MBCKC Paddle Reports

Econfina Creek
Saturday, November 5, 2005
by Gary Worob & Brint Adams

I just counted three times how many of us there were....13 came up three times, so I am sticking with that figure. I was too busy either chain sawing or being stupefied( the latter is getting easier with age)! There was no choice. This was the most intense, bizarre, powerful, dynamic, overwhelming and overpowering paddle I can remember. And then some!

Ask for perfect weather and just the right amount of people and a great trip leader and you get and then some. Ask for just enough trip to say....that's enough and you get it. Ask for the most amazing scenery and incredible paddling and you get it. And finally, ask for the right amount of fallen trees to cut, climb over, under and around and you certainly got it.

Just imagine paddling through a mile long tunnel with a canopy of blue sky, as the roof and walls covered in moss, limestone and river banks that jutted out and were worn smooth enough so you enjoyed playing bumper cars off the rounded edges. Imagine flying down chutes of whitewater and careening into canyons with no visible ending and no desire to ever have it end, you get it all in one big program: the upper section of Econfina Creek from Scott's bridge to Walshingham bridge.

We had two different gps readings. One said 9 miles and one of eleven miles and we were prewarned by our great guide and trip leader, Sheila Small, that we might not finish unitl dark. Think about the logistics of going 9-11 miles in a full day when it normally should only be 4 hours or so. There are no logisitics when you realize what you are up against on the greatest trip of your life. You literally beg for it to be over after log jam upon log jam, but you don't want the chutes and canyons and rapids to ever end.

Every once in a while you get to be totally by yourself, even if you are not paddling solo, to be mesmerized and captured in the emerald fores and the gateway to heaven or hell. No exaggeration on this phenomenon. It is truly an amazing experience to do once and do it right up to your limits. You will test your limits on this one, both physical and visual and spiritual.

I thought of a proposition for all canoe and kayak clubs that ever thought about or will think about doing this trip. We should all combine financial forces and "PAY SOME GROUP OF BURLY CHAIN SAW FANATICS'' to go once a year at a predesignated time to clear the whole canoe trail to the livery. This would then be the greatest paddle. It would be about 15 miles of the most powerful trip there is. The only other thought I have is for one club to reserve the Blue Spring Campground we stay at and invite chainsaw wielding paddlers to a weekend of glorious torture. This travail is not for the inexperienced paddler or lumberjack, trust me.

Don't call me for a while to go back and do it again. I will be nursing very sore chainsaw arms for a while and thinking about those glorious chutes and rapids and amazing tunnels and the aqua bluegreen tourmaline waterways of the wonderful Econfina. But next time, I want to have a camera strapped to the bow of my boat, taking movies of flying down those canyons and careening against walls and the visuals that were so amazing. Next time, I would advise a "sit-upon kayak."

by Gary



A beautiful fall weekend was in store for Roland and I, as we drove from Daphne, AL to just north of Panama City, FL early Saturday morning. A group of eleven other paddlers with various kayaks and canoes had already left to set up the shuttle vehicles and shove off while we were about an hour away. We drove straight to the put-in at Scott's bridge in an attempt to catch up with the gang.

On the way along Hwy 20, we came across various aid stations for the 112 mile bike segment of the Panama City Ironman Triathlon, which was underway. As we turned north on Hwy 231 towards Scott's bridge, we came across the frontrunning cyclistswhich was pretty exciting.

We found the water level of Econfina Creek to be pretty low, so we were glad to have our plastic boats for what we figured was going to be a shallow ride with the possibility of a few portages. Little did we know what we were about to find. At least for the first three miles, the creek was fairly clear of debris and blockages, thanks to Gary leading the first group with a chainsaw. We saw some of his handiwork and figured sooner or later we might catch up to the group.

It didn't take long until we heard the chainsaw and caught up to the gang. It turned out they started out about 20 minutes ahead of us. After paddling together for another mile, we stopped for lunch after paddling for two hours and almost four miles. Along the way, we passed through numerous narrow passages through high rock walls, with a fairly quick drop and a few minor rapids. For this far south, it was the most I have seen and was alot of fun and quite strikingly beautiful.

After lunch, we all took off together, but it didn't take long before we were stopped by the first of many treefalls blocking our passage. Gary dutifully led us through several blockages after efficiently cutting his way through with his chainsaw. But, it turned out there were just too many and Gary eventually ran out of gas, both for his saw and his body.

So, we were on our own to get over, under or around the numerous trees across our path. Towards the end, over probably the last three miles, a few of us took up the challenge to compete in an impromptu adventure creek race, to see who couldmake their way over all of the blockages and paddle the quickest to our eventual takeout at the Walsingham bridge at the boat ramp and picnic area. I especially had a contest to see if I could compete with a canoe creek specialist. It was a spirited race, which I eventually won, claiming bragging rights for kayakers over canoers.

Overall, Roland and I paddled for about five hours over the 11.2 mile course. Obviously, all of the tight turns, low water, narrow channels and fallen trees blocking our way slowed us down, but the paddle course was fantastic and one we plan to do again when the water level is a little higher.

Following vehicle retrieval, most of us retreated to the Blue Springs campground for a great potluck dinner, a campfire and well deserved rest. We scared away all of the owls that night with our extended playing of African drums and Aussie didjeridus. It was a good time for all.

by Brint