Penelope
04-30-2011, 10:05 PM
43838
On Earth Day last weekend, two friends and I took a couple hour drive from our homes in Northeast Florida out West to White Springs and the legendary Suwannee River. We were fired up to kayak a manageable 37 mile chunk of this nearly 250 mile river that springs from Georgia's Okefenokee Swamp and meanders it's way to the Gulf of Mexico.
43842
Even after consulting various websites, park rangers and a thick Southern-drawled canoe outfitter we still didn't have a clear idea what to expect. And though none of us had attempted a kayak trip that long before, our main concern seemed to be how we'd keep the beer and vodka cold for three days. With some reassurance that this paddle would be "cake" from a friend who'd spent a month on this same river, we said screw it; let's do this.
43843
Michelle, myself and Jenny. You can almost make out the homemade scrap wood kayak roof rack on my suv - totally red-neck!
I still giggle when I remember Michelle's kayak rental guy letting her know the kayaks were located "right-cheer." So we loaded up in the outfitters jeep and bounced down a back country road to the launch. A hot, sandy beach awaited us - no seriously, my feet were burning - and we set to doing some reverse Jenga to get all our gear stowed. As you can see in the photo below, Jenny and Michelle's yaks are loaded with fancy dry bags while I rock the Hefty tall kitchen trash bags.
Before I could claim myself biggest red-neck, a family of barefooted Southern boys appeared, Deliverance style, with a litter of pitbull puppies needing a river bath. When daddy red-neck shot-putted daddy pitbull into the water (his tow-headed young boys starring at us uncomfortably) we took that as our cue to take off.
43844
Our sandy beach canoe launch site. The water here is about 40' deep. (photo by Jenny)
We had a short 5 mile paddle to Wood's Ferry, our campsite (mile 159.3 on map). Along the way, springs supplied great photo ops with babbling brooks pouring into the river like this one below. Note the yellow rope hanging from the trees in the upper right corner. We saw lots of these along the river and I was so tempted to swing off theem and splash into the river!
43845
(photo by Jenny)
All along the river there are plenty of sandy beaches, like this one below, where you can pitch a tent and camp overnight for free. Simply gather some fallen tree branches and wood and build your fire in the soft sand. Jenny spotted some gator tracks in the sand during one of our potty breaks. My neck isn't red enough to camp out with the gators.
43846
(photo by Jenny)
Our first campsite, Woods Ferry, is only accessible by water, but had an elaborate wooden ramp and steps leading from the shore to the campgrounds high above. These campsites are completely free and are available first come first serve, though you can reserve them in advance. It was nice to get a hot shower and to pee in a toilette, as well as make some lame attempts to attract the attention of all the boy campers.
43828
This is Southern living. Paddlers leave their kayaks on the shore overnight without threat of theft. (photo by Jenny)
43840
"I has a bucket!"
43841
"Noooo! They be stealin' muh bucket!"
Yes, my sophisticated food storage is an old ice cream bucket. (photos by Jenny)
After a restless night filled with our hippie neighbors singing in Hebrew and slamming cabin doors during a hissy fit, we set off for an 18.5 mile paddle to our next campsite. The river flows around 2 miles an hour, so we'd heard. We were all pretty strong type women so we knew we could move at a much faster clip, and with all our potty breaks and lookie-lu moments, we were paddling at a pace of around 2 miles an hour. Fantastic.
But we were still fired up! Not long into our day I was paddling close to the shoreline, very near a tree that'd fallen into the river. It's many branches motionless in the water. Suddenly one of those branches blinked. OH CRAP! I was about five feet from a huge gator. Of course I remained calm and composed as I screamed like a little sissy. The other girls, who I think secretly had mounted trolling motors to their yaks, were hopelessly far ahead of me. I had no idea what to do. Do I put paddle to water and risk the gator chomping on it, taking me down with it to a horrific, bloody, watery death? Or do I continue to scream and freeze, paddle raised defensively overhead? Of course I froze. So did my blood when the gator slipped it's giant head under water leaving a trail of bubbles directly towards and under my kayak. From eyeball to nostril the head of this bugger was the size of my paddle head. About 12 or 14 inches. That would make him 7 or 8 feet long. I'm just under six foot. Wonder which end of me would stick out his mouth and which would be jammed down by his tail? Well, nothing happened, he stayed below water and left me be. A short time later I came across this juvenile gator (below) who seemed nonplussed by our presence. I decided to stay a safe distance and take this photo.
43831
43833
It seems gators might have been less of a threat.
We made our 18.5 miles to Holten Creek and since we didn't get eaten by gators or b*tch-slapped by sturgeon, we set up camp for another night. In the photo below you'll notice the rusty red tint in the water, best seen close to shore in the shallows. This tinge is caused by the leaching of tannins from cyprus trees that emerge from the river. Though it's unnerving not to see the river bottom, it does add great aesthetic value.
43832
Our gorgeous landing at Holten Creek campsite.
43834
Our screened porch camp platform. Jenny called them death cages.
We were entertained this second night by our campground neighbors, including this good ole boy from Alabama, who seemed to have some trouble chopping wood. Maybe you should put on some shoes, Opie. Or at least try doing this before getting drunk.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkCR0lsDJB8
Camping tip. If you don't have room in your kayak for a sleeping pad, whether it's because you have too much booze or not, sleep on your life vest and the life vest of your friend who thought to bring a sleeping pad. Those platform cabin floors are NOT comfy.
Day three came and we grappled with the option of paddling 5 miles or over 13 miles, our only two options for the kayak guy to pick us up. Or, as he stabbed a finger on the map two days earlier, "right-cheer or right-cheer". Screw it. Let's do this. We set out for 13.4 miles of paddling to Suwannee River State Park. This day we saw more wildlife out of the water. Deer. Birds. Toothless locals. Hairy hippies. But the scenery was stunning.
43835
Deer along the shorline.
43836
Ahead of schedule, we arrived at Suwannee River state park. It was a little over-developed and crowded compared to the rest of our trip and we were glad to get on the road after an amazing and hilarious adventure way down upon the Suwannee River.
43837
Me at the end of our journey. Awesome trip! (photo by Jenny)
43839
Map indicating the various campsites and canoe launches along our 37 mile stretch.
All photos by Ann Marie (aka Penelope) unless otherwise noted.
On Earth Day last weekend, two friends and I took a couple hour drive from our homes in Northeast Florida out West to White Springs and the legendary Suwannee River. We were fired up to kayak a manageable 37 mile chunk of this nearly 250 mile river that springs from Georgia's Okefenokee Swamp and meanders it's way to the Gulf of Mexico.
43842
Even after consulting various websites, park rangers and a thick Southern-drawled canoe outfitter we still didn't have a clear idea what to expect. And though none of us had attempted a kayak trip that long before, our main concern seemed to be how we'd keep the beer and vodka cold for three days. With some reassurance that this paddle would be "cake" from a friend who'd spent a month on this same river, we said screw it; let's do this.
43843
Michelle, myself and Jenny. You can almost make out the homemade scrap wood kayak roof rack on my suv - totally red-neck!
I still giggle when I remember Michelle's kayak rental guy letting her know the kayaks were located "right-cheer." So we loaded up in the outfitters jeep and bounced down a back country road to the launch. A hot, sandy beach awaited us - no seriously, my feet were burning - and we set to doing some reverse Jenga to get all our gear stowed. As you can see in the photo below, Jenny and Michelle's yaks are loaded with fancy dry bags while I rock the Hefty tall kitchen trash bags.
Before I could claim myself biggest red-neck, a family of barefooted Southern boys appeared, Deliverance style, with a litter of pitbull puppies needing a river bath. When daddy red-neck shot-putted daddy pitbull into the water (his tow-headed young boys starring at us uncomfortably) we took that as our cue to take off.
43844
Our sandy beach canoe launch site. The water here is about 40' deep. (photo by Jenny)
We had a short 5 mile paddle to Wood's Ferry, our campsite (mile 159.3 on map). Along the way, springs supplied great photo ops with babbling brooks pouring into the river like this one below. Note the yellow rope hanging from the trees in the upper right corner. We saw lots of these along the river and I was so tempted to swing off theem and splash into the river!
43845
(photo by Jenny)
All along the river there are plenty of sandy beaches, like this one below, where you can pitch a tent and camp overnight for free. Simply gather some fallen tree branches and wood and build your fire in the soft sand. Jenny spotted some gator tracks in the sand during one of our potty breaks. My neck isn't red enough to camp out with the gators.
43846
(photo by Jenny)
Our first campsite, Woods Ferry, is only accessible by water, but had an elaborate wooden ramp and steps leading from the shore to the campgrounds high above. These campsites are completely free and are available first come first serve, though you can reserve them in advance. It was nice to get a hot shower and to pee in a toilette, as well as make some lame attempts to attract the attention of all the boy campers.
43828
This is Southern living. Paddlers leave their kayaks on the shore overnight without threat of theft. (photo by Jenny)
43840
"I has a bucket!"
43841
"Noooo! They be stealin' muh bucket!"
Yes, my sophisticated food storage is an old ice cream bucket. (photos by Jenny)
After a restless night filled with our hippie neighbors singing in Hebrew and slamming cabin doors during a hissy fit, we set off for an 18.5 mile paddle to our next campsite. The river flows around 2 miles an hour, so we'd heard. We were all pretty strong type women so we knew we could move at a much faster clip, and with all our potty breaks and lookie-lu moments, we were paddling at a pace of around 2 miles an hour. Fantastic.
But we were still fired up! Not long into our day I was paddling close to the shoreline, very near a tree that'd fallen into the river. It's many branches motionless in the water. Suddenly one of those branches blinked. OH CRAP! I was about five feet from a huge gator. Of course I remained calm and composed as I screamed like a little sissy. The other girls, who I think secretly had mounted trolling motors to their yaks, were hopelessly far ahead of me. I had no idea what to do. Do I put paddle to water and risk the gator chomping on it, taking me down with it to a horrific, bloody, watery death? Or do I continue to scream and freeze, paddle raised defensively overhead? Of course I froze. So did my blood when the gator slipped it's giant head under water leaving a trail of bubbles directly towards and under my kayak. From eyeball to nostril the head of this bugger was the size of my paddle head. About 12 or 14 inches. That would make him 7 or 8 feet long. I'm just under six foot. Wonder which end of me would stick out his mouth and which would be jammed down by his tail? Well, nothing happened, he stayed below water and left me be. A short time later I came across this juvenile gator (below) who seemed nonplussed by our presence. I decided to stay a safe distance and take this photo.
43831
43833
It seems gators might have been less of a threat.
We made our 18.5 miles to Holten Creek and since we didn't get eaten by gators or b*tch-slapped by sturgeon, we set up camp for another night. In the photo below you'll notice the rusty red tint in the water, best seen close to shore in the shallows. This tinge is caused by the leaching of tannins from cyprus trees that emerge from the river. Though it's unnerving not to see the river bottom, it does add great aesthetic value.
43832
Our gorgeous landing at Holten Creek campsite.
43834
Our screened porch camp platform. Jenny called them death cages.
We were entertained this second night by our campground neighbors, including this good ole boy from Alabama, who seemed to have some trouble chopping wood. Maybe you should put on some shoes, Opie. Or at least try doing this before getting drunk.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkCR0lsDJB8
Camping tip. If you don't have room in your kayak for a sleeping pad, whether it's because you have too much booze or not, sleep on your life vest and the life vest of your friend who thought to bring a sleeping pad. Those platform cabin floors are NOT comfy.
Day three came and we grappled with the option of paddling 5 miles or over 13 miles, our only two options for the kayak guy to pick us up. Or, as he stabbed a finger on the map two days earlier, "right-cheer or right-cheer". Screw it. Let's do this. We set out for 13.4 miles of paddling to Suwannee River State Park. This day we saw more wildlife out of the water. Deer. Birds. Toothless locals. Hairy hippies. But the scenery was stunning.
43835
Deer along the shorline.
43836
Ahead of schedule, we arrived at Suwannee River state park. It was a little over-developed and crowded compared to the rest of our trip and we were glad to get on the road after an amazing and hilarious adventure way down upon the Suwannee River.
43837
Me at the end of our journey. Awesome trip! (photo by Jenny)
43839
Map indicating the various campsites and canoe launches along our 37 mile stretch.
All photos by Ann Marie (aka Penelope) unless otherwise noted.