G
Guest
Guest
Part 1 – Getting there is (more than) half the fun.
Saturday 1/25
I (barely) managed to get the truck up the driveway between snowstorms, departing for Florida a few days earlier than originally planned. The arctic vortex was still bearing down and, with several stops planned along the I-95 corridor, I was carrying gear for all weather, including a zero degree sleeping bag, a 30 degree bag and a 35/50 flip bag.
First stop, an overnight snooze at Colleton State Park in South Carolina
http://www.southcarolinaparks.com/colleton/introduction.aspx
Colleton SP has several lures. On the banks of the Edisto River, it is less than a 10 hour drive from the Mason/Dixon line, only 4 miles off I-95 and always has sites available in winter (it was admittedly 27F there on Saturday night). Plus, in view directly across the river is Carolina Heritage Outfitters.
http://www.canoesc.com/_index.php
The proprietor (Scott Kennedy) is a good fellow and I chatted with him about shuttle rates, paddling places and boats (including the forlorn Clipper Montreal moldering in the yard)
http://www.clippercanoes.com/montreal.php
Sunday 1/26
I was still running a few days ahead of schedule and made the short 3-hour hop to Crooked River State Park on the Georgia/Florida border. This was an investigative stop; I’d never been to Crooked River and wanted to check out the possibilities of paddling from there over to Cumberland Island National Seashore.
Crooked River is RV oriented with huge pads and water/electric at every site, but some of the sites are well-screened and private and, like Colleton, it is only 7 miles off I-95.
http://gastateparks.org/CrookedRiver
The park had been full the previous few days, with the annual confab of the Georgia Indian Princesses Father Daughter group and I met a few late leaving frazzled fathers.
The investigation fruitful - one of the Rangers was a paddler, as was one of the frazzled fathers. Paddlers can depart for Cumberland Island from the Crooked River launch ($5 a night to leave a vehicle) and paddle 7 miles out Crooked River and marsh estuary to Cumberland Island.
http://www.nps.gov/cuis/loader.cfm?csModule=security/getfile&pageid=516927
With the right tidal timing paddling the Crooked River and Brickhill River to the bluff campsite on the west of Cumberland could be a good ride. It’s on the To Do list.
As is additional outfitting to the Tacoma sleeper cap. I love sleeping in the back of the truck, high, dry and fully screened with everything I need at my fingertips. But I’ve now spent two nights in State Park electric sites running batteries in my reading lantern. I’m paying for the juice, I might as well use it.
I’m going to run an extension cord up the paddle box in the truck box with a triple receptacle mounted at the head of the bed. Small 110v light, small 110v fan, charge one of the devices.
“One of the devices”. Those are words I thought I’d never say. The old Nikon gave way to a digital several years ago. I eventually broke down and accepted a cell phone in my life, although I keep it turned off, and only recently learned how to answer it.
And this trip, oh gawd, the devil’s own device – a tablet. Technophobic as I am the ability to check tide tables and Weather Underground forecasts for where I’m heading has become invaluable for travel planning.
The “device” is the simplest Google Chromebook and even an old dog like me can operate it. The set up procedure took literally seconds, and it mirrors my Gmail and bookmarks from home. And I can rearrange the bookmarks for travel.
Yeah, I’ve got vices, and now devices. Bring on the 110v outlets in the truck.
Monday 1/27
Another 3 hour short hop south to Micanopy, hoping to surprise friends of 30 years Anita and Dave at their fascinating abode. Barns, outbuildings, ponds, patios, art work, oddities and always dogs. I could use me some dog time and Dave & Anita’s canines are always the best. And, in keeping with the theme of Inter-state proximity, less than 5 miles off I-75.
It has been a decade since I’ve seen them in Micanopy and much has changed. Including, as I eventually discovered, their street address, the appearance of the front 40 along the road, their mailbox and the gates along their long dirt drive.
I drove the same one mile stretch of rural road a half dozen times, back and forth to no avail. I even resorted to the dread cell phone. I give up. Time to head south on I-75.
Crikey, I’m still at least two days ahead of schedule. I have no site reservations anywhere in southern Florida and things fill up snowbird fast in the winter, especially in never ending arctic vortex conditions. A Wi-Fi and cell phone search of various campsites between Gainesville and Naples at the next rest area turned up not a single site available anywhere in the greater Florida dangle.
I know one of the Seminole Indian casinos allows overnight parking and I’m desperation ready to Google that for directions when the dread still-in-use cell phone rings. And I now know how to answer it.
Me: “Hello”
Anita: “Hi, you called this number several times….”
Oh hell yeah! Down to the next exit, turn around and back north on the Inter-State to Micanopy.
I will spare the details. Or not. I have a new favorite dog – Squeaker, daughter of Sadie, part lab, part pit bull and all loving, with a massive head that weights as much as a cinderblock and the most expressive eyes of any canine I’ve ever met.
Even better than dogs - and there’s not much better than dogs in my book - I got to spend time with another friend of 30 years, their son Paul, whom I’ve known since he was a fit-in-a-teacup-preemie.
I got to meet Paul, after a long absence, for the first time as a man. Grown into a good man, sharp as a tack, easygoing and comfortable in his own skin, with a good life, good future, and good friends, living in a cool-arse lakeside house full of turtles, odd art, flaming hula hoops, canoes, kayaks, young field biologists roommates and Luna the dog.
I’m pretty sure he gets it from his parents.
There followed three days and nights of classic roadhouse bars, juke boxes, pizza joints, breakfast diners and the occasional late nights here or there. Three days later, back on schedule, with a supply of old friend and dog companionship it was time to boogie another five hours south to Everglades City.
Thursday 1/30
Collier Seminole State Park
I had promised Joel I would bring him better weather, but I was still a day early for that. Collier Seminole was a puddle. Thankfully, as the rain had driven a few campers away and I was able to secure a site directly across from Joel.
The sites at Collier-Seminole are stare-at-your-neighbor close (and Kim can tell you about trees and rudders) and the water tastes of dirty diaper, but you WILL meet a variety of trippers there. The conversation with fellow paddlers alone is worth the cost of admission.
A short rainy dayhike to an observation tower in the marsh and I knew I was far enough south – in a single field of view were egrets galore, ibis, wood stork, pink flamingos, purple gallinule, chokoloskee chicken and etc, etc.
I turned in early at Collier Seminole, retreating to the dry, uber comfy and well appointed truck bed. So comfy that I slept for half a day, resting up for what may come tomorrow, and for the next week in the Everglades.
Saturday 1/25
I (barely) managed to get the truck up the driveway between snowstorms, departing for Florida a few days earlier than originally planned. The arctic vortex was still bearing down and, with several stops planned along the I-95 corridor, I was carrying gear for all weather, including a zero degree sleeping bag, a 30 degree bag and a 35/50 flip bag.
First stop, an overnight snooze at Colleton State Park in South Carolina
http://www.southcarolinaparks.com/colleton/introduction.aspx
Colleton SP has several lures. On the banks of the Edisto River, it is less than a 10 hour drive from the Mason/Dixon line, only 4 miles off I-95 and always has sites available in winter (it was admittedly 27F there on Saturday night). Plus, in view directly across the river is Carolina Heritage Outfitters.
http://www.canoesc.com/_index.php
The proprietor (Scott Kennedy) is a good fellow and I chatted with him about shuttle rates, paddling places and boats (including the forlorn Clipper Montreal moldering in the yard)
http://www.clippercanoes.com/montreal.php
Sunday 1/26
I was still running a few days ahead of schedule and made the short 3-hour hop to Crooked River State Park on the Georgia/Florida border. This was an investigative stop; I’d never been to Crooked River and wanted to check out the possibilities of paddling from there over to Cumberland Island National Seashore.
Crooked River is RV oriented with huge pads and water/electric at every site, but some of the sites are well-screened and private and, like Colleton, it is only 7 miles off I-95.
http://gastateparks.org/CrookedRiver
The park had been full the previous few days, with the annual confab of the Georgia Indian Princesses Father Daughter group and I met a few late leaving frazzled fathers.
The investigation fruitful - one of the Rangers was a paddler, as was one of the frazzled fathers. Paddlers can depart for Cumberland Island from the Crooked River launch ($5 a night to leave a vehicle) and paddle 7 miles out Crooked River and marsh estuary to Cumberland Island.
http://www.nps.gov/cuis/loader.cfm?csModule=security/getfile&pageid=516927
With the right tidal timing paddling the Crooked River and Brickhill River to the bluff campsite on the west of Cumberland could be a good ride. It’s on the To Do list.
As is additional outfitting to the Tacoma sleeper cap. I love sleeping in the back of the truck, high, dry and fully screened with everything I need at my fingertips. But I’ve now spent two nights in State Park electric sites running batteries in my reading lantern. I’m paying for the juice, I might as well use it.
I’m going to run an extension cord up the paddle box in the truck box with a triple receptacle mounted at the head of the bed. Small 110v light, small 110v fan, charge one of the devices.
“One of the devices”. Those are words I thought I’d never say. The old Nikon gave way to a digital several years ago. I eventually broke down and accepted a cell phone in my life, although I keep it turned off, and only recently learned how to answer it.
And this trip, oh gawd, the devil’s own device – a tablet. Technophobic as I am the ability to check tide tables and Weather Underground forecasts for where I’m heading has become invaluable for travel planning.
The “device” is the simplest Google Chromebook and even an old dog like me can operate it. The set up procedure took literally seconds, and it mirrors my Gmail and bookmarks from home. And I can rearrange the bookmarks for travel.
Yeah, I’ve got vices, and now devices. Bring on the 110v outlets in the truck.
Monday 1/27
Another 3 hour short hop south to Micanopy, hoping to surprise friends of 30 years Anita and Dave at their fascinating abode. Barns, outbuildings, ponds, patios, art work, oddities and always dogs. I could use me some dog time and Dave & Anita’s canines are always the best. And, in keeping with the theme of Inter-state proximity, less than 5 miles off I-75.
It has been a decade since I’ve seen them in Micanopy and much has changed. Including, as I eventually discovered, their street address, the appearance of the front 40 along the road, their mailbox and the gates along their long dirt drive.
I drove the same one mile stretch of rural road a half dozen times, back and forth to no avail. I even resorted to the dread cell phone. I give up. Time to head south on I-75.
Crikey, I’m still at least two days ahead of schedule. I have no site reservations anywhere in southern Florida and things fill up snowbird fast in the winter, especially in never ending arctic vortex conditions. A Wi-Fi and cell phone search of various campsites between Gainesville and Naples at the next rest area turned up not a single site available anywhere in the greater Florida dangle.
I know one of the Seminole Indian casinos allows overnight parking and I’m desperation ready to Google that for directions when the dread still-in-use cell phone rings. And I now know how to answer it.
Me: “Hello”
Anita: “Hi, you called this number several times….”
Oh hell yeah! Down to the next exit, turn around and back north on the Inter-State to Micanopy.
I will spare the details. Or not. I have a new favorite dog – Squeaker, daughter of Sadie, part lab, part pit bull and all loving, with a massive head that weights as much as a cinderblock and the most expressive eyes of any canine I’ve ever met.
Even better than dogs - and there’s not much better than dogs in my book - I got to spend time with another friend of 30 years, their son Paul, whom I’ve known since he was a fit-in-a-teacup-preemie.
I got to meet Paul, after a long absence, for the first time as a man. Grown into a good man, sharp as a tack, easygoing and comfortable in his own skin, with a good life, good future, and good friends, living in a cool-arse lakeside house full of turtles, odd art, flaming hula hoops, canoes, kayaks, young field biologists roommates and Luna the dog.
I’m pretty sure he gets it from his parents.
There followed three days and nights of classic roadhouse bars, juke boxes, pizza joints, breakfast diners and the occasional late nights here or there. Three days later, back on schedule, with a supply of old friend and dog companionship it was time to boogie another five hours south to Everglades City.
Thursday 1/30
Collier Seminole State Park
I had promised Joel I would bring him better weather, but I was still a day early for that. Collier Seminole was a puddle. Thankfully, as the rain had driven a few campers away and I was able to secure a site directly across from Joel.
The sites at Collier-Seminole are stare-at-your-neighbor close (and Kim can tell you about trees and rudders) and the water tastes of dirty diaper, but you WILL meet a variety of trippers there. The conversation with fellow paddlers alone is worth the cost of admission.
A short rainy dayhike to an observation tower in the marsh and I knew I was far enough south – in a single field of view were egrets galore, ibis, wood stork, pink flamingos, purple gallinule, chokoloskee chicken and etc, etc.
I turned in early at Collier Seminole, retreating to the dry, uber comfy and well appointed truck bed. So comfy that I slept for half a day, resting up for what may come tomorrow, and for the next week in the Everglades.
