Spring Hoppin' on the Santa Fe River
June officially(at least for me) marks the start of summer and here in my home state, it gets very hot and sticky, to say the least. Staying indoors in the AC is not an option, so a lot of outdoor enthusiasts like myself head for the cool, frigid waters of the Florida aquafier. During these hot summer months(a gross understatement), I love to paddle in waters where I can jump in and instantly be revived from a heat so oppressive, it feels as if a warm hot blanket was thrown over you as you were chucked in an oven. So today, I take my traveling companions, daughters Samantha and Hope, and head three hours North to the Santa Fe River, near High Springs. The stretch of the Santa Fe we will be paddling is home to at least 6 springs that I know of and possibly more the further downriver we go. The Santa Fe is a beautiful tannin stained river and a major tributary of the Suwanee. In studying the river maps of the Santa Fe, it is dotted with several swirls along its route that indicate the presence of springs. Ginnie Springs, probably the most well known group of springs on this river, has an underground cave system that lures thousands of scuba diving enthusiasts from all over the world to this beautiful place in North Florida. Unfortunately, Ginnie Springs also attracts thousands of college students who love to get inebriated out of their skulls and toss all of the left over aluminum in the river. I have camped at Ginnie Springs in the past and have loved it; the campsites are beautiful and very quiet during the week when school's in session. So, it is a very popular river and rightfully so.
I decide to drive up the Suncoast Parkway and jump on 19 to Chiefland. From there, I take 129 North, past a small town named Bell, and cut across CR 138 to 47 North to the 138 again, to the entrance of Rum Island Park. I avoided I 75 and the construction mess that it is these days. I have grown fond of driving the backroads through the small towns of Florida, towns in which I wished I lived, as the Tampa Bay area has become so overcrowded with people and road rage. I also drive past a section of Levy County that I wish to paddle in the future. I pass the Anclote, Pithlachascotee,Weeki Wachee, Chassahowitzka,Homosassa, Halls,Withlacoochee, Waccasassa, and finally the Santa Fe rivers. The 47 bridge that passes over the Santa Fe, is a narrow, picturesque bridge; it is canopied by trees and the river below looks very inviting,dark and mysterious. I pull into Rum Island County Park, which costs NOTHING, and launch the canoe in the beautiful tannin stained water. Rum Island sounds like a place that might have harbored illegal bootleggers a century ago; today, it is our paddling hub where we plan on going upriver against a moderately strong current to Lily Springs and then drift back down to explore more springs.
The river is beautiful. As we launch, Samantha spots a red shouldered hawk perched on a dock overlooking the water. It spies us and flies across the river seemingly to beckon us to follow him up the river-our unofficial tour guide. Many times as I paddle these rivers, I have been accompanied by a winged tour guide that flies ahead and waits as I paddle to catch up. This might go on for miles at times. This time the hawk "leads" us past the small island and disappears in the trees on the opposite river bank. I have read that the Santa Fe is famous for an abundance of turtles, and this is immediately evident as we pass by a group of 16 of these hardbodies sunning on a log. I spy an enormous softshell turtle basking on a sandy bank the same way an alligator would. The number of turtles might be explained by the dearth of gators. I will not see one today. The river is wide, about 100 feet in most places, so on this hot,humid, sunny day I begin to sweat as I head upriver. There are also many cypress trees that line the banks here including some really old giants. The Santa Fe is not a "wild" or remote river at all; there are a few houses spread out along our route, but it has a really nice peaceful vibe that beckons you back to a much simpler era. On this Wednesday morning there are quite a few kayakers, canoeists, and fisherman out enjoying the day. One woman is swimming ahead of us in shallow water with a look on her face that says, "I don't have a worry in the world". Indeed, there doesn't appear to be any big reptiles on this stretch of the river.
We soon arrive at our first destination: Lily Springs,home of naked Ed. Let me explain. Naked Ed is Ed Watts, a 66 year old man, who lives here at Lily Springs. He is the springs's caretaker, and is thus allowed to live at the springs as he has done since 1985. Ed is not the shy type- he is a nudist. There is a sign as you enter the swift current of the spring run that reads, "Naked Ed Ahead". Ed, apparently lives in a dilapitated hut with a dock right on the main spring vent of this small spring. On the dock there is chest high fence built around it to protect the innocent, although Ed frequently likes to skinny dip with the visitors. The fence is there in case there is a family with small children coming to visit. The spring on this day is very clear although tannin stained. It looks like a big pool of ice tea. I spy a couple of deep pockets with water venting out. There is considerable flow from this small spring; rowing against the current is hard work in a canoe full of people. We land the canoe on a small beach and I take a dip and snorkel the springs. I am instantly refreshed in these ultra cool waters. On shore,there are several signs that contain Ed's philosphies on life. It is an amusing scene. Today, we have Lily Springs to ourselves-no Ed in sight. As we leave, a couple in their 60s pulls up in their kayaks and they appear slightly impatient for us to leave. As we head down the run, Samantha looks back and sees the woman in her au-natural bathing suit. Ed would be proud, no doubt.
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| Welcome to "bad Naked" |
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| Samantha at Lily Springs sans Ed |
Coming back downriver, the paddling traffic seems to pick up as there are several canoes full of loud college students.We stop again at a very small spring that I spotted just upriver from Rum Island. The water from this spring is turquoise blue and stands in sharp contrast to the brown river. It is a very small pool about waist deep. I cool off again and admire the surroundings. This would make the best camping spot overlooking the river and watching the clear water run into the dark river like cream in coffee. We seem to be ahead of the spring hoppers today, as our "nudists" soon pass by us. Another younger couple, pulls up in their kayaks, the same couple that entered Lily Spring run as we were leaving, and ask us what the name of this spring is. "Whatever you want to call it spring", I say. The young woman remarks that it will be christened "Molly Spring". Hopefully, it will not be home to an eccentric old nudist woman in 40 years.
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| Un named spring |
To quote from a popular Seinfeld episode, "There is good naked and bad naked". We had seen the "bad" naked, now we were off to see the "good". Naked Spring was our next destination and it was the highlight of the trip. To reach it, we soon spot Blue Run just past Rum Island spring. It is a good sized run and lights the surrounding water up dramatically. The contrast of the silvery blue colored water and the honey colored Santa Fe is the most dramatic yet; where it meets is a definite border that looks a little like blood. Blue Run is also punctuated by a 10 foot high or so wooden boardwalk that runs alongside it. We folllow it upstream for an agonizingly hard 5 minute paddle against a very strong current and then turn left. The run splits into two directions: To continue straight would lead you to Blue Spring, which was very populated this day. To the left, the path least travelled: the run to Naked Springs. It is the path least travelled, because we have to portage around three huge trees that have fallen over the small stream. We exit the canoe and enter the gin clear, waist deep water.The first log I push the canoe under, but the next two I have to lift and pull the Big Daddy up and over; the last one is a real doozy, no doubt ripping off yet another fiberglass patch from the Daddy's battered hull. Once past the obstacles, I re enter the canoe as Samantha and Hope swim to the spring.
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The path least travelled
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It is the most beautiful spring: Two visible vents that look black underneath the silver/blue water, a towering old cypress tree overlooking the pool, and it is deserted! I take a swim and snorkel this most beautiful place; there is none of the ugly algae here that unfortunately covers the bottom of springs today. Maybe the most pristine, like the first spring James and I encountered on Gum Slough. I chase a couple of bluegill and bass around and explore the spring vents, which at the deepest might be 10 -12 feet down. there is a wooden dock on the spring, and off in the distance you can see Blue spring and its crowds, but this place is deserted. Timing is everything-after 30 minutes of having this spring to ourselves, a few people make their way up the run. I am the only paddler here; the others have to swim up the beautiful and wild looking run that is bordered on each side by tropical plants and trees. As we head back, several nervous looking people trepidiciously make their way towards the spring. I assure them that they have nothing to fear-the anaconda has already fed!
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old cypress
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| Naked Springs |
After a nice float down Blue Run, which was now vacant as most people arrived at congested Blue spring, we head back upriver to Rum Island. We never make it to Ginnie springs, but that is good news in a way, because it means we had several good springs to explore before we arrived at the most famous system. After almost 4 hours and miles on the river we head back to Rum Island and call it a day. I think a camping trip would be most appropriate on this river, as there is too much to explore in one day. In all we visited 5 springs and saw good and bad naked!
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