing National Enduro events there. It’s wild country: endless pines, tight woods, and remote stretches where you feel completely untethered from civilization.
By the time we reached Manchester State Forest, the world went quiet. We found ourselves alone on flowing trails of sand, hard-packed clay, and scattered gravel, surrounded by wildlife and towering pines. Deer darted through the trees, turkeys scattered across the trail, and every mile felt like a postcard from a place most riders will never see.
My KTM 890 humbly laid over in the mud hole
Small Town Fuel & the Uphill Mud Gauntlet
Around midday we popped out of the forest and into one of the many small towns scattered along the SCAR. Fuel first, lunch supplies second, and then it was back into the forest toward what would become the biggest challenge of the day.
A 100-yard uphill mud pit.
Not ruts.
Not puddles.
An actual mud gauntlet.
Matt went first—the mud grabbed his bike and tossed it side to side, but he muscled it up using the right line. Heath followed, taking the left side, and somehow kept the bike upright even as the mud tried its best to spin him around.
Then it was my turn.
About a third of the way up, the mud won. The front dug in, the balance went, and I found myself tipped over and stuck in a hole deep enough to swallow a boot. Matt and Heath hiked back down, helped push and grunt the bike free, and eventually we wrestled my bike to the top. We dropped our gear, ate our lunch right there in the middle of the forest, and laughed about how these are the moments that make ADV riding what it is. Ridiculous. Humbling. And incredibly fun.
Francis Marion National Forest: A Ride Through Another World
After lunch we continued southeast toward the coast, weaving through small towns, forest roads, sand, and red clay until we reached one of the most magical sections of the entire trip: Francis Marion National Forest.
Words struggle here.
The terrain changed constantly—wide stretches of pine forest with soft underbrush, fast sandy straights, wildlife darting across the trail, and sunlight pouring through the dust behind us. Then the landscape shifted again, closing into a low canopy draped in Spanish moss that formed a tunnel of light and shadow. It felt like we’d ridden into another reality.
It’s the kind of place that makes you forget you’re on a motorcycle at all. You’re just… moving. Floating through scenery that feels untouched and impossibly beautiful. It’s the kind of riding that makes people fall in love with adventure all over again.
Our Quaint Air BnB on Folly Beach at the end day 2 on the SCAR
To the Coast, Over the Ravenel Bridge & Into Folly Beach
Eventually, gas dictated our exit from the forest. The smell of salt air hit as we approached the coast, and soon we were rolling through Mount Pleasant traffic—still buzzing from the magic of the woods—as we made our way across the Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge. The views from the bridge were stunning: the Cooper River, the Charleston skyline, and the wide open expanse of the Lowcountry.
We pushed through Charleston and continued all the way to Folly Beach, where we’d booked an Airbnb for the night. When we pulled in, we were genuinely in disbelief: a spacious 3/2 home with a pool, hot tub, and walking distance to the beach. After a long day of sand, clay, mud, and miles, it felt like luxury.
We showered, relaxed, and walked into town for dinner at Loggerheads—a local favorite—and enjoyed a proper meal before heading back. The night ended with ping pong, darts, cornhole, plenty of laughter, and the comfortable exhaustion that only comes from a full day on the trail.
We stayed up a little too late, riding the energy of a perfect Day 2, but eventually drifted off to sleep knowing an entirely different kind of adventure was waiting for us in the morning.
Day 2 delivered everything: challenging terrain, unbelievable scenery, camaraderie, and a coast-to-forest experience that defined the SCAR at its best.
