Paddling In The Darkness

Mike and I met at the Gear Shed once again, just before 5:30. We threw two paddles and two pfds in the back of his Forester, then loaded a canoe on his surf racks. We arrived at a put in about two thirds of the way down the path Nelson had outlined on the website. There weren't any other cars there but we made sure they had overnight parking. We piled into the canoe with a tent, our sleeping bags and pads, food and water, and a machete. We kept running through possible scenarios of our interaction with the rest of the trip when we caught up: have me run through the woods in the dark screaming while Mike chases me with the machete, use our southern redneck accents and enact a dialogue in which I try to convince Cletus (Mike) to leave them nice kids alone this time since Bertha (me) wasn't gonna clean up the mess this time, etc... We paddled through the darkness until we came upon a decent campground area after 11 PM and decided we would try again in the morning. We also kept talking about various what-ifs, such as the canoe breaking, since no one knew where we were.

So, Mike and I settled on our campground and set up the tent. We pulled all of our gear out of the canoe and then he tied it off to a nearby tree. The mosquitos were vicious, so I ducked into the tent almost immediately. Rather than bringing my thick down sleeping bag, I opted for my fleece liner and this was an excellent choice. The next morning, Mike's alarm started going off and he just kept hitting the snooze button, over and over. Eventually, we decided to give in and wake up. We broke down the tent and everything, packing up with the intention of heading farther upstream. At this point, I was extremely sore. We had paddle some 7 or 8 miles upstream the night before. We headed upstream again, trying to hunt them down. We came upon a boat ramp about a mile or two up river and pulled over. I stayed in the boat to watch the shore while Mike checked out the campground. No luck, so we got back in the boat. We kept paddling upstream, stopping a few times and tying off to a tree on the shore, waiting for them to emerge. We, again, had no luck. So we decided to go back downstream toward the car. 

Our paddling efforts virtually died off and we let the current carry us for a lot of the way back. We spotted tons of turtles and birds, a baby alligator, a not-so-baby alligator, and Mike saw a river otter (I missed it). Mike kept standing up to paddle rather than sitting. It looked really funny, especially since he was wearing his straw hat and his long sleeved shirt. As we approached Honey Isle campground, we heard tons of voices and got hopeful. Alas, it was just a bunch of local Floridians (five or more powerboats) jumping off of the rope swings and blasting country music. Suffice to say we paddled away as quickly as possible. Several powerboats drove past us, some slowing and others choosing not to do so.

We made it back to the car and loaded everything up, unsuccessful in our endeavor. We then decided to do some off roading in the Forester with the canoe on top. It was so much fun, especially because we were on roads with giant bumps and puddles. We did that for over an hour and then headed back to Gainesville. We had gone to the take out at Cypress, where we thought Nelson was headed but there were no signs of the trailer or any cars. We assumed they had beat us out but when we returned to the gear shed, the canoes still weren't back. It was strange indeed.

Events occurred: September 7-8, 2013