I had long heard stories about a little known fishing hole smack dab in the middle of Santee. A place that is quiet, secluded, and peaceful. A place where the fish just can’t wait to bite and the birds erupt in a chorus of perpetual song. All of this right in the middle of busting Santee.
I couldn’t let a mythical place like this go unexplored. So as the sun was getting a bit low in the sky I set off for Mast Park. I parked in the Walmart parking lot and walked toward what appeared to be a wall of thick brush. However, as I approached I spied a well cut path leading through the bushes and began to follow it. Although easily traversed, the path wound this way and that and wandered to and fro. Occasionally, I would entire stands of bushes and trees covered in the spun silk of web worms, giving the branches and leaves an eerie glow in the filtered sunlight. Continue reading “Mast Park”