What Comes Next?

Hello again!

Man have we been busy, between work, school, life, applying for grad school and jobs, and my graduation show I've hardly had a minute to think about kayaking but it's always been there in the back of my mind.

Abby and I are making a plan to put our kayaks in the headwaters of the Mississippi and paddle down to New Orleans.

We went down to the Yankeetown seafood festival and sold homeade t-shirts to raise a little money. Kayaking long distances can get expensive. Thanks so much to everyone who bought a shirt, we are glad you're all excited for us and we're excited about the portable solar panel we were able to get with your help!

If you're a fan of Facebook and would rather follow us there you can at www.facebook.com/AASourceToSea

River Reflections

Hold your horses because this might get a little sentimental. 

It’s been a few months so I feel ready to make some reflections.  Slowly but surely I am working my way through these and fixing my shameful spelling and grammar errors (I am blaming them on writing at the end of paddling days on an iPhone without my glasses).

ANYWAY

When we got to the sign marking the end of the Suwannee and the start of the Gulf of Mexico I am ashamed to admit that I shed a solitary and poetic tear.  It may not have been poetic, actually, but it felt that way.  I had finished, with two of the most wonderful people i know, a great adventure.  I had seen more of my homestate in the course of 12 days than many people see in 12 years. I have frequently thought about our time with the Suwannee in the past month or so since we finished.  There is very little that I would like to do as much as I would like to go back to the beginning and see the whole river again. 

This blog still gets way more page views than my ramblings and poor grammar deserve and I have been emailed by so many wonderful folks who have questions about details or want to go on their own trip.  All I can say is thank you for your support and that I am sorry I am not a great resource but I will continue to do my best to answer any questions y’all have for me. I have been so encouraged about the overall state of the world by the overwhelming response of people who feel compelled by my weird trip to go outside and appreciate Florida’s incredible natural spaces. 

If you're interested in kayaking/canoeing the Suwannee yourself here are some links that I found helpful when planning our trip and one piece of advice PACK OUT YOUR TRASH!!!

- www.canoe-suwannee.com
- www.paddling.net is a GREAT resource for all sorts of trips, I especially like this suwannee river report:
- www.paddling.net/places/showReport.html?1688
- johnnymolloy.com/florida/
- backshortly.wordpress.com/boating/suwanee-river-agenda/
That last one is a great resource as far as mile marks so that you know where you are on the river, it helps the day pass a little bit quicker if you know what to look for.

I hope all of your adventures go well!

Hello Gulf Of Mexico!

Day 12!

The sun is a reliable alarm clock, we woke up early and made quick work of breaking down our campsite.  We were all a little unsure of how the day would go.  We knew we needed to time our final paddle out to the gulf and back according to the tides and we weren’t really sure what to do once we were done.  But we, as usual, threw caution to the wind (which was quite significant this morning) and headed out.  

We were only a mile from the mouth of the Suwannee and I’m not sure what I expected.  Certainly not open ocean, having grown up near the gulf I know it’s all salt marsh and small islands so I didn’t expect to round a bend and then to be in the sea but I have to admit, it was, as far as finishes go, a little anticlimactic.  We reached a sign that pointed out toward the gulf and in toward the river and celebrated with a drink and by throwing glitter at each other.  

We had to get back to land though and to a road because Patti would be picking us up in a few hours to head home.  We headed up some small creeks chasing after porpoises and manatees (we saw both!) and wove through a maze of creeks in the salt marsh looking for the boat ramp we had decided to meet my mom at.  Finally, after about an hour of fighting an outgoing tide, we pulled our boats out of the water and walked across the street for a celebratory lunch.  Patti picked us up and we unpacked our boats and fell into the car completely exhausted and ready to nap and sleep in a real bed again.

That's a wrap, folks!

Some Boat Ramps Are Myths

Day Eleven

It is our last full day of paddling on the river.  We will be headed down and camping about 5 mile from the gulf so we plan to make the most of this last day. 

—

Early in the day as we were paddling I saw a family of boar (since I was leading the kayak caravan I got the best view of wildlife) and a few white tailed deer.  

Margaret swears she saw an elephant.  We laughed at her but when we googled it we learned that apparently there are people in the area who own elephants or work for an elephant sanctuary so maybe she really did see one! Regardless, we mocked her thoroughly for her inability to tell the difference between an elephant and a large rock.

I had learned that Suwannee, apparently, comes from the Timucuan Indian word Suwani meaning “crooked black water”.  Today was overcast and the name seemed more appropriate than ever as we entered a winding section of the river that looked more black than its usual orange color under the clouds.  

Abby was exhausted (hungover) so I offered to pull her.  I pulled her for about an hour and a half before I forgot she was there and enthusiastically paddled toward the shore to look at a crazy flower.  She woke up with a face full of pine needles and decided she would just paddle herself from then on. It hurts so much when your hard work and care is unappreciated.

For lunch we stopped at the Fowler’s Bluff Ramp and all feasted merrily and looked over our growing collection of river maps.  

After lunch the sky cleared up and the wind shifted to be at our backs, a welcome treat, and we made relatively quick progress until it started to get dark and we began to hear thunder.  Margaret likes to paddle slowly and steadily near the shore and admire the plantlife, Frankie and I paddle in quick spurts and then slow down and drift for a minute.  All in all our paces are fairly evenly matched but it did mean that when it started to rain we were about half a mile ahead of Margaret.  We decided to wait out the rain by tying our kayaks up to the bottom of a USGS observation tower in the middle of the river.  The USGS is excellent at not only collecting data about the Suwannee but also building structures to keep the rain off while you use your stove to cook dinner in your kayak. Eventually the rain passed and we found Margaret, we were only about a mile from our campsite so we all went on together.

Based on the map we THOUGHT there was a boat ramp up a small creek so we paddled up a creek through a swamp for about 45 minutes before we realized we had been misled.  We turned around and returned to the river to look for solid ground.  The only other campground was about 4 miles downriver and night was coming on quickly and the rain was threatening to start again.

We paddled quickly and the closer we got to our supposed campground the more we realized that although tides had never entered into our minds they were definitely something we should have considered.  We fought against the incoming tide until we got to the town of Suwannee.  We paddled up a few canals looking for the Anderson Landing river camp but couldn’t find it and couldn’t find anyone who knew anything about it.  Eventually we met some folks who knew the owner of a marina and suggested we sleep on the dock.  We set up our tents and made friends with some locals.  Abby and I walked into town for pie.  Margaret went to sleep.  When we got back it started raining and thundering and we hunkered down in our tents for the night thankful for full bellies, cold gatorade, and peanut butter pie.

Darn Youths

Day Ten

We woke up and discussed the interesting things that had happened in the night.  There was a dog that barked at us for about an hour. A truck that played country music loudly for about thirty minutes.  A speed boat with a Guy Fieri look a like.  Surely some of these things were hallucinations? No.  The Suwannee is just a weird place. 

We wanted to get to Manatee Springs by the end of the day which meant we had to go about 23 miles. We planned to take a halfway stop at Fanning Springs because it is beautiful and because there is food.  Also, Fanning Springs was one of the mile markers I was most excited for.  Passing under i-75 earlier in the week had been a cool moment because I had driven over the same spot before but passing under 19 was something I was especially looking forward to since I pass it everytime I drive home from FSU and have always liked looking out over the bridge and down at the river below it. 

We started seeing more and more houses along the river banks as the day passed and even started seeing some alligators again.  Only fifty miles earlier it would have shocked me to see a boat racing by but at this point in the river it is a sight we see every thirty or so minutes.  We are in the most crowded section of the river and our days are going to be, unfortunatly, less flexible since soon there will be only marsh on the sides of the river and campsites will be harder to find.  

At around 12:30 we tied off at Fanning Springs and paid our fee at the honor box.  We walked into town to eat lunch at The Lighthouse Restaurant and get a few supplies from a convenience store.  We spent about two hours at the spring swimming and playing in the water.  We slathered on some fresh sunscreen, admired turtles, got some clean water, borrowed an outlet, and then pushed on.  

We paddled slowly, doing more drifting than paddling, and stopped multiple times to swim and admire interesting flowers or climb trees.  We are having trouble with bugs for the first time since we started but we learned that if you wedge a stick of citronella incense in the deck bungee or hold it behind your ear while it burns that it pretty effectively keeps the mosquitos away.  

Around 7:30 we got to Manatee Springs State Park.  I have since learned that perhaps we were not supposed to camp here.  But it was dark and there was a walkway between the dock that was at least a quarter mile so I am not sure if there was a sign that I missed or if we were allowed to do that. We put our money in the honor box and hung our hammocks out on the dock.  After cooking our dinners (more macaroni and cheese) we were more than ready for bed.  25 miles will wear you right out.  

At some point in the night some local youths were standing on the dock no less than ten feet from our hammocks shining flashlights into the water looking for gators, peeing off the edge of the dock, commenting on our bravery for camping on a dock where alligators would crawl up and eat us, and generally doing a good job of being loud and annoying.  I’m glad they were enjoying Manatee Springs as well but it made me feel like an old woman because I only wanted to shake my fist at them and demand that they simmer down. I appreciate their enthusiasm and admiration but I would appreciate even more a solid sleep.

We heard sturgeon splashing and gators calling all night.  We had been told that there might be manatees further up the spring but when we woke up this morning we saw nothing except for one million turtles.  I love turtles so although I was disappointed with the lack of manatees I was not too upset about the situation. Turtles are always an appreciated consolation.

Every Day Is A Good Day With Your Friends

Day 9

Today we went from mile 62 to mile 43 and, most excitingly Margaret joined us!

We pushed our kayaks out from Sims Landing and made our characteristic slow but steady progress downstream.  Without paddling we move at about 1 to 1.5 mph, with paddling we can get up to about 4. We didn’t paddle much.  Instead, we lashed our kayaks together and enjoyed the scenery and talked to Margaret about her time on the AT which she had just completed.  

At around noon we passed Bob’s River Place.  I had been here in the summer with my cousin Raewyn to check out Bob’s supposedly legendary collection of ropeswings, then, the water had been at a super low and there had been hundreds of people.  Now the water was relatively high and we were the only ones there.  We sat on the dock and at our lunches (tortillas with salsa, crushed potato chips, pre-cooked bacon, and some lettuce... aka portable BLT) and went for a quick swim.  Bob did not show himself so we could not congratulate him on his first rate rope swings. 

We kept going until we got to the Eula Landing ramp at mile 46.  We stopped to swim and make dinner.  We watched the sun go down while I sat on the dock and typed up a homework assignment to submit for school.  Even school work can be pleasant if you do it in the right place.  

When the sun was down we put our headlamps at the front of our kayaks and started paddling.  We had wanted to do some night paddling from day one to see what the river was like when it was dark out. 

I like to think I’m not too silly.  I like to think that I have a relatively logical mind.  However, all I can say is that kayaking in the dark and listening to animals and looking at the stars is a fairly magic experience and one that I hope everyone gets to enjoy at least  once.  If it is in your plans to kayak the Suwannee I would recommend making sure you get an evening trip.  The lower Suwannee is perfect for a late paddle because unlike the upper Suwannee when the river was narrow enough that if we lined our kayaks end to end we could block it off the lower Suwannee is, at some places, a hundred or more yards across.  This means that at night there is little to no risk of crashing into trees, something I barely avoid in the day light. 

At around 10:00 we arrived at the Hart Springs ramp and tied the three kayaks onto the dock.  We strung our hammocks up in a line on the dock’s posts over the water and curled up for the night.  I think I understand the appeal of piracy now if it means you get to sleep in a hammock that shifts in the water and listen to the water all around you.

convict springs rotating bridge

Know Your Limits

Day Eight

Today's story ends with a lesson about knowing your personal limits. 

We wake up everyday when the sun comes up.  You don’t need an alarm clock if you’re outside and moving constantly.  It’s kind of nice, when it gets dark we accept that it’s time to sleep.  And when the sun comes up we accept that it’s time to be moving.  This morning though when I woke up I could not make myself move.  We spent a while at the park so I could lay on the ground, charge our phones, and type up the previous days notes.  I did not want to move today. 

Ten miles downriver the Suwannee meets the Santa Fe river.  About one mile up the Santa Fe is an RV Park with a restaurant.  We set our sights on BLTs.  Unfortunately I was moving especially slowly and Abby offered, again, to tow me for a while.  I was so exhausted that I couldn’t justify saying no.  I am lucky to have a paddling buddy who is so patient, who doesn't mind my singing, my snoring, or my knock knock jokes, and pulls me downriver when the day is too much for me.  This would have been a completely different trip if not for the always wonderful Abby. 

I napped for twenty or so minutes and then woke up with just enough energy to make it to lunch.  When we saw the big fork in the river we made a choice, keep paddling downriver to camp, or take a detour one mile upriver to food. We choose food.  

Here’s the thing.  We had spent about 8 days and 140 miles going “downhill” as I like to think about it.  We thought were fairly well equipped physically after this kind of padlding.  We underestimated how much it would hurt to go upstream.  The Santa Fe is a fast moving river and it was raining and the banks were cypress swamp.  I may be being slightly dramatic but Abby confirms this memory of the river.  It took us forever to get to the RV park but once there we were rewarded with an air conditioned place to wait out the rain and eat sweet potato fries.  A nice man bought us our lunch.  Again, I repeat, we are forever grateful for the kindness of strangers and the encouragement they offer when they see us sunburned and mildewed getting off the river. 

After lunch we pushed out and, exhausted and coughing, set up the hammock where the Santa Fe meets the Suwannee to take a nap.  I woke up feeling worse.  

Our ideal campsite was ten miles downriver at Gornto State Park.  After about 3 miles though it became clear that I was not up to the task.  Feeling guilty that I was demanding an early stop we got off the water at Sims Landing, a boat ramp at mile 62. 

It is Thursday night and we are going to take a break to rest and recover.  When we start again, though, our friend Margaret will be with us!

I don't feel well but I will always appreciate a good rope swing.

I Curse The Name Of Bruce

Day Seven

I woke up with another splitting headache and coughing.  Maybe it was the peacocks who screeched all through the night.  Whatever it was it was a hard day for me, I couldn’t seem to wake up and we had to stop twice so I could take a thirty minute nap before going on.  Thinking that maybe i was feeling poorly because I was exhausted and dehydrated I dedicated myself to eating as much and drinking as much water as possible during the day.  This made me feel a little better physically and it made me feel incredible emotionally because like everyone in my family I love to eat. 

I was pursuaded into my kayak by the fact that Maya, who we met at Holton Creek had told us that a few miles downriver from Peacock Slough was Convict Springs where we could get a hot breakfast.  We got there to find the restaurant closed.  Not to be discouraged though we bought some m&ms and cheezits

 and sat by the spring to eat them and swim.  

We asked the store owners where we purchased the m&m’s why it was called Convict Springs and learned that the spring used to be home to convicts, surprise surprise.  A hundred yards prior we had passed an old rotating bridge which was apparently bought and shipped from Brazil and the convicts used it somehow in the process of milling grain.  I am not clear on the details.  Apparently it took four men to crank the bridge to rotate it.  Every day there are new things that make me stop and think “I’ll have to look that up when I get home.”

On we paddled disappointed at the lack of breakfast but knowing that the further we went the closer we would be to food.  Our goal for the night was Ivey Memorial Park in Branford where we had heard there was both camping and easy access to food and stores. 

We were so hungry by our missed breakfast that we took a break when we passed the Adam’s Tract river camp to take a quick nap.  We met the folks who took care of the camp and they explained that the folks who act as camp hosts are all volunteers, typically young college students, who offer to spend a season living at the campsite and making sure no one causes too much of a ruckus. 

After a quick power nap and a swim we paddled on, encouraged that we only had eleven miles to go before we could sleep.

We were so hungry that we told each other stories about “maybe there will be a restaurant on the river that isn't on any of our maps”.  Suddenly we saw a dock in the distance that said “Bruce’s Backyard Bar B Que Restaurant”.  We could hardly believe our eyes.  All of our dreams were coming true.  We paddled as fast as we could to the dock, commenting that it looked a little like it might fall over, and tied our boats up.  We ran up the steps to find that the sign was a lie.  This was someone’s home.  They just thought they were being clever, we thought they were breaking our hearts.  Weary and more than a little embarrassed we got back into our kayaks and cursed the name of Bruce. 

At about 5:30 we stopped at Troy Springs (mile 70ish, we think) to swim.  We’ve seen about a dozen small springs today on the sides of the river.  They are cold, clear, and beautiful. I love to drift past them and see all the turtles under the water and watch the blue water mix with the orangey tannin colored water.  it is mesmerising.  

We finally got to Ivey Park where we were staying tonight.  We had a nice talk with some folks from UF who were somehow affiliated with the UF IFIS office I think.  They were out looking for sturgeon to admire, we told them about the sturgeon that had almost flopped into my kayak earlier.  

While we were pulling our boats out of the water we were stopped by a kind older couple who wanted to know what we were up to.  They drove us up the road and bought us our dinner. People claim that Florida isn’t really part of the south but if I know anything about Southern hospitality then central Florida is apparently as southern as it gets. 

We spent the night at the boat ramp.  I was running a slight fever so I did my best to drink as much water as possible.  The boat ramp had about seven or so stray cats that came to check out our campsite.  As a cat lover this soothed me.  Cats would take care of us.  Cats wouldn't let raccoons eat our food. Cats wouldn't let me be kidnapped in the night by bears and made to spend my remaining years as a housekeeper for bears.

We fell asleep listening to sturgeon splashing and cars passing on the nearby road.  Not as nice as our nights in the middle of the woods, but no complaints.

Convict Springs, my legs are dark and the water is blue.  Only in Florida!

Flood level water markers, look at that '98 flood! It was only up a few feet under our house but here it was incredible apparently.

USGS bouys are everywhere.  This one needs a good cleaning.

The spring at Ivey Park.  Beautiful.