Whitewater Rendezvous writeup for the TSRA newsletter

Another Year Brings Another Successful Whitewater Rendezvous

Earth Day 2005 coincided with this year’s Cold Water Camp, I mean Whitewater Rendezvous, TSRA’s biggest fundraiser of the year. Proceeds from the event including the live and silent auctions benefited the Conservation Fund as well as the Pam Floyd Fund. Despite the at-times ominous weather, daytime adventures included paddling and hiking trips, bike rides, scenic drives, wine tastings and some good old-fashioned lounging around at camp. The early birds enjoyed several low water trips on the Obed/Emory system and the Big South Fork. Torrential downpours on Friday morning were followed by clear skies before many of the trips began. Many members of the not-so-ostracized Leper Colony made their maiden voyage of the Tellico while the weather was warm. The Big South Fork group beat the lower Emory group back to camp, even though on paper, the Emory is a much closer run. Temperatures began to fall by the evening as we were tested by what Mary Buckner said was either a “Dogwood Winter” or a “Locust Winter” for the rest of the weekend.

On Saturday, the air felt warmer in Clear Creek gorge than back at camp. Perhaps the gorge was warmer because over forty boaters painted their way down a low water run of Jett to Lilly. At least half a dozen boaters enjoyed their maiden voyages on Clear Creek as part of this trip. Highlights of this trip included many successful and sometimes creative runs of the Grunch as well as many inspired and thankfully non-threatening pins and broaches in the rapids above and below this notorious boat flipper. In homage to the Paddlesnake video that featured important paddling moves such as the “Buddy Boof” and the “Oof”, Mac and Ron demonstrated the “Buddy Broach” above Spinner/Washing Machine.

Between adventures, the Wigwam was the place to be. The fire was going strong from the wee hours to the wee hours. The cold winds on Saturday night forced the auction into the Wigwam where Daniel Boone and his staff of Keystone Kops cajoled contributions to the Conservation Fund from the generous pockets of TSRA members by auctioning off just about everything that didn’t officially belong to Camp Nakanawa. Prize items of the night included an original Kelsey walking stick, expert landscaping services by Diann Woodall, Charlie Penley’s “Big Dog” shirt and, of course, the hat. Woody Woodall introduced a new line of Woodies, metal paddling and biking sculptures to add to his already-coveted line of hand-carved Wood-en boats. Jim Floyd’s generous donation of a Probe 12 canoe to the auction was matched anonymously, raising $1500 for the Pam Floyd Fund for river safety.

Even though Saturday night registered a near record low of 31F in Crossville, several trips went out after the Sunday breakfast and camp cleanup. Other weary souls headed for the warmth of home. Many thanks to all who made this great event happen, from organizer Jim “O Captain! My Captain!” Shelton to all of the first-TSRA-event new members who braved the ominous forecasts to join in the fun.

Okefenokee submission to the TSRA newsletter

Destination Report: Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge
Part 1: The Ins and Outs of Arranging a Swamp Trip

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service maintains and protects nearly 400,000 acres of the Okefenokee Swamp in Southeast Georgia as the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge. The Okefenokee has a history of logging, mining and attempted development. After its designation as a NWR in 1937, private interests in adjacent lands have continued to threaten its existence. Under the refuge management, approximately 20% of the swamp is accessible for day trips and overnight wilderness trips. Canoe trails meander through portions of the northern half of the swamp. Terrain varies from cypress forest to open prairie.

March and April are peak months for the swamp because lots of pretty things begin to bloom, the alligators wake up from their winter siestas and the bugs may not be too aggressive (still, headnets and bug dope are on the recommended gear list). The rest of the year is no less exciting. Winter is a great time for birdwatchers, since the Okefenokee is a popular winter destination for many species including Sandhill Cranes and Great Egrets. In the early summer, the baby birds hatch and in the late summer, the baby alligators hatch. Fall brings out more wildflowers and the early birds begin to arrive before the next winter.

Day trips and overnight wilderness trips are available year-round, although low water levels may require that certain trails be closed. The Suwannee Canal, the result of a failed effort to drain the swamp, runs roughly east to west across the middle of the swamp. Most of the overnight trips spend a portion of their time on the Canal. There are seven overnight shelters or campsites in the refuge, so only seven wilderness trips will be out at any given time. Designated shelters and campsites with privies are available for use during both day trips and wilderness trips. Leave no trace ethics are required to minimize the impact on the swamp ecosystems. Grey water including dishwater goes into the privy not into the swamp. The swamp water cannot be filtered well enough, so water must be packed in for drinking and dishwashing.

Permits can be difficult to obtain, especially in March and April. Trips during those months are limited to 2 nights in the swamp. At other times of the year, trips can be as long as 4 nights. Day trips are permitted from any of the access points, but those trips are limited to certain trails. Motorized craft are permitted on most of the day tripping trails, so congestion could be an issue at times. For those truly looking for someone else to do the work, guided tours are available from Stephen C. Foster State Park and the Suwannee Canal Recreation Area.

For wilderness trip reservations, call (912)496-3331 between 7 and 10am ET on a non-holiday weekday up to two months before the planned departure. Especially during the spring, flexibility in launch date and persistence will improve the odds of obtaining a launch date. A special campsite is set aside for youth groups. For non-youth groups, wilderness permits are available for groups of up to 20 people, but given the size of the shelters, a group of 10 would be less cramped. Unguided daytrips do not require reservations, but parking fees are charged at many of the access points and groups are expected to sign out and sign in at the park office at these access points. The Okefenokee NWR has a no pets policy because pets look and smell a lot like food to an alligator.

From Nashville, travel time varies from 8-12 hours depending on what traffic allows. Much of the drive follows I-75 (aka, the Walt Disney Highway) so competing events such as spring and summer break may interfere with the drive. If you plan to take more than one day to make the drive, reserving a motel room or space at a private campground may be prudent. Georgia state parks close really early, as in gates locked at 7:30pm early.

Our trip to the Okefenokee will be detailed in Part 2, tentatively titled How a City Slicker Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Swamp, in next month’s Watershed.

Additional References
Website: http://www.fws.gov/okefenokee/
Guidebook: Paddling Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge by David O’Neill and Elizabeth A. Domingue

West Fork of the Obey (4/3/05)

Some of the same storms that gave us so much excitement in the Okefenokee meant the Plateau was cranking when we got back to Nashville. Lucas headed west for the Buffalo River in Arkansas, but I stayed in town to get caught back up with work. A pleasant consequence of that meant I got to paddle the West Fork again. The last time I paddled it was in December 2002. It was my last real whitewater paddle before my hiatus for school. I remembered two rapids from it. One had a big boulder in the middle. I remember screaming and then avoiding the big boulder. The other had an even bigger boulder in the middle and I remember catching the eddy behind it and then sneaking the rest of the rapid on far left. This time the water was much higher and it promised to be a different run.

The weather didn't look so promising for Saturday, so when Woody called to say they would run it on Sunday when the weather was promising to be much warmer, my decision was made. When Woody said the official TSRA trip would involve a group of boy scouts as well as the TSRA paddlers, my decision was reinforced. Diann said the run would be one big wave train.

On Sunday, Diann, Woody, Bob, Jean, Morris and I met at the Cookeville Cracker Barrel for breakfast and then we headed to the put-in. Diann had said the run would be one big wave train. She was almost right. It was one big drunken wave train, with cross currents making it a bit more turbulent and unpredictable than the bouncy wave trains on rivers like the Nantahala.

Since Lucas was away, I got to pack all of my usual gear into just my kayak. The result was a bit heavier boat than I'm used to paddling. It tracked really well. I was able to surf across one of the waves just below the put-in bridge with very little effort.

The first few rapids were fun bouncy waves. Unfortunately, maybe three rapids in, I had a little bit of a scare not too far from the put in. The waves made for a really strange but tenacious eddy line. I tried several times to catch either of the eddies, but couldn't get off the river left eddy line. The remains of what looked like a footbridge were dangling in the river. It was sort of like barbed wire and I was washing toward it out of control. One end was attached high on the river left cliff. The other end was clinging to the remains of a couple of dead trees on river right. Most was hanging at or very close to the main channel. Sneaks were available on river left and river right. I barely made the river left sneak and finally broke free of the eddy line to catch an eddy below me. I was definitely unnerved.

Not too long after that incident, we came to the first rapid that I remembered from the 2002 trip. I got out with Diann and Woody to scout. It looked nothing like the rapid I remembered. The water was much higher and the big boulder in the middle was gone. I didn't like the looks of the river left holes. They looked big, with sharp, pointy teeth and bad breath. Probably I could have made the moves to avoid them, but the lingering out of control feeling from the near barbed wire encounter was still with me. I decided to walk the first half and get back in where I knew I wouldn't have any difficulties. Diann and Woody chose to bounce through some rocks on river right to avoid the big stuff. Diann met up with me in the eddy and said it was plenty easy and I should have tried their route. Nerves are nerves, though. I gradually worked them out of my system as the run progressed.

The rest of the intimidating rapid was big bouncy fun. More fun bouncy stuff followed. Occasional waterfalls enhanced the already lush scenery, with flows ranging from a trickle to an overwhelming gush. One of the waterfalls came raging in from river right in one of the more fun bouncy rapids. The waterfall extended about a quarter of the way into the channel. The awe distracted me from my line, but I made a quick recovery to get where I needed to be.

Soon we arrived at the second of the rapids I remembered. Big Mama. With the high water, she was a much different woman from what I remembered her to be. The big boulders were the same, except this time the undercuts were filled with wood. The far left line that some remembered looked like a terrible idea. Sneaking between a barely submerged rock within probably inches of an undercut? Somebody else can try that move. I decided to tangle with Big Mama head on.

We scouted from the eddies behind the two big boulders on river right. The main channel was running between those boulders and the big boulder in the middle of the channel. Bob and Jean and Morris caught the eddy behind that big boulder and were waiting for us to get there. Diann went first, attempting to ferry directly across the channel. The river said no and she ended up running the rocky boogie water to the bottom of the rapid. She eddied out at the bottom looking like she meant to go that way. Woody followed her, leaving me in the eddy to either make the ferry or tangle with the last part of the rapid.

I decided to try for the ferry, but start out much higher so I'd have more time to work left and choose my entrance to the eddy. I ferried into a peelout and worked left pretty easily. The entrance of the eddy looked painfully rocky so I had to catch the eddy pretty low. It felt a bit like an accelerator as I began the eddy turn. Like I had practiced in the Winter Clinic, I fixed my eyes on Morris in the eddy and leaned hard as I crossed the eddy line. And screamed. And turned. And there I was. In the eddy. Upright. Knees knocking. It worked. I didn't really wait for the adrenaline to die down. I finished the rapid by taking the sneak route on river left. I caught an eddy at the bottom and ferried over to meet up with Diann and Woody at the lunch rock. The rest of the group finished running/playing the rapid and joined us.

After lunch, we ferried back to river left and took a short hike to see some waterfalls. One was dry. The rock outcropping was still pretty cool. It reminded me of the Natural Bridge at the fat farm where we put in Fortyeight Creek, except without the bridge part. The other waterfall was a cascade down a rock face. The moss growing in the rock crevices spread the water out as it fell, making it look like the water was rinsing shampoo away. Along the hike to and from the waterfalls, we admired the white and purple trillium that was just beginning to bloom.

The remaining paddle out was nowhere near the difficulty of Big Mama. The river gets tamed as it flows toward the lake. There were plenty more wave train rapids to enjoy and several more cascading waterfalls. We saw a hawk circling above, or at least a very pretty buzzard. Bob found a tree frog hanging out on a tree near the river.

Soon the takeout bridge was in sight. As we got out of our boats and prepared to carry everything to our vehicles above, we checked the water level. The bridge gauge read just a hair over 4' when we took out. Future reference, 4' is a really fun level to run the West Fork.

Morris had run our shuttle in the morning, so we brought him and his gear back to the top, enjoying the last of the gorgeously sunny weather before saying our goodbyes and heading for home.

Okefenokee Pictures

If five posts about the trip aren't enough, here's the link to all of the digital photos from the Okefenokee trip.

Okefenokee Swamp Part 5: Back to Civilization

Our night at Round Top was pretty mellow. After dinner, it didn't take long for us to find our pillows. The wind slowly died down to a mere 10 to 15 MPH while we slept. Sunrise quickly led to bright blue skies overhead. We ate breakfast and packed up camp without fear of chasing stray items into the swamp.

We began our paddle with the remaining three miles on the purple trail, the last miles of open prairie before Suwannee Canal led to our takeout. The warmth of the sun tempted many animals out of hiding. The slight wind worked in our favor, allowing us to sneak up on many of them before they saw us and ran, swam or flew away.

Not far from our shelter, a turtle had propped himself up on a peat quagmire for a better position to sun himself. He heard us because of the whirr of my camera. I managed a second photo before he un-propped himself and heaved himself into the murky water to hide. We saw some Egrets and a very large alligator sunning himself in the distance. The Egrets weren't fond of our presence and flew away several times, but never really invested in enough distance to hide themselves properly. The alligator couldn't care less. He was too busy enjoying the sun.

Soon we came upon another alligator sleeping and sunning on a peat quagmire. Eventually, he woke up and made a halfhearted attempt to hide from us. He slid into the water from his head up to his torso, leaving the back half still exposed on the peat. Sort of an alligator imitating an ostrich.

Soon we reached the Suwannee Canal junction and picked up the orange trail on the canal to head for home. We had 8 miles of slowly meandering, tree-enclosed canal ahead of us. Without the wind blowing, the day quickly began to feel like summer. Wildlife sightings weren't as frequent as in the prairie, but we were treated to a few turtles, lizards, birds and swimming alligators as we paddled.

We decided to break for lunch after the second swimming alligator. This one seemed pretty domesticated as far as alligators go. As he swam on canal right, he watched us pass on canal left. We rafted up for lunch after he was about a hundred yards behind us. He kept swimming toward us, slowly ambling through the water. When he got closer, he swam to the opposite side of the canal and watched. We decided to move on and finish our meal at the nearby day use shelter. This time, he didn't follow. I guess he figured out that he wasn't getting any handouts from us.

At the shelter, we finished our lunch with a chorus of alligators around us. Spring is their mating season, so we weren't sure if they were arguing over territory, attempting to claim mates or just swapping recipes. Of course none, not even our swimming friend, were nearby.

We saw more boaters as we got closer to the boat ramp at Suwannee Canal. The first group was canoe party on an overnight permit, heading toward the shelter we left that morning. Other groups passed in john boats and the bigger guided tour boats. Eventually, these boats had to turn around. The polite boaters dropped their motors to idle speed as they passed us. The less polite boaters drove right past trailing decent-sized wakes. Of course, the whitewater boaters in us took over and we tried to surf the wakes. The trick was to catch the wake long enough to enjoy it but get off it before getting washed into the trees. One of the tour groups thought we were trying to grab on to their boat for a ride. The operator knew better and gunned the engine just for us.

Despite all the commotion, we saw a couple more alligators and birds in the last few miles, including a pair of goldfinches that looked like they were playing tag.

Compared to the prairie, the canal was a tad on the boring side. Still, the end came too quickly. The trail split for incoming and outgoing traffic to not trip over each other. The number of signs increased. Then, the boat ramp was in sight.

Weekday traffic meant the ramp wasn't in high demand. Most of the park visitors were doing the tourist thing with the rented boats or the guided tours. We were able to unload our boats without being in anyone's way. We moved everything off to the side and began working on the final puzzle. How were we going to fit a flatwater canoe, two sea kayaks and four people's gear on top and in the back of Lucas's pickup truck? The ropework was quite artistic, but the back of the truck wasn't as stuffed to the gills as we feared.

We headed to the put-in to retrieve Gene and Sheila's truck and to make a final sort of the gear. We finished sorting and loading just after dark and said our goodbyes to each other and to the swamp. Alligators croaked in the distance.

The trail leading to the Round Top shelter

Gene demonstrates the wind rescue

Set up camp or enjoy the approaching sunset?

surveying Chase Prairie

Binoculars rock -- the Great Egret isn't so distant

Canal crossing

Okefenokee Swamp Part 4: Forging Ahead

So they really weren't kidding about those 25MPH winds. After breakfast, we struck camp carefully and loaded the boats. Our launch was protected by some small shrubs, so we didn't feel the true effects of the wind until we turned the first corner. Immediately, we knew it was going to be a challenging day. It was hard, but we did move forward. Some combination of optical and perhaps mental illusions made it look a little bit like we had to paddle uphill.

The bright side of the high winds blowing directly at us was the effect it didn't have on the critters. They couldn't smell us or hear us coming, so we startled all sorts of wildlife once we got really close to them. We could get within 15 or 20 feet before they would notice us, sometimes closer. Our first startle involved two alligators hanging out near the trail and a pair of Sandhill Cranes about twenty yards back from the other side of the trail. Just after the alligators threw themselves into the water, the cranes wings seemed almost to roar as they flew away overhead.

I was comforted to notice that not all creatures of nature are graceful. Ever hear somebody do a bellyflop into a swimming pool instead of a dive? That's sort of the sound an alligator makes when it heaves itself toward the water but lands on a peat growth instead.

Maybe a mile into our trek, we got our first break from the wind in the form of a small cypress and pine forest. The trail quickly narrowed to no more than three canoe widths as it meandered through the trees. It was hard work negotiating the turns, especially with the growths of peat that we had to push through. It took two of us to steer the canoe through many of the turns. The tall trees formed a canopy overhead with sunlight filtering through. I'm not sure how many miles wound through the trees. Creeking, Okefenokee style had my full attention, but the magic and intimacy of it made it feel less like work.

Sheila and Gene had some trouble with the turns in their sea kayaks. Sometimes K-turns were required because a normal turn would have been too wide. The trail was too narrow for a double bladed paddle. Sheila took apart her paddle and paddled sea C-1 for a while. Gene took the stubborn approach of whacking trees and poling through the peat.

We came out of the first mini forest and tangled with the winds for a while, enjoying the benefits of startling the wildlife. We saw more Great Egrets and some White Ibises. The difference between the two is the Ibises have curvy beaks and black-tipped wings. Ibises seemed a little smaller, too, but as vast as the prairie was, distance and size were difficult scales.

The next mini forest break from the wind was our chance to break for lunch, too. The canoe made a good table as we rafted up to get out our meals. Occasional wisps of wind would find their way into our forest, reminding us that our break was only that. We had more open passages of the prairie waiting for us.

After lunch, the mini forest breaks became fewer. The paddles into the wind continued to be arduous, but occasional rewards of distinctive wildlife or plant sightings helped us enjoy at least parts of our epic paddle.

After one particularly arduous paddle into the wind, we came across a baby alligator. Babies hatch in August, so this one was off season. He was really cute. Gene and Sheila came across him first. He hissed at them, which had to have been really cute. Sort of like a puppy discovering its adult dog bark. I got a couple of pictures of him before he dove into the water to escape.

What's worse than a 25MPH headwind? Try a 25MPH crosswind.

We enjoyed a brief respite from the headwind when we turned left onto the blue trail. We had about a mile on this trail before turning onto the purple trail. The lack of wind was so delightful that we had to comment. Somebody must have heard something because a nice gust of wind prompty blew us off the trail. We did a 360 degree examination of a small shrub as we turned to get back on the trail and dislodge ourselves from said shrub. After about a mile, we turned onto the purple trail that would lead to our home for the night. It wasn't enough of a turn to make a tail wind, so we had to continue our battle with the crosswind. Not too far into the purple trail, another well-aimed gust of wind blew us a good 30 yards off the trail. Battle indeed.

The laws of physics were conspiring against us. When they weren't blowing us off the trail in one direction, the wind gusts would push us off course in the other direction, into the wind. I couldn't correct with bow strokes without killing the forward momentum. The bent shaft paddles made it difficult for Lucas to correct in the stern. We zigged and zagged down the trail like we'd had a few too many. When he switched to the whitewater paddle, the fight continued but he started winning the battle. We made it to the shelter without any more off-trail excursions.

The wind was blowing in a cold front from the west, which we could see as the sunset approached. Thicker clouds were making their way toward us from the horizon. The clouds were not thick enough to block the view of the sunset. We enjoyed all of the golds, pinks, purples and reds before the sun ducked below the trees in the distance.

Gene summed up the trip for the video camera: We came; we paddled; we conquered. Then the video camera's battery died. Apparently, it was tired, too.

We start the day with some wind

Creeking, swamp style

The wind blows some more

Posed in recovery?

Okefenokee Swamp Part 3: Into the Wilderness

We began the day with a long drive to the other side of the swamp. Our putin at Kingfisher was at the farthest point from our campground, so it took well over an hour to get there. We feared the 10am launch requirement even though we had plenty of time to make the less than 8 mile trek to the Bluff Lake shelter. Kingfisher was unstaffed -- it was a parking lot and a boat ramp at the end of about a mile of dirt road. Gene and I ran the shuttle to Suwannee Canal while Lucas and Sheila solved the puzzle of what gear goes where. Sunshine accompanied us on the drive, but overcast skies soon took over. We launched around 11am local time, with rain clouds in the not-so-distant view.

Our itinerary had us on the green trail all day. The first mile was shared with the red trail in the Kings Canal, which the guidebook says was dug as part of peat mining in the 50s. What is peat mining? That was our question, too, so I don't have a good answer. We turned left from the canal and headed pretty much due south along the green trail. The view changed quickly from wooded canal to prairie. The overcast sky and nearby storm clouds gave the path an eerie calm as we paddled. Occasional sprinkles of rain reminded us that, while the weather forecast had improved, it wasn't exactly in our favor. We were treated to a few brave and hearty alligators along our route. We even saw a Sandhill Crane. The trail was banked by swamp candles (aka. goldclubs), pitcher plants, yellow-eyed grass and wildflowers that rooted in a five point pattern at the water surface. We got some mileage out of the field guide, but not enough to identify every plant or critter.

We took a break for lunch near the day's halfway mark. The canoe became the table between the two sea kayaks. Gene adopted a pet frog during the meal. The rain grew more serious. We hoped that by putting on the rain gear, it would change its mind, but it didn't. On and off it rained as we paddled, with the rain growing heavier each time. We reached Bluff Lake in a downpour and paddled quickly across it to find our shelter.

The shelters aren't the most protective structures for a storm, being a platform of wood with a partial roof. It was enough to get out of the rain. We set up the tents under the roof and tied up two tarps to help block the wind before we began cooking. Before dinner, Lucas got out the cards to play some Euchre.

Sheila cooked dinner for us, a delicious vegetable and tofu stir fry. We listed to the forecast on the weather radio. They called for 25-35mph winds to blow out the current storm. We enjoyed a little more citronella campfire before retiring to the tents.

During the night, the wind changed directions, making our wind-blocking tarps want to act like sails. The next morning, over a breakfast of fruit porridge, the weather radio told us our 25-35mph winds would be blowing due east. Lucky us, our path for over 7 of our 11 miles would be due west.

Lucas is ready for the swamp

First view of the prairie

Even my silly rain hat wouldn't chase the clouds away

Card sharking at the shelter

Okefenokee Swamp Part 2: Alligator Alley

Camping makes me a slave to the daylight. Even though we crawled into our tents sometime around 3am local time, all of us were awake by 7am. When denial wore off, we crawled out of our tents, lit the citronella candles, bathed in bug dope and began making breakfast. We enjoyed buckwheat pancakes with strawberry syrup (frozen strawberries + sugar = yum) around our citronella campfire and then left for the nearby putin at Stephen Foster State Park.

Our plan for the day was to paddle upstream on the Suwannee River for a while and then hang a left to follow a winding trail to a day use shelter at Minnies Lake. The waters were deep, so the alligators should have been plentiful. The sun was hiding behind the rain clouds and the day wasn't particularly warm, so the alligators had better places to be. Still, our day trip was our most alligator-rich day, with my tally at 15. On a warm, sunny day, the alligator count can be closer to 100, depending on how much paddling you do.

Our first alligator sighting was right at the launch. We saw a medium-sized gator chillin' by the rental canoes. It seemed a busy place for a nap, but then again, I'm not an alligator. We paddled past him, followed the canal out to the Suwannee River and hung a right to head upstream.

The Suwannee had some current to it as we paddled upstream. When we turned left onto the much more narrow red trail, the current was still running against us noticeably. There were a bunch of other boaters out there, including other canoers, kayakers and some people in small motor powered john boats. Along the trek to Minnies Lake, we chatted with a few of them, including one couple in a beautiful wooden canoe. We saw a couple of alligators and a cute goldfinch fluttering around in one of the nearby trees. When the guy first said goldfinch, I thought he said goldfish and looked around in the water. I remember thinking, I know goldfish can live anywhere but sheeesh... Then he said goldfinch again, pointed toward the tree and all became clear. Cute bird. It's smaller and squatter than a parakeet, with bright yellow and black markings. I may have gotten a picture of it, but no promises.

It's funny how perceptions change over time. At first, both of us said how they seemed really nice. Later on, when we were driving home on Wednesday, both of us remarked that he sure liked to talk about himself. They turned back about halfway to the shelter, so when we got there, we had it to ourselves. Another group joined us. They mentioned that they had an overnight permit for Friday, but opted to not launch because of the weather. We didn't really want to hear that. Weather was one of those anxieties that we had tucked way back in our minds. When we left town on Friday, the forecast for the area on weather.com didn't look so good for our launch either. We were hoping for a revision before Sunday morning.

On the trek back, the current was working with us so the miles took hardly any time at all. The weather wasn't looking great, but we decided to paddle upstream on the Suwannee some more to check out Billy's Island. There used to be a decent sized settlement there, so some of their stuff is still lying around the island. There's a short trail that you can walk where some things like pieces of farm equipment are still there. Near the end of that hike, we crossed paths with an elderly raccoon. He had that washed up, formerly hard-living musician swagger, if you can imagine a raccoon channeling that sort of persona. His back was arched. His walk was slow and deliberate. Occasionally, he turned to look at us, but without any air of curiosity. We gave him his space and eventually he left the trail.

Finally, the sun had poked through the clouds and warmed the afternoon. Alligator sightings increased. My alligator tally pretty much doubled in the short paddle back to the boat ramp. There were a few more alligators hanging out on the grass near the canal, despite the racket of boaters and campers. Our lazy friend from the morning had moved a whole 10 yards to a new patch of grass.