Weeki Wachee: Snakes, raccoons, and sharks, oh my!

July 20   The wild and woolly Weeki Wachee River: Snakes, raccoons, and sharks, oh my!




 The Weeki Wachee is hardly remote and at times can be confused for an urban paddle. On a week day in summer, you can expect to see hundreds of people on this river. I would never try this trip on any weekend, because there would be no room to kayak, and there would also be motor boats cruising up and down the river as well. From this description, you would think I dislike paddling this river or that there is nothing to see. Wrong. Timing is everything while paddling Florida, and today I had the entire river to myself for the first one and a half hours. Actually, the Weeki Wachee River is one of my favorite paddling destinations because it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to on this planet. Weeki Wachee is a Seminole Indian name meaning land of spring waters and winding waters. From Google maps, it looks like a thin ribbon of aqua blue cutting through a green landscape. It is a beautiful, wild looking river that exists right next to civilization, much like Shingle creek does in Kissimmee. Weeki Wachee's genesis lies just a stone's throw from US 19 at the self named theme park that boasts mermaids. The theme park, which opened in 1947, boasts mermaids that star in an underwater show for visitors that gaze through a huge observation glass from a submerged theater at the mermaids frolicking in the crystal clear waters of Weeki Wachee springs. The springs are first magnitude springs that push an estimated 112 million gallons of water a day! It is an impressive spring that has an underwater theater built around it. Reportedly, its vent lies about 185 feet deep. The force of the spring discharge can be felt easily from 6 miles away at Rogers Park, where I put in at. I paddled up and then down the river today and like always, it was a wild experience. 





 I arrived at Rogers Park at around 8 am. I paid the 5 dollar parking fee via meter and changed into my getting wet clothes. This park is located on Shoal Line Road which is accessed a few miles West of 19 off Cortez or SR 50. It is a popular park located right on the river that boasts a beach, beach volleyball, and redneck watching. The party usually starts in early afternoon at Rogers, so get there early. It has a kayak and a boat launch. When you land you will be sharing the landing with several people exiting the water, as this is the end of several trips via outfitters along this river. One note of caution: skip the restrooms if you can. The conditions were horrific! I slip off the launch at 8:27 am, and start the arduous, 6 mile paddle against the current. I rate this river as the second strongest current to paddle against, second only to the Little Manatee River, which I would never try. After 5 minutes, I stop at Hospital Hole. This is a 140 foot deep sink hole that derives its name from a legend that wounded fish wander here from the Gulf of Mexico to enjoy the healing benefits of the spring water. Years ago, when I visited this river as a young teenager, the visibilty was excellent and you could easily see about 100 feet down. It looked like a dark spot in the aqua colored river because of the depth. As I mentioned, the Gulf is close, just a couple of miles down river, and there are freshwater and saltwater fish that swim the river such as snook, jack crevalle, largemouth bass, bream, gar, and schools of mullet.

beautiful blue waters of Hospital Hole

I continue on and soon pass the nearby Christian camp where I camped along this river as a teen. It had a lot more fish and wildlife 35 years ago: thick waving eel grass, swarms of fish, lots of blue crabs. Now the bottom here is barren sand. The lower area is populated and is that way for about one and a half miles until you hit a nice forested section. Here, the river becomes well canopied and the banks are thick with trees. The river is very clear and shallow in spots with much deeper aqua green colored channels that are forged by the current. The eddies around each bend are a challenge for novice paddlers.
 I exit the forested section into a small open section with a few homes on the North bank. The South bank is wildlife preserve, and I see a new sign that reads,"water moccasin breeding area: Beware of snakes". It is placed in front of a weeded area. Water moccasins are aquatic pit vipers, armed with extremely venemous fangs. If you are bitten, you need medical attention FAST. Its venom is a hemotoxin and has the ability to kill a full grown human, although rare. Although I have seen snakes on rivers before, I couldn't be sure what kind they were as I didn't venture too close. So, I could say I had never seen a water moccasin or cottonmouth, in the wild.

Foreshadowing

That was before today. A mile or so upriver, a squirming, swimming reptile appeared in front of me and drifted rapidly towards my kayak. I noticed it immediately: a 2-3 foot brownish red colored body, big head with a black bar over its eyes, its whole, thick body was floating above the water. My first water moccasin sighting! Face to face with death! It passed to about 3 feet of my kayak and then slithered to a weeded river bank and disappeared in the brush. Very cool encounter, and I would have never seen this had it not been for my early departure and the fact that I had the whole river to myself.
 Then.....more wildlife drifted towards me-  Humans! One canoe, then two. And then an armada of bright colored kayaks blocking the whole river. Around the river bends, they would lose control in the eddies and head for the banks and into each other and....ME! This is a little fun, as I get to hone my paddling skills and see the horrified looks on their faces when they see a kayaker headed towards them UP river! "You're going the wrong way!" I was told a dozen times. These were are paddlers from "Paddling Adventures", a company that launches from the state park at Weeki Wachee Springs. I myself, have launched my paddleboards from there when I have come down here with my daughters or anyone else who didn't want to paddle against the current. The last mile and half up river belongs to the state park, so there are no motor boats allowed. Except, of course for the big "jungle cruise" boats that take the tourists down river. This fact is evident by the lush,waving eel grass on the sandy bottom. I see more birds here as well: an osprey swoops the river from his perch high on a dead cypress tree, a cormorant sits perfecly still on a log as I pass 2 feet from it, an anhinga diving underwater. I go as far as I can up river to the floats that are blocking the river. On the other side lies "Buccaneer Bay", a water park adjacent to the "mermaid park". I pass by the dock loading up tourists on the big boat going down river. It is beauiful up here and I can only imagine the great sight of the main spring vent underneath my kayak.

 I polish off one Gatorade and start on another. I sit sideways and dip my feet in the cool spring water. Then, I start my drift down river. I stop and pull over under a huge cypress tree in a nice wooded canopied section of the river and go for a swim/snorkel. I spy a raccoon in a tree just ahead and film it crossing the river on tree limbs. I snack on a power bar, when  a passing kayaker asks me, "Is that your friend?" and motions behind me. I turn around and find a raccoon in my kayak!   He is going straight for my backpack where the goods are. I back up from him and maneuver to grab the front of the kayak and shake it and he scampers off into the woods without a fight. I did not feel like fending off a rabid raccoon today. I continue on, sans raccoon, and alternate between flying down river and bends past and in between the armada of novice kayakers and just slowly drifting and steering. The heat is sweltering now and I stop at a beach and cool off again, as well as downing a PBJ sandwich.

a relaxing beach

 Further down river, I spot something that catches my attention fast: a huge three foot high dorsal fin headed right towards me. It is a home made kayak fashioned after a large camoflage shark. The owner lives on Mud River, a tributary of the Weeki Wachee. I make it back to stop and take a couple of more dips and snorkelling adventures, including one at Hospital Hole. After 5 hours, I end my trip at Rogers Park. The Weeki Wachee is a river that has it all: wildlife, beautiful scenery, and even an ice cream salesman on a boat near Rogers Park! Although I love the solitude of more remote paddles, this river is a gem that has it high on my list of favorites. It is perhaps the most beautiful of all the rivers in Florida even with the population that enjoys it. Just watch out for snakes and raccoons.  
  

Shark!

July 14 Lake Maggiore




 The 26th body of water I have paddled- which puts me at the halfway mark of my goal of 52 different waterways paddled, is close to home at St. Petersburg's Lake Maggiore. I have never paddled this lake before, but have known about it for some time. In the 1980s this lake was popular for hydroplane boat races; those ultra light boats could reach speeds approaching 200mph. About 10 years ago, the lake was dredged to clean most of the muck off the bottom, which was caused by run off and too many mixtures of things running into the lake. A small canal on the Northeast side of the lake links it to Tampa Bay and saltwater. The lake is mostly freshwater and the salinity level is controlled . Interesting to note is the fishing. It is stocked with bass, redfish and snook- a nice combination of fresh and salt water gamefish. I talked to a fisherman this morning and he affirmed that all three of these species were present in the lake, and some healthy sized specimens at that! Across from the boat launch at the park that bears the lake's name, lies Boyd Hill Nature Preserve, which is a gem in St. Pete's urban jungle. This park offers hiking in a very nice wooded area that makes you forget that you're in the middle of the city. You can even take your bike inside the park and ride the trails.

facing Boyd Hill

At the launch

water clarity

 I launch at 9AM  in my kayak and head across towards the West in very shallow water. I spy a very big but shy alligator that disappears under the weed choked water. The water is surprisingly clear and visibility is about 10 feet is some spots. The weeds that are so visible here are choked with algae and the run up into Boyd Hill is clogged with too many weeds for decent kayaking, unless you like tossing 5 pounds of weeds around with every stroke. I hug the wooded shoreline which is bordered by tall grass and cattails. Huge pine trees hulk just behind the shoreline. It is a beautiful sunny day with a good breeze blowing from the South, which cools me off a bit and actually feels refreshing. I smell smoke from a controlled burn from inside Boyd Hill . I am the only one on this 380 acre lake this morning other than a pair of fisherman in a small fishing boat working the cattails near Boyd Hill.

St. Pete skyline just above the trees

fishing pier

 I comb the Western shore and head North towards Dell Holmes Park. There is a small creek here, but I don't see it.I explore a fishing pier in front of the park. From there, I head towards the center of the lake and sit motionless and listen to the peaceful sounds of moorhens, limpkins and distant osprey cries. Above the trees, to the East, I spy the St. Petersburg skyline complete with the big white dome of Tropicana Field. I head across the lake and the wind picks up, but it feels great on my face and I love the feel of the kayak rolling in the waves. Near shore, I spy a single roseate spoonbill feeding in the shallows.This was a pleasant morning that made me forget I was in the middle of the city. Mission accomplished.   

roseate spoonbill

what's up at Lake Maggiore

  

looking at the launch

Trip to Myakka River State Park

March 1,
Deep Hole! Myakka River and Lower Myakka lake: Land of a Thousand River Dragons.





  I was excited for this one, and I'll admit it, maybe a little scared. To venture into a sinkhole that is home to over a hundred gigantic alligators should make anyone a little nervous. I looked at countless photos, read trip reports, and  the time was now....before mating season!
 Deep Hole is a section of the Myakka River that reaches depths of about 140 feet.  This small area, just west of Lower Myakka Lake is home to countless very large alligators. What brings them here? Well, some say that Deep Hole is a natural fish trap. Fish head there, but they can only survive up near the surface as the lower depths are anaerobic and can't suport much life because of the lack of oxygen found there. Knowing this, aligators congregate here to feed and bask on the banks. The Myakka River runs through the state park which bears its name, where I'll be camping tonight if I'm lucky to score a campsite in the busy season. I will be venturing on the path less travelled. If you head south beyond the SR 72 bridge, you need a permit to enter the wilderness section. Only 30 people a day, either by watercraft or by foot(Deep Hole is also accessible via a hiking trail) are allowed. The ranger instructed me in a gruff voice to bring the permit back when I finished or they would have to look for me. Then they would send me the bill that would be "too large to pay off in this lifetime". Sounds like my kind of place. Anyways, some amazing photos and videos have been produced here that really stirred up my adventurous spirit, as well as confronting me with a challenge: would I be man enough to travel here alone in a kayak ?

toothy residents of Myakka River

Deep Hole from my kayak.

I arrived  a little early and waited patiently outside the gate.I could feel my heart beating a little faster and my mouth felt dry. Images of giant scaled dinosaurs danced through my head. Soon , I had my permit and map, and headed to the put in which was at the first bridge that crosses the Myakka and leads you into the state park. It was a nice worn path leading right into the river amidst some high marsh grass. After checking my surroundings carefully and watching a 10 footer cross in front of me, I set off on my adventure. I have been thinking of kayaking this river for years but I seemed a little comfortable in putting it off. Was it fear?
 The Myakka is a blackwater river in the truest sense of the word- the water is dark and you can't see the bottom. Better to imagine monsters.Most of my trek today will be through a prairie of high marsh grass and I will be crossing a large body of water, Lower Myakka Lake. Sunscreen and a hat are mandatory, unless you want melanoma. Upon entering the wilderness preserve,crossing under the SR 72 bridge, the river is somewhat narrow and canopied and very beautiful.  A nice shaded forest on one side and on the other, tall grass. Very soon, the river snakes narrowly through the marshland, and I begin to see some large black alligators contrasted against the pale, white brown straw; the reptiles stick out rather drastically here. With the river being so narrow and curvy, I am cautious around each bend. the current really picks up here in this section, and if you're not careful, it will drive you right into the bank with its toothy denizens.
 Upon reaching Lower Myakka Lake, I have to be careful and take note of my suroundings. The river enters the lake rather subtly, so I quickly spot a dead tree on the northern bank, which has two branches that reach upward like a ref signalling touchdown in a foot ball game. The river's entrance into the lake is also marked by marsh. Again, if you get careless, you could get lost.
 Another thing to note is that Florida has received a lot of rain this winter and we were absolutely pounded by rain this past summer, so the water level is very high. This can hide a lot of landmarks that are normally visible during lower water conditions. This will, unfortunately, affect how many alligators I will see at Deep Hole; deeper water means more hiding spots for them.
 Crossing this big lake is an arduous process: The sun beats down on you, muscles get tired quicker, you don't seem to be moving at all, and the wind, which can cause rough water. I hate open water crossings, however, I spot several huge alligators in the distance, crossing the wide expanse of the lake,  resembling barges crossing Tampa Bay.  I scan the nearby northern bank for wildlife. The water beneath me, although very dark, is alive with swirls,spalshes, and sudden whirlpools that keep me wide awake.  The wind, today, is non existant; the surface of the lake looks like glass.
 Reaching the end of the crossing, much to my chagrin, there is an airboat present right in front of what seems to be Deep Hole. Its occupant seems to be spraying some sort of disfoliant on the bank. There is a large compressor running, not to mention the airboat itself which is LOUD.I aim to give the airboat a wide berth and  head towards an enormous black alligator  sunning itself on a sandbar. Before I can get a good picture , it flies into the water. I cross over towards a cluster of exotic looking palm trees onshore that look like the ones from the pics of Deep Hole, and then I see it: vultures on the bank and higher up in the grass are a few gators.

Deep Hole 3/1

Deep Hole at skinny water conditions

I'm here! As I get closer , I realize that while I won't see 100 alligators here today, I will see and do see about 20 gators or so, in this tiny cul du sac. Most are in the water. I notice one beast that would probably measure 12 feet or so if he were on land. I get as close to the shore as I dare, and an eight footer rises up on its legs and enters the water, always a cool sight to see them "walking". I circle along the bank and notice that I am probably moving over what was months ago, land. I'm not sure how much of this area comprises this sinkhole; I saw a documentary by National Geographic, that had divers in steel cages sinking to the bottom in an effort to see what was down there and measure the depth, but they gave no clue how wide across the sinkhole was. Since the water is black, it is hard to tell unless you slip off your kayak and swim to the bottom! I make one more cautious pass by the East bank where the sunning gators are and head back. I will have to come back when conditions are drier and no airboats are present, however, this was still a beautiful and wild sight.I had never seen more alligators concentrated in one area than I've seen here. It reminds me of documentaries about Africa and the clusters of wildlife you see there. The sensation of gliding across this area in my kayak hearing nothing but the water from my paddle strokes, the beating of my own heart, and the tension I felt of being surrounded by big aquatic creatures capable of killing me, is unforgettable.
 Speaking of unforgettable and tension, there was still the paddle back remaining, which would be even more memorable. Once reaching the river succesfully, as I remembered my landmarks, I had to paddle against a moderately strong current that created some strong eddies along each river bend. Not long after I entered this maze of grass and black water, I heard a very deep and unmistakeable low growl. Was it an airboat? My stomach? I pressed on and rounded a couple more river bends, and then I heard it again; this time the sound was louder and more menacing. My throat instantly dried up and my heart skipped a beat as I realized something: I was in the vicinity of a very large predator who was pissed off! I rounded one more bend and I heard another LOUDER warning from a very large bull alligator. It sounded as if a lion would come bursting through this wall of grass and seize me from my kayak. I went into hyperdrive, desperate to make distance between us. I rounded one more corner and came within a paddle length's distance from a very fat, 10 foot bull alligator lying on a mud mound in the grass, sizing me up. This was the closest I've been to an alligator of this size. Very cool.
 I once again reached the canopied area of my trip and the scenery here is very beautiful. I relaxed and considered pulling up to a bank and having a well deserved lunch break in the shade, when I spotted two large alligators on a bank. Maybe some other time. I glided up slowly to get a close up photo with my ipod which does not take good pictures. I made one little twitch and in a fraction of a second, the 9 footer exploded into the water violently. So fast and quick. I soon left the wilderness preserve and entered back into Myakka River State Park. I had lunch on the bank at a beautiful picnic area. The ranger station called me earlier as I checked my phone and they had some good news: there would be a campsite available for me tonight!
 The Myakka River was so different from any other river I've paddled. The wilderness preserve definately gives you a sense of isolation(although, not from airboats). Lower Myakka Lake is a huge expanse of water, and on bodies of water such as this, I am used to seeing signs of civilization such as plenty of boats and jetskis. I was the only one on the water for miles around and that is a pretty cool, although a little scary, feeling. I didn't count the alligators, but I'll be confident in saying it was 100 even. I saw NO trash in the water which gives me hope. Any minor aggravation in having to secure a permit to enter the preserve is worth it to keep the human impact to a minimum. If you want to experience wild Florida, this is as good as it gets.
Myakka River State Park
 This park encompasses 58 square miles of wetlands, pinelands, oak hammocks, and a large dry prairie. The park was developed by the Civilian Conservation Corps in 1934. It is a gem. There are at least 7 miles of paved road that goes through the park and it's very ideal for biking. The bridge, where I put in for my kayak trip , is a very popular place for campers to fish and gaze at the alligators, especially at night. I enjoyed the Canopy Walkway and Tower, which is 76 feet high. I visited it three times for the fantastic view at the top. It's a must see. Linking you to the tower section is the canopy walkway which is supported by cables. Only 4 people are allowed on it at once, and it swings and bounces you along as you walk 25 feet over the ground.
 The Myakka Outpost is the main hub of action:the fishing platform on the river near the weir or dam, airboat tours,tram tours, etc. I bought firewood at the outpost. It is built right on Upper Myakka Lake which is a huge body of water, a little bigger than the lower lake I kayaked. You can even eat aligator stew there , although I don't like alligator meat much...too greasy. This time of year is definately the busy season and there are RVers galore, so when I pulled into Big Flats campground, it resembled a retirement villa. I was pleasantly surprised to find my tent campsite down a ways from the main circle and isolated. I even had a view of the vast meadows to the west and I had a great view of the sunset.
 At dusk, they sound air cannons and fireworks to scare the vultures away and for good reason: they tend to eat windshield wipers off of cars! This sound is like a velociraptor passing gas.
 I met some interesting people. One was Paula, who I met up at the bridge. She was a 60 something year old lady visiting the park with her elderly mother. She was interested in kayaking Florida and I told her a few stories about the rivers here. She was from Michigan and bike camped to Mackinaw bridge there, over 500 miles and 9 days with some friends of hers. She loves to bike and kayak like I do. She was telling me about how beautiful Lake Michigan was, and how I had to visit it someday.
 Another interesting character was my camping neighbor, whose name I forgot. She was visiting with her dog and had a nice camper. She was fond of wine and song and serenaded the campsite for hours with her ukele. Her 11 yr old doberman was skittish at first, but very friendly once she got used to you, diving her head under your hand like Macy and Bonsai do, demanding you to pet her. After finishing a rousing renditon of The shaving cream song, she invited me over for a glass of organic strawberry lemonade(I don't drink anything stronger than organic lemonade). She was a nurse and after a few glasses of wine(obviously), told me some harrowing childbirth stories of her own experience, and professional(she worked in labor and delivery). She exclaimed proudly at one point: " I could drive a mack truck through this pelvis". At this point, I thanked her for the lemonade and bug spray, yawned very loudly, and retreated rapidly for my tent!
 I was amazed by the awesome wildlife sounds of the birds of Myakka. I heard on owl right above my head, and a flock of some weird high pitched echoing bird calls. The doberman next door chased off a raccoon, and at some point during the night, I thought I heard a pig squealing. I heard sounds I have never heard before. I brought my headphones into the tent to listen to my ipod, but I couldn't do it and was whisked to sleep by the wild.
General information:
 To access Myakka River State Park from I-75 near Sarasota, exit onto SR 72 and head East for about 10 miles or so. Park entrance is on your left. $4.00 to enter the park for a day, 30 bones to camp. Bring a kayak and bicycle if you can.
  

Potts Preserve

March 23-24   Gum Slough and Withlacoochee River from Potts Preserve
 Inverness





 This trip was a repeat- I have paddled these waters before, but no trip is an actual repeat is it? Rivers always change, and each trip to these same rivers offer a different feel and experience. That was very evident this time. I had done Gum Slough for the very first time about 3 years ago with a friend of mine from work and I came away very impressed and vowed to return. I regret that I haven't returned sooner. This river or slough travels 4-6 miles(depending on who you ask) from a spring source deep in the Sumter County swampwoods and flows into the Withlacoochee River, a long, dark blackwater river that runs through West Central Florida. It can run real shallow, so it is best to paddle Gum Slough when water is a little higher, and  for this year in Florida, that has been no problem. The definition of a slough can mean: a ditch, backwater, swamp river, place of mud and mire, or whatever you can imagine a slough to be. However, it is a body of water so it counts! To me, it is a wild and remote spring fed river that changes personality from a cypress hardwood swamp like Hillsborough River and morphs into Rock Springs Run, as it runs through thin channels of water weeds, hyacinths, or like I call it: lettuce or lechuga. Only Juniper Creek has more personality changes. This time, I am joined by a good friend of mine, James Ross, a young husband and father of two young children, so I have to make sure he returns alive in this wild place. I also will take the battered and definately not beautiful Big Daddy, my 17 foot canoe, to which I have added five new fiberglass patches since its last trip to Rock Springs Run. I have also secured a permit to camp at Potts Preserve,8500 acres that offer a few spectacular camping spots as well as hiking and biking trails. The first time I paddled Gum Slough, I stopped here for a rest and I vowed to camp here. It is owned by SWFMD, Southwest Florida Water Management District. It costs no money and you apply for a permit online. It was available for two days only this week in the middle of hunting season, so I applied immediately. 
 The weather forecast called for sunny skies and a full moon on Wed. night with increasing clouds moving in on Thurs. We arrived at the Potts Preserve gate at 9:50 am, and after a war with the stubborn combination lock, we entered the preserve via a scenic and bumpy road. We arrived shortly after, at a sign in station for hikers, horse riders, and bikers. The sign in sheet was a little troubling: the last page had been ripped in half and there were comments like, "Kill the   police", "I hope those three policemen are found dead", and one hiker wrote in the comment section, "This place is scarry". These sentiments were punctuated by two bullet holes in the plexiglass cover over the trailhead bulletin board! Did I mention that it was hunting season here? But hunting for what?I add "I hear banjos" to the comment section. After a few nervous glances and laughs, James and I pressed on to the campsite; a lovely spot right on the tannin stained Withlacoochee River, that was as picturesque a site as you will ever see.  The entire property on the river was beautifully maintained; a gorgeous looking meadow with the grass cut short, with a distinct, tall slim palm tree standing between the campsites sold me on this place immediately. It looked like paradise. The shoreline featured a small sandy beach and rows of cypress knees around it. Over on the North side of the camping area stands a 10 foot tall Indian midden or mound. We had a picnic table that was canopied by palm and cypress trees and a nice fire pit with a flip over grill. We even had an additional bar-b-que grill behind it. The bathroom looked, from the outside at least as a nice facility,a fine looking concrete structure, but upon using it for my pre paddle pee break, it was just a glorified port a let. The smell was horrendous!There was no running water, so I was glad I purchased my 2 gallons of water.
 We set up my new tent that the Rosses had given us for Christmas and it was massive and a bit complicated to set up: an eight man tent with a porch, two different kinds of poles and curious looking corner joints. A hour learning curve was required.  Another camping party arrived after we put the finishing touches on the set up, so we looked like pros. It was a family of four: mom, dad and two small kids and two dogs.They seemed nice.
 Finally, at 11:40, we shoved off towards Gum Slough,whose confluence lay right across the campsite. It's fairly easy to find, especially with Potts Preserve as a landmark. It enters the Withlacoochee from the East and winds into a canopied, dark jaunt into the Sumter Co. woods. Immediately, the dark, black water of the Withlacoochee begins to clear up and you can see the bottom 6 feet down. The river winds South a bit then turns back Northeast; we pass a small section where the sun breaks free of the thick canopy overhead and spy a small alligator sunning itself amongst the thick lettuce. We enter the thick canopy again, where we continue against a modest current for an hour or so. The river here is about 20 feet across and it gets clearer as you go further upstream. Huge cypress trees line the banks, which are covered with cypress knees, so it is hard to find a "smooth" place to pull your watercraft onto shore and rest. This slough is also an obstacle course as we weave through and around submerged branches and massive logs that are barely under the surface. A giant great blue heron flies ahead of us, stops until we catch up and then flies ahead again. There always seems to be a feathered escort up these rivers.
 We break free of the canopy and enter an area that widens to about 40-50 feet across and is marked by several smaller channels forging their way through the hyacinth lettuce.Two distinct cypress trees that look a little like the oriental style bonsai tree, mark the beginning of this section. The water is beautiful and clear with plenty of eel grass waving in the increasingly stronger current. The water is a crystal clear, aqua blue color and it can be quite deep in sections, a contrast from the shallow water heading up in the canopied section. We pass a lone house on the North bank, a beautiful home that has a dock right over the river. The owners have found true paradise and no neighbors for miles. 2 hours into our paddle, we start to see some limestone on the banks. We pass a beautiful, pristine spring marked by a boil on the surface of the water. Gliding over it, peering into the clear depths, we see the spring about 15 feet down with a cloud of orange colored bream darting about. The air smells fragrant,floral even. I remarked to James on a few occasions on how the air is "different out here". The river then passes into a section where we have to negotiate a maze of small limestone boulders-true spring country. We pass around a bend that is heavily bordered by cattails and lettuce, and at last, after 2.5 hours upstream, a cabin appears as a ghost through the trees ahead, signalling our arrival to the headsprings.But something is different today. The area has about 5 small boxes  that are held in place by PVC pipe. There is a sign that explains that these are research boxes from the University of Florida. It appears that the university has set up shop here to measure salt content and discharge flow from the springs. At the second cabin, we see about 10 kayaks on shore and hear voices inside the cabin. We retreat down river a bit and enter a small run to another secluded spring named Alligator Spring. This spring area is only about 15 feet across and about 8 feet deep. The banks are muddy, but we find a fairly good option and pull the canoe over to give our butts a break and to do some snorkeling. It smells of sulphur here because of the mud.Sadly, the spring is covered with a lot of algae,meaning a probable high nitrate content. I slip into the cool waters and scan around me for reptiles! Apparently, this spring was named after a 10 foot alligator who used to lie at the bottom of this spring. That was from a description 15 years ago or so.No alligator.I dove down towards the vent of the spring which was beautiful. Upon surfacing, I was chilled to the bone and decided to end my dip. This area is covered with trees and secluded.A very wild and remote place for a dip. We enter the canoe again , go down the small spring run, and pull over in the shallows for a well deserved lunch break. The highlight is that I try out my Life Straw, a water filter that looks just like a big, thick, blue straw. I prime it by placing into the water and suck on it a few times until delicious , cool spring water enters into my mouth.I take a long drink and it tastes suprisingly better than my water supply I've been drinking upriver. Time will tell if this device truly filters out 99.99% of all bacteria. I wait for giardia to hit, but it doesn't!

wild beauty of Gum Slough

trying out the Life straw near Alligator spring

earlier trip on Gum Slough

 After our feast we head downriver with the current for the pleasure cruise home. We pass all the usual landmarks and take in the beauty. We pass the only house on the river on the right and I remember that the true channel of Gum Slough lies to the left of us; we have to find the channel or forge our way back on a new and seldom/never travelled avenue. We miss it, and soon enter an unmistakeable stretch of wild that I've never seen before. I spy a little cut through the forest to our left and we enter a very narrow passage. Something ahead and to the right of us glides across the water pushing an enormous amount of water behind it, creating a massive wake. It is a huge alligator. I only see the head, which is absolutely gigantic. This could be a 12 footer! It hurries towards a bank to our left and disappears in shallow water; the undisputed king of this neighborhood has appeared!
 As we head further downstream, we have to exit the canoe several times to portage over logs and other obstructions, as the water grows more shallow and the river more narrow. After struggling this way for about an hour, I come to a grim discovery: we have to turn back. We have to once again , negotiate this obstacle course and retrace our journey back to known landmarks- the house if we have to. We once again, exit the canoe and pull it through the shallows over logs as our feet sink in the mud, often to our knees. The inside of the canoe is filled with branches, twigs and mud. We continue upstream and James notices a familiar bonsai/cypress tree. Not convinced where we are, I decide to push on until we see the house again. We turn around. It is getting late, about 5pm, and if we make another wrong turn, we might be faced with the reality of spending the night in the swamp. I remember passing a small cut to our left earlier, and I believe that to be our turn. This time I take it. We find some markers on the trees and follow them. After an hour, the river is still about 20  feet wide, and I am finally convinced we're on the Slough again. The light grows brighter up ahead through the canopy and after another hour we are back on the Withlacoochee and at the campsite; we've spent 6.5 hours or so on the river! A great day.
 We pull up to the small beach and stretch. I soon fire up my small pocket rocket, boil some water, and soon James and I are lounging on campchairs eating chicken flavored rice. Early evening is here and some stars peak out. It is going to be a beautiful, clear night with a full moon. We start on the fire and soon have a big bonfire going. As darkness falls, fireflies come out and dance around the meadow, hundreds of them. The neighbor's kids are shrieking with delight and it echoes across the river. Birds begin their symphony and the gators grunt. The sounds of the wild are upon us. It is glorious. Less glorious is a trip I have to make to the outhouse, but the coolness and chill of the air take a lot of the horrific stench out of the concrete bunker. Soon, the moon rises over the trees and backlights the treeline behind the meadow. It looks very eerie and spooky, but peaceful. The constellation Orion twinkles over head. I have a very peaceful rest that night as the owls and gators serenade me to sleep.
3/24
The next morning we eat breakfast and break camp. Afterwards we take a nice, almost 4 mile journey on the Withlacoochee. Downriver from Potts, the river widens to about 100 feet across or so and then splits off in a few narrow directions or small streams that are bordered by weeds.The river bank is covered with the cylindrical cypress knees. It is a pleasant and refreshing morning and the fisherman come out to seek largemouth bass and stumpknockers. The river is shallow and dark. The Withlacoochee is a 100 mile or so river that originates in the Green swamp and eventually heads North into Lake Rousseau near Dunnellon. It changes character a few times along the way from a narrow stream to a wide cypress lined darkwater river that enters many lakes. Only three springs that I know of flow into it: Gum Slough, Blue Spring, and Rainbow Springs.
   This ends a great trip to a very beautiful and virtually unnoticed part of Florida. Potts Preserve is a very well maintained campground and for the price to camp(it's free!!!!), you can't beat it. There are no ammenties here; no running water, probably no toliet paper-so plan accordingly. You can apply for a permit online by searching Potts Preserve. I got a response in three days. Listed on the website are dates that the preserve will be closed.