Dance After Dark Photography

Today Patty and I set off to kayak the 5-mile route from the Ocklawaha to Silver Springs. This is the same trip I tried to make a month or two ago, when the geography creatively realigned itself and I wound up kayaking the Lower Wekiva instead (because I know where that one is.)Guess what! Same thing!We were on track for almost half of our trip. We had directions this time. Unfortunately, we forgot a turn and wound up driving 30 minutes out of the way. In our defense, we were supposed to make two turns onto Highway 44 because it jogs along with several other roads. Because it was the same road name, we forgot that we hadn’t made the second turn. We wound up on 441 in exactly the same spot that I hit on my first attempt. After half an hour of trying to get back on track without actually backtracking, we gave up and headed back.We put in at Katie’s Landing on the Wekiva and headed upriver toward the springs. We didn’t really have an objective, so we kept going until we were tired. As we progressed, I hoped we’d hit a landmark that would help me judge the distance we covered. Eventually we hit the two big fields of water lilies that are a mile north of the Wekiva Marina. At that point, we had to turn around both because we were nearly exhausted and because we were pushing our luck to get back by sunset.The trip was fun. It may also have been the longest trip I’ve made yet. We didn’t really have any of the hair-raising experiences I seem to engender when I hit the water. All of that happened en route, apparently. I’ve already mentioned the geographic instability, but my car died 3 times before we even left Sanford. It didn’t reoccur, so I think everything should be fine. Figures that something would happen, though. It’s just out of warranty. Distance: approx 15 miles, round tripCalories burned: approx 4400

Alt title: Again with the alligators?

Today I set off in search of the Silver River. The plan was to put in at Ray Wayside Park in/near Ocala, paddle upstream on the Ocklawaha River to the Silver River, and then follow that to Silver Springs. I looked up directions online. I looked a lot. In fact, I was supposed to go on Monday, so I’ve got the whole route memorized.

How I managed to NOT find the Silver River, then, is beyond me. What’s worse, I could barely get out of Eustis. It’s like the Universe twisted in upon itself. I’d take the correct turn according to my directions, the street signs, and my own impeccable Zen Driving Skills. All signs and portents agreed that I was headed in the right direction, but somehow I kept getting turned around (without making any turns) and hitting 441 right back in Eustis or Leesburg.

The short version of the story is that after an hour and a half of increasing frustration with the obvious geographic instability and with the incredibly slow traffic around me, I gave up. I had already resigned myself to heading north on 441 and taking the long way to Ocala, but nature stepped in and changed my mind. The forecast said there was only a 10% chance of rain, so when the sky opened up and spat forth a deluge as I made my 4th turn onto 441 North… Well, I’ll take that as a sign. Of course, being stuck with other cars that would only occasionally reach 25-35mph played a part in my decision. The interminable construction zones helped, too.

As a default backup plan, I went out on the Wekiva. This time I headed north and explored the Lower Wekiva instead of heading south, back toward the springs. I’m not sure I’ll do that solo again. It was very pretty, but I saw several very large alligators. I’ve seen big ones before, but in the Upper Wekiva there’s more boat traffic. The gators tend to be smaller. The Lower Wekiva is narrower, which means both fewer boats and less room for me to get by without risking a reptilian confrontation.

I have no clue how far I went today. It took me an hour and a half to get back against the current, so I’d estimate the total round trip at 9-10 miles. If you go in a straight line, it’s 5 miles from where I put in to the St Johns River. The Wekiva does not go in a straight line. About a mile before the St Johns, the Wekiva broadens out again. I didn’t make it that far, but I think I came close.

What prompted me to turn around was the biggest alligator I’ve ever seen. Well, the biggest one I’ve seen outside of a zoo. I was drifting along silently, taking pictures of an ibis and a cormorant. I drifted past a log that reached halfway out into the river, and on the other side of the log was a mud embankment. Upon said embankment rested the extremely huge alligator. He saw me first. I was looking the other way, and I only turned when he bulled into the water. Because of the mass quantities of water being thrown about, the only part I saw was his tail.

Did I take a picture? Noooo. I dropped the camera (with the strap around my neck, thankfully) and snatched up the paddle, brandishing it as if it were a spear and screaming my fearsome battle cry: “WHAAAaaahuh?”

A few seconds later, I saw his head resurface about 100ft upstream. I’m not kidding when I say that his head was the size of my torso. You’d think I would have turned around at this point, but I decided to keep going for two reasons. Three if you count stupidity. First, I didn’t want to turn my back on the alligator. It was obviously scared of me, but it didn’t go all that far away. It’s as if the gator paused and thought, “Wait… Is he tasty?” Second, turning would have been a very slow process because of the narrow stretch between downed tree and opposite bank.

I splashed as much as I could and put on some serious speed, zooming past the gator as it shrank back under the roots of an overturned cypress. I continued slowly exploring for about an hour before I ran into another gator in a similarly narrow and confined space. I decided I’d had enough, so I very noisily made my way back upstream.

I forgot to bring my sunblock and sunglasses, so my only protection was my very silly, very floppy hat. No, you will not see pictures of it. My shoulders are pretty crispy. Downstream I made as much use of the shade along each bank as possible, but after encountering 5 alligators I opted to keep to the center of the river instead.

Lazy afternoon

Wow. Busy day today! I got moving at 9:00 this morning, despite a severe crick in my neck and ominous clouds on the horizon. I loaded up the kayak and put in at Katie’s Landing on the Wekiva River. I went upstream for about an hour, taking my time and taking pictures. That’s right, folks. I finally brought the camera long. This is the first time since I bought my own kayak that the camera has made the journey with me.

As if my 2.5-3 mile trip up the Wekiva wasn’t enough, I just got back from the YMCA where my workout total equaled 25,930 lbs! I’m tired!

Alternate title: I’m tired!

Last night after work I joined the Wilderness Trekkers for a moonlight paddle on the Winter Park chain of lakes. I think the final count was 27 kayaks and canoes, some with 2-3 people. We put in at Dinky Dock on Lake Virginia, took the canals to Lake Osceola and Lake Maitland, and had a rather pleasant campfire on Dog Island. The little bald spot on the southern shore has a dug-out firepit.

If I’m measuring the distances correctly, it’s just over 2 miles to the island, although I have to admit it felt like more. The paddling was easy, aside from the occasional boat wake. The stormy sunset was breathtaking, and paddling back with the full moon reflected on the water was a beautiful sight.

Approximately 4 miles round trip, 2080 calories burned. No alligators, no bugs. Much happiness.

I’m tired because it was 1:00 when I got home, and I normally get up at 6:00 to get ready for work. I left the kayak strapped to my car, took a quick shower, and crashed. The cat was yowling desperately for attention. She curled up next to me in bed, and I pet her for a few minutes. I fell asleep with her rubbing her cheek against my hand. When I woke up this morning, she was in the same spot with her head on my hand and her paw on my arm.

After work tonight, I couldn’t resist the temptation to go out kayaking again. I put in on Lake Virginia again and followed the same path through the canals to Lake Osceola and Lake Maitland. I circled Dog Island and tooled around both lakes for quite a bit before heading back to Virginia and taking a smaller canal to Lake Mizell.

All told, I probably covered 6 miles today in 1:45. (Remember that 3 mph is considered normal speed for a beginner. I took a little time to rest, but for the most part I was bookin’ it!) I don’t see how Fitlinxx makes that equate to 1815 calories. I’m beginning to think distance doesn’t play a factor in their mathematics, which is very frustrating.

One of the things I’d hoped to see at Haulover Canal was Rookery Island. It’s a designated rookery, meaning people aren’t allowed within a certain distance from the island. That limits stress on the birds and keeps them from abandoning their young. It also means that, as long as you stay back, you can get some excellent shots of the wildlife.

Apparently I got my directions mixed up. The island is in the Indian River Lagoon on the west side of the canal, not east as I thought. Next chance I get, I’ll be going back with my camera. This time I’ll head in the right direction. (The left direction!)

In other news, I feel like a moron for not taking a tripod on kayak trips. I thought it would be useless until Shelley and I passed a photographer on the Wekiva who had set up his tripod in the water.

Tripod! In the water! Eureka!

So I’m an idiot for never even considering that. I’ll probably buy a cheaper and lighter tripod, since I have no desire to ruin a $120 heavy-duty tripod with salt water or sediment. I’m also planning to buy a cheapish camera that I won’t mind breaking, and for once I’m going to opt for the overpriced replacement plan. I can’t imagine I’ll go a few years without dropping the thing in the water at least once, so the insurance will pay for itself.

What kind of camera I get will depend on my funds at the time. I want 10 megapixels or better. If I get a point & shoot, I’ll want at least 10x optical zoom. Ideally it’ll use compact flash cards so I won’t have to invest in more memory. I’m thinking about the D80, but at the same time I’m thinking that an all-in-one, simpler camera might be the better choice for an already encumbered kayak.

Alternate title: Black bears can climb high!

Today I met up with Shelley, whom I met through the Wilderness Trekkers message board. WT is a group that organizes hikes, kayak trips, etc. in Central Florida, and members post on the board for slightly less organized outings. Shelley is a science teacher with the summer off, so we took the opportunity to paddle the Wekiva. Shelley’s a bit younger than my mom, and she said she’s been kayaking for 9-10 years.

We put in at the Wekiva Marina of Miami Springs Road in Apopka. I prefer sandy beaches, but we both managed to enter our kayaks from the concrete boat ramp without going overboard. Shelley’s kayak is a Hobie sit-on-top model with very shallow draft and built-in stowage. I’m a little jealous of her cubbyholes, but I still like my Pamlico.

We paddled downstream until threatening storm clouds and ominous thunder made us turn around. I’d guess we went about a mile with the current before heading back. The storm seemed less immediate once we were headed south again, so we paddled up past Rock Springs Run and almost to the Wekiva Springs State Park entrance. In the shallows near the run, we came across a gaggle of people staring up into a tree. Turns out there was a black bear up near the top of the tree - much higher up than I’d have ever expected! The leaves made it tough to get a clear view, but he moved a few times and I clearly saw the outline of his head & ears. I thought it would be a cub because he’d climbed so high, but he looked full-grown.

That was quite a treat. I’ve seen black bears two other times - once in Ocala on a camping trip, and once on the side of the road heading to Mount Dora. There was a third time when I was a kid on a family vacation to Cherokee, NC. That bear was in a cage, though. Not at all the same. I keep forgetting how small they are. I think bear, and I think grizzly. You’ll never see something that big down here. Even our deer are only the size of big dogs.

After a few particularly loud peals of thunder, we decided to head back. We saw the bear again as we passed the shallows just north of Rock Springs Run, and Shelley spotted a young alligator sunning himself on a log, nearly hidden by some elephant ears. He was probably about 4 feet long - very small in comparison with some of the others I’ve seen.

Getting out was much easier than getting in. Wekiva Marina maintains a carpeted dock for their canoe rentals. Shelley got up there with minimal trouble, and I used one of the side rails to pull myself out of the kayak. That was certainly more dignified than struggling to stand up on a beach with legs gone partially numb from so much sitting.

We had a very pleasant trip. Maybe 3 miles total, just over an hour and a half. Fitlinxx says that’s 1092 calories. Now I’m off to the store. I’m making chicken & black bean quesadillas for dinner tonight.

Alternate title: In which we almost hit a manatee

I stayed in Patty’s spare bedroom Saturday night so we could head out bright & early Sunday morning. We didn’t quite make the early, but it was awful bright. I think we made it to Cape Canaveral at about 9:30. Our destination was the Haulover Canal, which runs between Mosquito Lagoon and the Indian River Lagoon. We put in and headed east through the Canal, which took us into Mosquito Lagoon.

I wasn’t prepared for just how big the lagoon is, and I was surprised at how shallow much of it seemed to be. Once we were past the main boat channel, the bottom was clearly visible less than 3 feet away. The hardest part was paddling around and through the occasional clumps of sea grass. Once we were into the flats of the eastern lagoon, we saw numerous cormorants and herons. Patty put her paddle away and brought out her camera. With patience and careful, quiet paddle strokes we were able to get quite close to some of the great blue herons. Heading back, we got within about 15 feet of several cormorants roosting on the shore of a little island.

Up to that point I was enjoying myself, but I was also a little disappointed. In the warm summer months, this is supposed to be a prime manatee and dolphin viewing area. Well, heading back through the canal I found out that all the reviews and stories were right. Just as we were passing the observation deck on the east side of Haulover Canal Bridge, I saw a large rock suddenly surface ahead of us. Of course, the “rock” was the back of a huge manatee. I had to brake hard to the left so we wouldn’t hit him at ramming speed. Instead, we came up broadside and stopped about 3 inches from him. The noise and the close encounter startled him, so he rolled and dove. His tail must have been about 3 feet across. I don’t know how big that makes the rest of him, but he looked very big from just a few inches away. We followed alongside him for a minute, but we left quickly because it was apparent we were disturbing him.

Just as we were about to take out again, we saw a dorsal fin rise up out of the water. If was about 30 feet offshore, next to a rock where two kids were fishing. At first the Jaws theme song came into my head, but when it surfaced to breathe I saw that it was a dolphin. (Maybe a porpoise. I vaguely know the difference, but I didn’t get a great look.) Patty and I stopped within a few feet of the rock to watch the dolphin swimming around. We saw just how powerful he was when he started chasing fish, leaving a deep furrow in his wake and darting in all kinds of crazy directions. When he moved further south to the other side of the canal, we decided to call it a day.

We did a lot of sitting and watching, especially when we stopped to terrorize the crabs on the east side of the lagoon. I’ll definitely go back to this spot. There’s much, much more to see. As long as the water is smooth, I could see myself spending an entire day between the two lagoons. All in all, I’d say we covered about 5.5 miles in just under 4 hours. Fitlinxx says that’s 2,236 calories burned. I’m definitely feeling it in my shoulders and abdomen today!

Alternate title: I almost went swimming

After work today I loaded up the kayak and went back to the Wekiva River. This time I put in at Katie’s Landing, and I’m still amazed by how much easier it was. Nice open beach, easy access. I barely felt any current going upstream to Highway 46. If I had realized just how close it was, I’d have gone farther. I was surprised that I hit 46 in less than half an hour, but it’s just over a mile upstream.

I didn’t note the time I put in, but I’d guess I made the whole 3 mile trip in just over an hour. I was taking my time, especially on the way back. Fitlinxx is down right now, so I’m not sure of the calorie burn. I spent a few minutes just sitting and watching the sand hill cranes & their baby. Patty and I saw them last time, and they were in the same spot. Their nest must be on that island.

Alas, there aren’t really any amusing anecdotes from this trip, though I did almost take a dive as I was getting into the kayak. I set it halfway in the water and just stepped into the water to stabilize as I was getting in, but apparently my weight was enough to push the entire back end underwater. It didn’t reach the cockpit, but when I pulled the kayak out I realized that the back half was coated with green… stuff. Clovery-looking stuff. And an inchworm.

Alternate title: Minor heart attack

Today I put in from Cameron Wight Park on SR 46. I suppose that’s still Sanford, though my guess would be that Geneva starts on the other side of the water. Essentially, I put in at the far north end of Lake Jesup, known locally for the highest concentration of alligators in any lake in the United States. I think the Everglades tops it, but then the Everglades is technically a very wide, very slow-moving river.

At any rate, I wandered vaguely northward intending to paddle to the 415 bridge where I’ve taken so many of my sunset photos. I was dissuaded from my goal by a cluster of 6 alligators. Still trying to decide whether the rather shallow water was reassuring or disturbing, I paddled past the first two with no real concern. It wasn’t until I saw the next four immediately thereafter and startled something underneath me that was large enough to make my kayak lurch in its wake that I decided to change direction.

Ten minutes and a very quick mile later, my heart slowed to about warp 6. I stopped to rest for a moment and take in some of my surroundings, and I tried to puzzle out what the large white object under a tree might be. It looked to be a little bigger than my torso, and when I got closer I realized it was a mostly black cow standing in the shade. All I could see at first was its white head. I continued paddling (through Thornhill Lake, toward Mud Lake) and saw many more cows lining the bank, most of which just placidly watched me back. One young-looking bull lowed at me threateningly and raised his tail. (I assume it was a threat though, not speaking cow, I could have misunderstood entirely. It’s possible he was complaining about hemorrhoids.)

I passed the cows with minimal fuss and saw a multitude of great blue herons, anhingas, and vultures. I spotted a juvenile bald eagle (brown, not yet having the distinctive white head) and hordes of great white egrets and American white ibis. I’m not entirely sure where I turned around. I didn’t see Geiger’s Landing, but I probably would have come upon it if I’d taken another bend in the river. I know now that if I had continued straight toward the highway I saw in the distance I’d have made a round trip back to Highway 46 rather than doubling back on myself. Considering my circuitous route, I believe I went 3.5 miles before turning around.

I passed the cows on the way back, which incited a round of even louder bellowed threats from the young bull. I startled another alligator, this one going unnoticed on the bank about 15 feet away because I was watching the cows on the other side. Once again, minor heart attack. The bull continued cursing me as I paddled speedily away. Of course, for all I know he might have been yelling, “I’ve got horribly painful intestinal cramps!”

(Why that popped into my head at the time I’ll never know. Did I mention that I spent a few hours in the sun? Oh, and I imagined him with a British accent.)

My journey back was an exercise in speed. I had long since stopped looking for the shortest route or the path of least resistance. Instead, I was searching for the path of least exposure to large, carnivorous reptiles. The distance I’d covered in about an hour, I was able to reclaim in just under 45 minutes. 1:45 isn’t bad at all for about 7 miles, but that speed took away the last of my energy and made getting the kayak out of the water and onto my car into a rather delightful experience in muscle failure. Thank goodness I got those mats - one for the roof, and one for the trunk. All I have to do is lift the front of the kayak onto the trunk, and then I can go ’round to the back and use my body weight to push it up. It glides quite smoothly, and even through my fatigue I had everything secured in 10 minutes. I’m getting better at those knots.

Driving home was amusing. Florida is renowned for its spotty rainstorms, and I passed through a prime example. I went from heavy downpour to slight drizzle to dazzlingly clear sky in less than 30 seconds. Honestly, I could see the back edge of the storm as I was just driving into the leading edge. Even more laughable is the fact that I hit three more rainy patches in the 5 miles or so that remained of my drive home. I took the kayak down in the rain, since I was drenched with sweat anyway. It actually felt very nice, with all that cool water dripping over me and soothing my aching shoulders. Mind you, the rain stopped again as soon as I was inside the garage. We are consistent in our inconsistency.

7 miles with 3/4 of it being very strenuous equals about 1300 calories. If I keep going at this rate, I’ll be downright skinny by the end of summer.

Alternate title: In Which I Look Tasty

This was my first tandem adventure in the new kayak. moth2theflame and I went looking for Katie’s Landing on the Wekiva. We missed it and wound up putting in at the Wekiva Haven Marina, which was quite awkward. The “boat ramp” was broken, uneven concrete that dropped at about a 45 degree angle. I almost fell in, and because of my performance the people who run the marina (by sitting on the porch, mostly) got out a camera and were prepared to document Patty getting dunked. They were disappointed.

We went about 3 miles upstream before we turned around. The distance isn’t exactly 3 miles, but with all of the “creative steering” and the resulting zig-zag pattern we covered 3 miles easily. We were moving fairly slowly, and I think the whole trip took about 2 hours.

We saw 3 alligators, two of which were quite large. Mostly gators are afraid of people, but the third one just moved a little off to the side as we came up to him. He watched us from the shadow of a low-hanging tree, hence the “In which I look tasty” alternate title. A rather large turtle noisily diving off of a log scared the bejeebus out of us because it happened about a minute after I lost track of that last gator.

In other news, on the way out we ran across the woman who runs the wekivaadventures.com website, and she explained where Katie’s Landing is. We were on the correct road. It’s just that all of the signs I remembered are gone, so I mistook it for someone’s house. (How I missed the brown “canoe launch only” sign inside the gate is beyond me.)

[edit: I confirmed that the black birds with red spots above their bills are American coots. Patty, you were right.]