A RIVER OF TIME

Georgia to the Gulf, 225 river miles, 10 paddle days

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Day 8, Riverside camp (59 rm) to Fanning Springs State Park (34.5rm)

A riverside night, the only sounds were mullet and Sturgeon jumping.

As I began the day there was yet another spring just down the way – another corner to explore. In doing some research prior to this paddle was the advice passed along to NOT paddle the river quickly, take your time – good advice.

In between the periodic sound of a mullet, sturgeons would do the same – these are large (size of a dog) fish that completely clear the water before falling back and creating quite a SPLASH, I heard many along the way, none that I could predict.

There are warning signs posted noting injury if one happened to land in your lap – I think the odds are small and never felt concern – but I did catch a few glimpses of them.  These fish can be huge and sound like a porpoise hitting the water.  Certainly the odds increase if in a power boat……

Approaching Gonto Springs I admired the individual efforts at dockage – some folks are more successful than others.  The occasional ‘flush’ of water coming down the pike has to be considered, and I’m sure the dead trees/logs/debris wreak their own share of havoc to those structures in the way – along this part of the Suwannee I realized where old pontoons go to pasture…..

The docks have pretty much evolved yet still remain improvised in various ways to suit the shore-scape, lots of plastic pickle barrels and lots of old pontoons – then there were ‘Florida rooms’ built in all kinds of places on all kinds of posts and trees.  A good number improperly shored or braced – character right?

There were also some solid one’s too.

While taking a stretch there was this little spring coming from some picturesque woods, figured that I might take a walk and take a picture or two, – Ahead across the dew I felt something lurking in my direction, a white object moving stealth-like towards me – I slowly (and quietly) pushed back out in the kayak and sat motionless watching its continued approach.

This albino doberman sniffed his way to the shore and was nothing but muscle – seemed well mannered too.  He wasn’t being aggressive towards me but then with a single bark, I moved on.  Wild looking and I say ‘albino’ because I noticed pinkish nose and ear coloring – “no maas.”

‘Paradise’ (its for sale).

A logging operation ramp (like on the discovery channel) along with several other machines that make it happen.  I noticed only this operation while on the river – from what I hear they can log whats under the water but cannot disturb what is below the waterline.  Another one of those things to ponder on, could the logging disturb the natural process of the Suwannee (water quality or bottom erosion)? – I didn’t come up with an answer.

A boat-ramp mangled by the roots of an old oak.

I had been thinking too about what someone had asked me a few days earlier “Whats your purpose?” they asked as I passed – “just paddling” was my response, but it left me thinking.

I paddle for several reasons, (one) – I like the back-roads of our country because they are less exposed and intriguing, maybe waterways are similar, older avenues.  (two) I see new things, interesting things – ideas.

Paddling is also pretty basic, cost-effective, eco-friendly, and it’s a pleasant ride between here and somewhere else.

After lunch the wind came from the South in a convincing manner, the Suwannee is much wider now and its almost possible  to watch the wind ‘funneling’ down or racing across the water towards you – have the hat-strap to the front.  Because of how the river meanders it is also possible to work the wind much like paddling against a current, utilizing wind-eddy’s or land features for ‘dead-air’ instead of the water kind.  Having a compass on the bow is interesting too, I looked and watched it frequently for Gulf orientation.

Unrelenting wind, all day – white caps even, the spray-skirt came in handy for both the wind and the sun.  As for my arms, I haven’t noticed them in several days, I know they are there moving the paddles but I’m relaxed and enjoying the scenery.  Sorta like like riding a bicycle, feet are moving and you’re just sittin there just there ‘lookin around – such has been my paddlin lately.  Paddle on.

Railroad trestle above Fanning Springs

Gator buddy, I didn’t see alot of gators maybe five or six all together – not sure why, April is early in the year – they court in May.

There were several sections of the river where it was possible to hear traffic long before you saw it or the bridge carrying it, this area before Fanning Springs and Hwy 98 was one of those areas (I-75 from White Springs was the other).

A forgotten landing above Fanning Springs (cut-off by a new highway I think).

Fanning Springs

It had been a tough paddle against the wind all day, 21-miles I think, and it was after 4 pm.  Just after Hwy-98 bridge was Fanning Springs State Park a welcome sight, and with a weather front coming through I wasn’t going any further tonight.

As I approached the State Park ramp this group of Outward-Bound girls were just setting out, evidently they paddle, camp, exercise, and discuss getting their lives back on track before setting out for the day.  I have ran into these groups before on the Suwannee (once at Cone Bridge) and admire the young leaders for doing such a thing in/with this environment – leaving me to appreciate the Suwannee a little more for being such a quality environment.

Fanning Springs State Park emphasis is more on the Springs to which the community (‘cut-offs and dated bathing suits’) frequent rather than camping – so there are no established campsites with power or water service.  There is a cold-water outside shower or there are the springs, no hot water shower to defunk, I used the springs.

The camp sites are in a field with a large fire-ring and near an out door stage.  The highway and eating establishments (land-food) are just across the street, its a deal for 5-bucks a night (and its level).

It had been a great day of paddling, even with the head-wind.

Barely making it back after a fine oyster dinner I squared things away for any impending storm which might arrive during the night (it came at 6 am it was gone in an hour and a half).

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Facebook Post; “Mon – day 8; 22 hard miles against a stiff wind, camped Fanning Springs”

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Next day, day-9;

  • Day 9 - to Anderson River Camp

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