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.