Magnolia River Paddle Report

Five people plus the leader were on the paddle. We had a lot of fun and I plan to lead this paddle again in the near future. It's very easy, there's opportunity for swimming, plus people can do as much or as little as they want. It's easy to go home early when we pass the put in spot. Boats on the Magnolia River are good about observing the no wake zone. We paddled up river and very soon came to the bridge of 49 over the river. Just beyond that is what locals call the "cold hole". It's one of the springs. Lots of power boats stop there, party, swim, etc. There are kids with adults as well as young people. We paddled further upstream and soon got to where no power boats can go. We continued upstream until we had to turn around. Couldn't go any further. On the way back we stopped at a shallow place (most of it is shallow up there), got out and played in the water. It's only about knee deep and chilly compared to Mobile Bay. There must be more than one spring. We paddled down river, past the cold hole. One woman left us at the put in. The rest of us continued down river. The river gets wider and wider. The homes are nice to look at. People are in boats or in their yards or boat docks by the water. There are kids being pulled in tubes, boats, etc. but still no wake. We turned around just before the no wake sign. The boats were picking up speed beyond that point. We returned to our put in. Across the river from it, on the opposite bank, is a sand bar. We got out there and swam. The water at the sand bar is shallow, but you soon can swim into deep water. We swam out only a little ways keeping an eye out for boats. People liked this paddle because it was relaxing, there was opportunities to get in the water or swim, and members could do all of it or leave early, etc. We didn't have a gps but may have done 4-5 miles total.

Two paddlers, Jerry and son Tom Inman put in at 9:00 am at the Public Access on the Susquehanna River in the Montoursville Recreation Area near Williamsport Pennsylvania. The Susquehanna is like many rivers with long flat stretches followed by drop of between 2-6 feet that translates into a rapid. The class of which depends on the water level. The river is low at this time of year so the drops are generally a combination of rocky shoals and islands, with a deep Vee with a few strategically placed large rocks. We headed up stream from the access and encountered the first rapid in about 500 yards. This would have to be classified as a class one, with plenty of rocks and standing waves about 1-2 feet high. Having not negotiated one of these with a kayak ever, I followed Tom’s direction, as he had been up this rapid many times before. He advised that we paddle up on the right side of the main Vee and take advantage of each eddy, moving from one to the other. The left side wasn't an option as that was where most of the water flowed, was deep and had a very swift current. I stayed just off to his left in a little deeper water so as not to break my wood paddle on a rock. This strategy was working until I strayed a little too far to the left and soon found myself in fast water right in the middle of the deep Vee I was paddling hard and thought I was still making progress until I checked the shoreline and realized I was paddling a flowing treadmill. I dug in harder and faster, then even harder, but wasn’t getting anyplace, plus I was tiring, so I knew I had to move over to the right into slower water. I was able to drop back, keep the boat straight with the current, and not hit anything, and finally ferry the boat to the right side of the rapid. Tom was now about 50 yards upstream from me working his way from eddy to eddy. Once out of the main stream I was able apply the same technique and work my way up to the flat water. From this point, the river is about a quarter to half mile wide and with a light current that made for easy paddling. There are a few homes along the South Shoreline while the North Shore is bordered trees as it is part of a recreation area. The river passes between Bald Eagle Mountain on the South and another not named to the North. We traveled up about another mile or so and saw many geese, ducks, and one deer before we turned and headed back. We likely would have spotted and heard many more birds had Bob Andrews been along. With the current now in our favor it was a quick and easy return paddle. As we approached the rapid, a sharp eye was kept for the best opening to take us all the way through. Of our choices we wanted to take the longest and deepest Vee. We hit it right and only paddled to avoid a few Volkswagen size rocks. On exit from the rapid we were only a short distance from the take out point which was reached in short order.

Bon Secour River; Wednesday March 8, 2007

Jan Temler and Jerry Inman put in on the Bon Secour River at the Aquilar Seafood Plant on East River Road just at the end of CR-10. The river flows into the Bon Secour Bay and on to Mobile Bay. Here the river is wide and marked with navigational markers and middle channel buoys to guide the fishing boats up the river. As we paddled upstream we passed two more fisheries and additional commercial fishing boats. The lower portion of the river is interspersed with grassy islands and channels typical of a river delta. As we proceeded much of the shoreline was lined with summer and year round homes. One summer place was only a screened place about 16 x 16 built out over the river on stilts, and with a boat lift. Jan took a picture of me sitting a little downstream from the place. The river looked muddy or cloudy where we put in and was that way a mile upstream, we learned this was called red or green tide caused from algae. Less than a mile upstream from our launch point we were accompanied by dolphins. First Jan saw them next to his boat and when I turned to look they were already 40 yards downstream, but then a minute later two more appeared less than 10 yards away. Jan got his camera out to take some pictures but they never reappeared, so we went on our way. As we continued upstream the river became more clear and meandered more with numerous islands. It was hard to know which way to go or to find a main channel. We went the long way a couple of times, one of which was a dead end inlet just behind The Galleyrestaurant on CR-10. Further upstream the water became clearer, and there were more and more magnolia trees. We took a lot of pictures along the way. After 4½ miles the river became very narrow and as it was getting near three-o clock, we decided to turn back toward our launch point. Both, paddling up and downstream there was an abundance of pelicans and cormorants. At one point we were entertained by Ospreys demonstrating their fishing skills. Overall the birds we saw were mallard ducks, American coot, great egret, great blue heron, loon, brown pelican, and osprey. Distance 7 miles, (we were able to take some shortcuts on the way back) moving average: 2.4 mph, and time moving 2 hr. 46 min. This was to be the last paddle with my friend Jan as we have to ready ourselves to return to Michigan. We will be seeing him next year when we return in January 2008. Submitted by: Jerry Inman, Michigan Snowbird.

Sunday February 11, 2007

I launched my kayak on the north side of Battleship Parkway into Chacaloochee Bay, a northeastern extension of Mobile Bay, along with 6 members of the Fairhope Canoe/Kayak Club, 5 singles and one tandem. The group was lead by Bob Andrews an experienced kayaker and resident delta expert. This location is just east of Mobile AL, off I-10 and a mile east of the USS Alabama Museum. It was sunny and 59 degrees and would cool down after 3 pm.

We were going to go to Little Bateau Bay and make a loop back down Conway Creek. We are in the delta of the Mobile and Tensaw Rivers the second largest river delta area in the United States. The delta is a vast area of bays, independent rivers, creeks, and drainage like ditches or canals that change depth with the Gulf Tide.

The first leg was 2 miles across Chacaloochee Bay into Big Bateau Bay. On the way we saw a variety of coastal and delta birds. As we neared the upper portion of Big Bateau Bay the waters became very shallow. The couple in the tandem kayak turned back for home as they could not float the shallow water and generally were having difficulty keeping pace. Although this bay covers an expansive area, there can be a number of very shallow sections. The lead kayaks moved back and forth to find a deeper area or channel, with no success. So we headed back to the Southwest, back into Chacaloochee Bay, around a point and entered the mouth of Conway Creek. As we rounded the point we found a dead pelican that had become snared in a fishing line, attached to a wood piling.

Conway Creek flows from the Tensaw River and has several branches. Along the way up, we passed by a small ditch like canal with called Savage Ditch (like a Michigan creek with varying depths) that was planned to use on the return. Once on Conway Creek we could no longer see any landmarks as the bank and/or tall grasses blocked the view in almost all directions. New bright green grass and Iris about 8 inches tall along the shoreline were hints of the Alabama Spring. We took two right hand branches before entering Little Bateau Bay. By now, I was pretty well turned around as everything looked the same. I had marked our launch point with my GPS so I may have found my way back if I had to. There were only a couple of places along Conway Creek where any current was encountered, the wind seemed to be more of a paddling factor. On the return down the Creek we took a break at the Savage Ditch we were going to use as a shortcut back to Chacaloochee Bay. Here we chatted and ate stale peanuts supplied by one of the paddlers. My food source, a box of trail bars purchased especially for this paddle, was back at the Condo. Bob commented that he hoped the ditch was deep enough the whole way or we would have to turn back and continue on Conway Creek. With hopes for deep water we headed single file down Savage. Fortunately it was, and we would soon see Chacaloochee Bay. At the mouth of Savage Ditch we saw an unrecognizable steel frame, two miles from the nearest road that Bob said was a tractor trailer frame deposited there by hurricane Camille in 1969. The full aluminum body was intact until most recently, when scrap aluminum prices went up and the scavengers harvested it for scrap metal.

When entering the top of the Bay we could see the tall buildings of Mobile to the right, tree covered hills to the far left, and a vague dark windowed stripe across the horizon connecting the two. We now had the wind in our faces with light chop on the Bay. It was only after paddling for a half hour that I could see little dots moving back and forth on the vague dark windowed stripe, and realized that they were cars on the I-10 causeway. With the head wind and distance I thought I would move up close to Bob's stern so as to make it a little easier to paddle. Well that didn't happen, and I can only describe the last 2 miles back to the launch site as "one long ass paddle". The birds today were Great Blue Huron, Great Egret, Cormorant, Sandpipers, Long-billed Curlew, American Coot, Myrtle Warbler, Pelican, Red Tailed Hawk, and White Ibis. The GPS trip data: distance, 11.5 miles, max Sp. 5.8 mph, moving avg. 3.5 mph and time moving 3hrs. & 16 minutes.

Jason Smith has provided some more paddling reports from the local area and the broader state of Alabama, including Perdido, Big Escambia Creek, and the Sepulga. Check them out on his website at:

http://alabamafloatfishing.blogspot.com/

Boatyard Lake and Pinelog Creek October 31, 2006
by Bruce Zimmerman

To get there from Spanish Fort, drive north on Alabama highway 225 then highway 59 north past the town of Tensaw to Montgomery Hill. Turn left on highway 80 and drive towards Ft. Mimms County Park.

The put in at Boathouse landing is a commercial ramp with both hard ramps and soft shoulder ( gravel and sand) put ins on Boatyard Lake near Ft. Mimms county park in Baldwin County. The ramp owner charges $4.00 to launch. Sanitary facilities with flush plumbing are behind the store in a separate building.

The Lake is a banana shaped body of water that starts up near Holley Creek to the north. The lake extends southward bending towards the south west and then west. Dry ground surrounds the lake with mature hardwoods all around.

Heading south on the lake, Laraway and I paddled easily listening for bird calls and boat traffic. Up ahead on the left bank we spotted a house boat tied to shore. We cut left through an opening and found ourselves in Pinelog Creek. The water quality changed abruptly from gray-green turbid water to clear deep water.

Pinelog Creek was wide near the mouth. Higher ground than we saw from the lake rises away from shore. The understory is sparse so the view into the forest was pretty good. I used a topo map, Tensaw Quadrangle, to keep track of our location in the river by turns and compass heading. The creek gradually narrowed down to 20 feet or so as it split around islands. The land looks uninhabited, but signs on the trees warn No Trespassing, no hunting, no fun. Shiny beer cans dot the bank and shoreline until you get to The Swamp.

We followed the creek until we were heading due north and the banks became less well defined. We slid to a stop in amongst some cypress knees and had lunch afloat.

After lunch we cut through the trees to the east to find the creek again. About this time we saw the only pines on Pinelog Creek and these were young, about 6 feet tall, at the crest of a ridge on the right. Laraway took the lead into The Swamp because he really likes that kind of exploring. We just followed the current into the swamp because the map was pretty useless once we left the bank of the creek. We continued upstream to the first deadfall across our path. The water was rather shallow on our side and it looked more shallow on the other side of the deadfall so we did a lot of back and fill maneuvers to turn around and try to find our way out. I'm pretty sure we did not leave The Swamp the same way we came in; what fun is that?

We left the creek behind and returned to the lake. The topo map showed some waterways entering the map, but they may have filled in with forest. Way down near the end of the lake, the map shows a significant waterway, a cut through, that heads down to Pierce Landing, but this way was blocked at the first turn with two substantial logs. The water beyond the deadfall seemed stagnant and uninviting.

We returned to the lake and paddled against a little current for a while and dodged two motorboats. The paddle back to the take out sure seemed to take a long time. As the day was getting late, we left exploring north of the landing for another day.

A Paddle to the Big Tree
October 10, 2006

Frank Laraway has wanted to see the big cypress tree for some years. So we watched the weather and the calendar for an opening and we went. I looked in the club archives for some information about the cypress and I found the directions I needed from Gary and Tom's paddle of March 5, 2005.

We planned a late start, 11 a.m. just because Frank had stuff to do. We launched at Rice Creek Landing about 12:15 p.m. The water was low. The wind was calm. The air was getting warm, into the 80's. Some things I noticed were exposed bases of long gone cypresses that made jagged islands about 10 feet in diameter. We heard few birds and no insect sounds. And best of all we heard very few motorboats all day.

As we crossed Briars Lake, we saw a wire cage style trap, half exposed with something in it. We headed into the passage to the river against a light current. The water was clear enough to see the length of a paddle blade easily. The water color was light gray-green, not the usual brown. Ageratum is blooming. Cardinal flower and white asters also peek out of the swamp, but not very many plants.

We headed downriver beside Larry Island, noting exposed river bank, which Frank was examining for shell middens. We reached the end of Larry Island and looked across the Tensaw River for the entrance to Jessamine Bayou. It is a straight line approach, just adjust your track for the current coming across from right to left in the Tensaw River.

In Jessamine Bayou, guess what? More current! We paddled against the flow and went around snags and stobs as we looked for the big 5 painted on a tree that the paddle report indicated was the mark for the trail to the big cypress. Because Tom had made mention at the kayak meeting he chaired, we took a magnetic compass and a topo map into the woods on this trip.

We found a big blue 5 on a tree and we tied up to some roots on the left bank and we had a snack before disembarking. It may be our last meal. The bank looks less steep today than 2 years ago when I paddled here last. Stepping out onto roots and sticks helped give a lot of traction, even when they break. On top we followed a path that had been bush hogged parallel to the water. The path curved south almost inline with the trail to the big cypress. We followed surveyor's tape flagging tied to trees. From the tree with the big 5, I took a compass bearing on the first two flags and used that to bridge the gap where some trees have fallen leaving a gap in the blazed trail. The mosquitos were pretty bad, and some of the vines we tripped over were poison ivy, but we made our way south-southwest through a patch of wild rice into an area that had almost no undergrowth, just trees including the big cypress.

Check that off the list of things to do.

The return trip to the water was challenging because the blaze marks are hidden by the trees. We had the compass to give us a reciprocal heading, and we looked behind us for the marks we followed into the forest. Once in a while we spotted a tree or bush we had stood by so we felt confident we had the right track. Perhaps taking some surveyor's tape along to retag trees would be a good idea.

We made a quick visit to Jug Lake so Frank could see the floating platform for the first time. The current out of Jug Lake wasn't so bad; I just hoped the lake would not get much lower before we left. The water depth had us scuffing bottom near the exit of the lake. We were a bit late to include this extra tasking to our trip so we had to put on some speed to get back to the take out before dark. We passed the wire trap in the cut through to Briar's Lake. With a lower water level now, the trap was exposed and the thing inside was a decomposed alligator.

In Rice Creek on our return, I noticed a doll's head ornamenting a cypress knee. Have you seen it?

Verde River Trip Report
courtesy of: Gary Worob

THE VERDE RIVER: FIRST TIME

Imagine yourself in a valley that once was surrounded by wooly mammoths and saber toothed tigers and ancients no longer known on this planet. Then imagine all of that disappearing before you and replaced by a peaceful society that farmed and spent days by the river making arrowheads and spear tips and hatchets from the abundance of natural raw materials. Then see the end of that civilization through the remaining cliff dwellings once around every turn. Now view the high banks and cliffs with a new appreciation as every turn is a historical monument and each bank and cliff contains ancient artifacts and legends. This is the Verde Valley and we are in Cottonwood, Arizona only minutes from now infamous Sedona and the red rocks, but a light year from civilization.

It was an incredibly beautiful day, mid 70’s and of course no humidity, something that has become a blessing after 7 years in the South and not having to think about allergy or sinus medicine here. There are 8 of us, my brother and three of his four children ages 10 to 23 and 4 of us who don’t talk about age anymore. Of the 4 vessels my Wenonah sandpiper is the ranking vessel and certainly the Kevlar 16 foot solo canoe is misplaced and soon enough a huge mistake on this trip.

We put in at Tuzekoot National Monument Park, an easy enough launch with a short carry down to the banks of what looked like an easy enough adventure until the very first turn and one of many, very many portages, drag throughs and overages and round abouts and cliffs and waterfalls and vast number of chutes to experience without a clue of the next turn. It was great.

In a minute I was staring down the throat of a class 4 rapids, short but luring and looking at alternatives and not wanting any part of chickening out. This was a must do as it may not have a mate to match and what the heck, we were there for a good time, not a long time, so I thought.

I braced for the onslaught and was catapulted through and spit out onto flat water in seconds but loved every second of it and wanted to do it all day. It was great. Then everyone followed, screaming and laughing all the way through. We wanted more, lots more. We got what we asked for. Almost immediately we ran into lots of chutes and areas where we hadn’t a clue what to expect. Worst feeling of all was water totally backing up and sounds of waterfalls and not knowing anything upcoming. Only Oland had paddled this before in the spring with his son in an inflatable kayak and said it was an easy paddle. NO PROBLEMO! WRONG!

We hit places where there was no visible exit and dragged boats over and around lots of growth and undergrowth and found chutes appearing where waters had seeped through what looked like myriads of beaver damns but were more likely the results of monsoons flooding the valley and leaving lots of debris. Once we came out of a maze and the water turned into a class 3 series of chutes that careened around bends like hair pin turns on a bumper car or go kart track. These were great and fast and no time for anything but full speed ahead and who cared what was next. I usually went first and tried to holler back the results but the chutes were fairly long in places and I doubt that anyone heard me. They were too busy holding on, two big barges and one too long Kevlar cruiser.

At one point we came upon what looked like a recent bulldozed damn that ticked us off as it was rude looking and obtrusive and we portaged everything and cursed the bulldozer that unnaturalized what should have been a neat rapids. Then way more chutes and some signs of civilization but we were pretty oblivious. My youngest nephew was obviously excited by the whole ordeal as he devoured a whole bag of chips…big bag. And then the coup de gras.

I had moved back to see how the Kevlar was doing and came around a bend to just in time to smash into a tree downed across the river and started to get out when the Kevlar came sideways too fast to avoid an upset and flipped upstream, pinning the canoe exactly between both banks and filling up too fast to be able to pull it out before the big sound hit. I was yanking and prying as hard as I could but the current had it trapped and then it bent right before me and gave in. I managed to pull it out then but the damage was done and it looked like the Kevlar racing canoes I used to see in the north, only the two bulges, one on each side were amidships and not desirably located. So much for this brand new misplaced vessel. The metal gunwales were defiant as I tried to reform the boat and evaluated that it was not going back into any former shape with them on, and fortunately there was only one 5 inch crack that was not leaking. The boat was paddle able but not new anymore. It did take all my effort to keep it tracking and the faster I paddled the worst it got.

Well, the crew, when we caught up was alarmed and relieved as we were quite a ways from them and not at all looking like we were pleased. But, we were okay and continued more chutes and more amazing scenery and paddled to the main bridge and happily shuttled the vehicles back and then most went to George’s great Greek restaurant for a wonderful dinner of spanakopita and gyro’s and Greek salads and smiles all the way around.

One piece of advise: don’t do this trip.

My brother did, however, say after that it was the most he had laughed in a long time and actually we all laughed a lot. Rivers can do that to you.

TRIP FACTS:

Put in: Tuzekoot Nat’l Monument =easy carry to the river, maybe 200 yards

Water flow: varied but not much more than 70 cfm with water at about 64 degrees

Degree of difficulty: not for beginners at this time of year; varied from Class 1 to 3 but with lots of carries/portages and wrestling

Take out: rt. 89a bridge=easy

Total paddle: about 4 hours without lunch break and plenty others, and about 5 miles?

Magnolia River II (attempt 2)

September 3, 2006.  Leader:  Nancy Ward.  The weather co-operated this time.  A
few sprinkles at the meeting spot that cleared up right away.  Wonderful weather
the rest of the paddle.  Six people showed up in addition to myself.  It's
important to have beginner friendly paddles.  People showed up who I've never
seen at meetings or other paddles.  Experienced paddlers can still enjoy
themselves on an easy paddle.  We launched from Rock Street put-in with the
intension of going downstream this trip, visiting the salt marshes, and making
it to Weeks Bay.  That's all  beautiful areas.  We soon discovered the
powerboaters were out in force, holiday weekend and all.  We soon split into two
groups.  Jane took her 9th grade daughter, Lily, and Lily's classmate,McKenzie,
upstream---beyond where the powerboaters could go and where they could swim.  I
would not have encouraged this except Jane is an excellent, experienced paddler.
She and her brother Mickey paddle often on their own.  Gail and Mary, who are
sort of beginners, decided to join them.  Mickey and I continued with the
original plan.  I promise that in future I will seldom abandon my group.
Circumstances this time made it seem O.K.  I really wanted to explore the down
stream area and Mickey had specifically come on the paddle for that reason.  He
checked out future fishing spots as we enjoyed the views.  In many stretches
there are no homes.  The homes we did see were interesting.  Lots of folks were
out having picnics.  We passed an area that is either the last house in Magnolia
Springs or a park.  There was a hugh picnic going on there.  Power boaters
coming one after the other caused wakes but we handled them.  We saw a small
gator in a cutoff.  We saw a juvenile blue heron plus a couple other herons we
couldn't identify.  Mickey saw some other kind of marsh hen he couldn't
identify.  I was surprised at the number of pelicans and gulls sitting near each
other on a set of pilings.  Not only were they together they let me get very
close then sat for several minutes before flying away.  Mickey and I went into
Weeks Bay and paddled to just even with the channel buoys before returning.  A
couple of the others phoned me afterwards and said they had a good time.  

Danny has posted an excellent trip report with pictures from the Oak Bayou/Chuckfee Bay paddle (along with some other great trip reports!) on his website.

http://www.tensawdrifter.blogspot.com

here is the southwest trip report:

Watson Lake and the Prescott Paddling Club>>>>>

Several days after i landed here and unloaded way too much stuff i had to do a water thing.....strange to say in the high desert but there are four beautiful small lakes close by and my all time favorite has this wonderful feeling about it.....it is all boulders and islands of boulders and i have been back several times to be awed by the lack of sand and the abundance of hard as hell dunes of stone.

Last Saturday the club organized a trip and included many "seniors" who had the opportunity to paddle on a perfect day with the rental kayaks and canoes that are in abundance ....or were until 70 people showed up to rent and get the thrill of being on the water there. the lake is lower than usual because they are putting in a new boat ramp for me....ha.....little do they know i will practically live there. My brother and two nephews and i rigged my boat the Sunday after the first canoe paddle and sailed around this lake chasing small sailboats as we had to tack quite often or run into the boulders...it was great fun.

i am tearing my place apart and rebuilding...already put in new floors and now ordering countertop to be made out of alligator juniper, can't get away from the alligators or the juniper. it is quite an amazing wood and will make my new kitchen island beautiful. in two weeks i head for british columbia and sailing and fishing in the inside passage.

hope you are all staying cool and doing well....

in the fall several of us plan to paddle and camp on the verde river near here....will let you know how mbcakc west is doing

gary worob...canoeman....

I've attached a couple pictures of the trip to McVoy Lake (previously mis-identified as McVeigh Lake). It was a great trip, with a lot of folks showing up for their first trip with the club. We couldn't have asked for better weather (maybe a little windy) when we arrived. We paddled as far up McVoy Lake before we were stopped by weed and log choked waters. On the return trip, we paddled some of the side streams. Snakes and turtles were spotted, and many gathered at Ed's Seafood Shack to look for gators (none seen) and swap tall tales.

(lunch break)

(trip leader and website guy)

(where's Gary?)

(pretty flowers)

Boiling Creek and Little Boiling Creek
March 25, 2006
by Gary Worob

A SPECIAL PLACE

Boiling Creek has always been a special place to me as well as almost everyone who has ever been there, but Saturday was even more exceptional. I purposely canceled for the first time, as far as i can remember, the camping/paddling trip with other activities when i saw the weather forecast for freezing and near freezing weather. Who wants to camp in Florida at the end of March and freeze, not this old bird.

Anyhow, Harriet led the charge, triumphantly, to carry the flag to one of the greatest paddles i ever experienced. I decided at the last minute to go and shuttled with Ian and there were eight of us who were treated to a wonderful experience. We decided to honor Brint for the extra hard work he did in clearing the trail on Little Boiling Creek and did a quick shuttle to the "lunch spot" right before Yellow River. We then carried boats across the road to the upper section and paddled up into an area that none of us ever were in before. It was like a scene from the original Tarzan movies, really deep crystal clear water with submerged logs and huge fish. We were all amazed at the serenity and beauty there and went much farther than i thought it would go, weaving in and around the many stumps and branches but awed by the depth and clarity of the water.

We had a real treat on the way downriver as we got to run the chute under the road and scream through the tunnel. Then we went on the Brint Trail and wove our way through the many narrow channels and laughed as we had to get out several times in the pristine water to drag boats around and over and through different scenes. At one point Harriet pointed out this huge snapping turtle and it was amazing to watch it make choices in directions with our boats around and then disappear. Brint had done a wonerful job of clearing and we could easily see all the hard work he put into the underwater trail and then we came to the open water, or so we thought only to be surprised at two downed pine trees that i think were beaver cuts, nothing else made sense. But Brint dispatched them with his hand saw and we were once more on our way to Boiling Creek and lunch.

The pitcher plants were in bloom and they were as beautiful and welcomed as ever. We stopped at the wooden bridge for lunch and then went downstream and were treated to a rare site. There were 5 cottonmouths sunning themselves all in a ball on a dead fall across the river. Fritz and I, with appropriate caution, got close and took pictures of the lazy group and you almost, but hardly, could feel sorry for the frozen critters, trying to warm up after a real freezing night. I won't look forward to ever seeing them again. We saw more large birds than I have ever seen on Boiling Creek and we experienced more of the area than ever before.

What could have been a disaster turned into a group effort as we had to push Brint's and Fritz's vehicles out of sand bogs. The grader guy had turned the road into a disaster while we were paddling, making it extremely hard to drive on the road to the lunch spot. I don't reccommend going there without scouting and definetely not alone. It was fun having all of us push and work together to help each other. It reminded me of why I never want to live in the snow belt again, not to ever push another stuck in the snow vehicle again without tons of friends.

So, thanks to Brint and Harriet for the absolutely wonderful day a day dedicated to the great efforts of Brint to make this club and the paddles more than wonderful.I don't recommend the Little Boiling Creek trip to anyone who is not prepared to drag and walk their boats. If you are looking for a lazy day paddle, this is not it. It took a good part of the day for this trip and was worth every minute, but not for long boats and fragile limbs.

Ingram's Bayou
February 17, 2006
by Tina Murphy

As you will recall, this weekday trip was planned in an effort to see Ingram’s Bayou in its pristine state, to look for wintering snowbirds of the avian variety, and to hopefully see mother/baby dolphins. Here is how the trip played out.

Friday morning started off cloudy and gray as we milled around the Exxon Station in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in southern Alabama. In the short time it took to drive from the Exxon to the put-in, Bob Andrews (the trip leader), must have been doing some heavy-duty praying. Like Noah parting the Red Sea, God parted the clouds and let the sun shine about the time we reached the put-in. God usually smiles on Bob’s trips, it seems. Ingram’s Bayou was still pristine – most of the downed trees we saw were due to natural causes – namely, hurricanes. While searching the waterway for dolphins, we came upon a pair of wintering snowbirds onboard a trawler named “Ballou.” They hailed from the northern latitudes of our country (Wisconsin) and were passing a good time in the Florida waters, living aboard their Ballou of a Boat. As if Florida was not paradise enough for one wintering season, they were heading out soon to the Bahamas and then Quebec. The captain assured us he had two very large paddles aboard to put his house-sized boat in motion. Sure! His first mate told us she saw the dolphins recently in the bayou. But apparently, like George Bush’s administration, we have a leak in our organization, for someone let the word out that a contingent of the Mobile Bay Canoe & Kayak Club, along with the West Florida Canoe and Kayak Club were sending 19 of their best paddlers to search for small cetaceans (Bottlenose Dolphins.) And what would a momma dolphin do in that situation? Like any other mammal momma – they skoodaddled.

Meanwhile, the sun was still shining and the temperature hovered at 70 degrees. Not bad for the middle of February. And we paddled on… Joan Grey swept across the water in a “real” kayak (we like her Keowee too); Susan Sasser, practiced refining her paddling technique in her new fashionable lime-green (this year’s hottest color) Necky Zoar Sport LV along with her mother, Sue Sasser, who got did a great job of playing caboose. Sandra and Oren Castille set the upper limit of paddling style with their fancy beaded seats they found in the automotive section of the Nameless Big Box Store. Thanks goes to Nancy Burner who was home babysitting her and Larry’s grandson, Rhen. Larry (granddad) was able to bring along their daughter, Kerry Burner & her husband, Kenny Reeves. Next time maybe Rhen can join us with a toddler-sized paddle and his pint size love of the water.

We gladly welcomed new West Florida members Margaret Haynes (Pensacola) and Mickie Fox (Lillian, AL) along with their friend, Candee Abercrombie to the sport of kayaking. And we were happy to meet Tony, a former Alabamian and a new member of the Mobile Club. He has just retired and moved permanently to Fairhope, AL from somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Ohio – one of those snow-covered states in the northern reaches of our continent. Welcome back to the Great South, Tony. Another snowbird, Adrian Denhaan, a retired engineer from the Deerborn, Michigan, Ford Motor Company, left his kayaks back home to hibernate in the snow and brought his Boston Whaler to the condo for the winter. We bet he brings the yaks and the Whaler next trip.

As most of you have heard, our dear friend Susan Guttman has returned to the hallowed halls of law and is making her contribution to society as a full-time public defender. We have missed her greatly on these weekday paddles. So to ease the pain, she sent her personal representatives and neighbors, Dave & Lindy Kirkpatrick. Dave performed a valuable service by staking out and valiantly guarding the only beach available for a lunch spot. On behalf of the 19 hungry paddlers, we grant Dave the Community Service Award for Hunger Prevention. Susan will be proud!

While we are handing out awards, we must give one to Sara Williamson, who maintained her honor and dignity through sheer grit and willpower. You see, Bob Williamson, stripped down to his shorts at the put-in and treated all the women to some of the sexiest male legs that this club has ever seen. How Sara can control her desire in the midst of this display, we will never know.

Pulling into the take-out, as if on cue, God closed the heavens and let the clouds connect, blocking out the sun. But Bob had asked for one more favor – and the rains held.

Though we did not see dolphins, Bob had already made each person a winner when he handed out the new issue of Southern Tide and Trail magazine to all participants, as we arrived that morning.

Upon bidding our good-byes and farewells, we wished Sandra & Oren a safe trip as they set off to join Frances Stone in her Step-Up Florida Mission in Marianna. Oren promised to help George Russell stock up on a year’s supply of Chipola River Miracle Mud while they paddle the Chipola on Saturday.

Good trip and many thanks to Bob Andrews for a great Friday in the South.

Red Maple Slough
February 19, 2006
by Brint Adams

The shortest and most direct route to Red Maple Slough is to start on the north side of the Causeway at the old Riverdocs launch located 100 meters west of Ed's Seafood Shed. On this blustery afternoon, we had four singles and two tandems launch at around 1:30 PM into a northerly 10 knot wind with a rising tide. With the north wind blowing for the last couple of days, Chacaloochee Bay was lower than normal. We had to skirt around to the west to try and avoid shallow water before entering Conway Creek about one mile north.

There were large flocks of seagulls, great egrets and a few cormorants standing around on the open mud flats along the way. After a short distance on Conway, we took the first right fork into Big Bateau Bay and continued north. We had to stay way out in to middle to again avoid the shallows. Once we reached the north shore and after paddling by an old runabout hull blown up in the woods from a recent hurricane, we entered a narrow channel up in the northeast corner.

The main channel turns west and connects back to Conway Creek, but only a short distance in, we took the first right fork and paddled into Red Maple Slough. It snakes around many sharp turns and eventually ends up in the woods, normally with an abundance of Red Maples. We were shocked to see the storm surge devastation Katrina layed on the area and in particular, the Red Maples. There were dozens of trees blown over, with debris still clinging high in the branches. So, we ended up disappointed to find few standing trees and fewer yet fully budded out.

On the way back out, we stopped along the channel, near where the boat had settled in the woods, to get out, stretch our legs and investigate. The boat turned out to be an abandoned relic that no one would have missed and with nothing of value. So, we jumped back in our boats and upon reaching the mouth, made the turn right on the connector to Conway Creek.

Conway had plenty of water, so it was more pleasant paddling back on it rather than returning down Big Bateau Bay. We passed up the entrance to Savage's Ditch, deciding to wait until later in the spring to venture in it, once the flowers start to bloom and the gators come out to sun. Once back into Chacaloochee Bay, the group again skirted around to the west. With a few more hours of rising tide, it was much easier to paddle back to the launch area.

The total distance traveled was 8.7 miles, which took us 2:35 of paddling time.

Boiling Creek & Little Boiling Creek
Saturday, February 4, 2006
by Gary Worob


A FALLING OUT

I had a falling out yesterday...it was pretty dramatic...at least in my mind. It is the first time in probably 30 years that this happened, which made it all the more dramatic for me....and I love drama.

I had paddled the lower part of Boiling Creek to the Yellow River and then to the Hwy 98 take out, with a group that was mostly new to me. We were a gathering of 4 different tribes: the Mobile group-four of us, the Emerald Coast Kayak Club, sort of, the Adventure Club and the West Florida Canoe Club. But really, we were not from any club and that was part of the discussion and realization of the day. We were paddlers on one of the most beautiful bodies of water in the USA, Boiling Creek.

Fortunately, the road before and after the wooden bridge put-in was beautifully graded. The giant sink hole that spanned the road after the bridge, was gone. I decided our group would join the rest and paddle downstream. No one in our group had ever seen Boiling Creek, and it was a perfect day to go. It was a great paddle and fun to watch Cindy and Charmagne take their first tour of such a wonderful place, and they professed a great desire to return. Everyone who paddles Boiling Creek wants to return.

Anyhow, we covered the distance including lunch too fast for me. The current was so fast, after the heavy rains, that even with exploring, we were done by about 1:00 PM. That was too fast and when we shuttled back to our vehicles, I saw Brint's car and knew immediately where he was and I was going on a second trip.

I raced up to Little Boiling Creek and drove down the 6 tenths of a mile on a new road to me. I bounced over large tree roots and hairpin turns and then heard Brint calling my name. I knew we were in for an adventure. We were explorers on a first time journey. Brint was busy sawing his way upstream. He was literally weaving a new trail through this gorgeous series of channels and undergrowth. I raced to a wonderful landing and paddled the boat upstream at full pace.

I caught up to Brint about a quarter mile upstream after seeing his trail and followed it. There were always lots of choices, as the creek splits up in many places and it goes from very shallow drag and paddle, to clear open waterway in seconds. Brint was busy working and clearing just enough scub to make a channel for one boat at a time, good conservation technique and not harmful to the eco-system. I forged ahead and realized that in some places, it was easier to just get out and walk. I pretended I was the first explorer to ever visit this area. And, in fact, it was a first for me. One of two for me.

I soon made it to within a couple turns of the road and large culvert. We had planned to go through and then up into the mouth of Little Boiling Creek and see if there was a huge beaver dam ahead.

I never made it. One minute, I was paddling hard upstream, weaving in and out of trees and grassy islands, and the next minute I was in the water looking up and wondering how I got there. I was totally submerged under my canoe. I flipped out of the boat by something under the water that I did not see into the deepest channel. It was instantaneous. I came up and starting laughing. I had been skunked, as it was the first time that I can remember in, I don't know how many years, and it was too funny, for awhile.

The water was very warm and swimmable temperature. But, I was dressed warm and now I was dressed in soggy wet clothes. Brint caught up and saw me standing there dripping. I said my choice was to drag the boat out and walk the short distance to my van and change. He went on ahead and finished clearing and made it to our new put-in sight. It will now be a wonderful downriver adventure paddle, thanks to Brint. We loaded both boats and headed to his vehicle, quite content that two pioneers had explored new territory. It was great. I can't wait to try it out.

So, that was my falling out, and I loved it.

Lake Guntersville State Park, Guntersville, AL
January 21,22, 2006
by Norman Clapp

During the weekend of January 21 and 22, 2006, we had a joint Tennessee Valley Canoe Club and Mobile Bay Canoe and Kayak Club trip to Guntersville, Alabama to paddle and view eagles. The Guntersville area has eagles that come from Canada to winter.

We had a wonderful weekend and were really blessed with good weather, in spite of the “Official Weather Forecasts”, which were predicting rain, showers, thunderstorms and windy conditions. Actual conditions were temperatures in the high 50’s – low 60’s, winds mostly light and variable, and a brief very light misty drizzle on Sunday morning and cloudy skies.

On Saturday, we paddled from the cabins at Lake Guntersville State Park, up Short Creek. At our lunch stop, we had a view of an eagle sitting in the nest across the creek. He (or she) stayed there the entire time we had lunch. What a treat! We saw a couple of other eagles on Saturday and then on Sunday, we saw three immature eagles during our paddle on Town Creek. This is a nice area to paddle.

On Saturday, we had 19 boats, 21 people and one dog. On Sunday, we had 11 boats, 13 people and one dog on the trip. We had paddlers from Chattanooga, Gadsden, Huntsville, Mobile, Milton FL, Panama City, Atlanta and Blairsville, GA. Thanks to Bob Andrews from Mobile for leading the trip and we appreciate Lois and Jack being in our official sweep boat.

Some paddlers camped, some day tripped and some stayed in cabins. We had a great group of paddlers, which always makes for a fun trip.

Bayfront Park, Daphne to Fort Morgan
October 23, 2000
by Bruce Zimmerman

Larry Mickelson, Jr. led a full day trip from Daphne Bayfront Park to Fort Morgan. Five paddlers showed up at 0600 to make the trip. Yes, it was dark when we were unloading boats from cars and stowing gear in the boats. One of the Daphne police stopped by on his rounds and recognized Larry,Jr from his restaurant. Having the police keep an eye on your vehicle while you are out messing around in boats makes for one less thing to worry about.

We slipped into the water at 6:50, with a nice pink sunrise coloring the clouds over the eastern shore. A flock of skimmers buzzed us once. We set course to 179 degrees, by Mike Predmore's GPS, for Point Clear. The wind was light and from our left on this leg. The air was hazy, so we did not see alot of detail on shore, half a mile to a mile on our left. We just paddled and visited, to make the miles roll by. A light sea built up by mid morning, which kept everyone's left arm wet. Wet elbows were the general rule of the day. We passed Fairhope pier at about 9 AM, and crossed some open water to Point Clear, where we landed for lunch at 10:10.

Mr. Watson spotted us on the beach and came down to visit. He asked first, "Are you going to Fort Morgan?" He is one of our members on the e-mail list, and he was aware of our plans this day. He looked over our boats, which included two homebuilt 17 foot Chesapeake wood boats, a 12 foot Necky Santa Cruz, an18 foot Necky Arluk III, and a 16 foot Perception Vizcaya. The home built boats looked really sharp with wooden decks and epoxy/fiberglass-coated wood bottoms and sides.

We left the Grand Hotel at 11:45 for Mullet Point Park, on a course of 172 degrees. As we passed two guys fishing by the hotel, one of them asked, "Where are you going?" Larry, Sr. told them, "Fort Morgan". I don't think they believed him. This was a short run to Mullet Point, which was near the halfway mark of the trip. South of the Grand Hotel, the shoreline looks fully developed. Piers and boathouses jut out into the bay at each lot.

At Mullet Point, Mrs. Ruth Mickelson met us with refreshments. Mullet Point does not have a sand beach. It is reinforced shoreline made of rocks and cement blocks. We landed on the cement ramp, and we had a break. The day was warming up to near 80 degrees, from the 60 degrees we had at dawn. A steady wind from the east kept us comfortable, but the seas remained 1-2 feet the rest of the day, coming from our left. As we put into the water, a small gull paddled over toward us. First, Larry, Sr. tried to see how close he could get to the bird. Then Mike took up the chase and caught the bird with both hands! That bird was defective to somehow just let us catch it. It looked normal and undamaged, but stupid.

As we left Mullet Point to turn for Fort Morgan, on a course of 208 degrees, everyone was wearing a spray skirt. We were planning on getting wet on this crossing. Our destination was 12.4 miles away. Sunset was in a little more than 5 hours. We were in good shape to make the distance, as we headed towards a hazy featureless horizon.

Wearing a spray skirt is a funny thing. The function is to keep the ocean out of your boat. Unfortunately, it also keeps humidity in. Sweat trickles down and moisture condenses on the underside of the skirt and drips on you. And what do you do when you need to scratch an itch?

This leg of the trip had little to tell about. Seabirds, especially pelicans, were our main companions. We saw a few insects fly past, dragonflys and Monarch butterflies. When we lost sight of land, we steered by compass and guessed at correcting for set and drift. When we saw the oil rigs, then we had something to gauge our progress. Eventually, we settled on a crab angle of 190 degrees, to keep us upwind of our destination. As we closed on the land, the seas were less choppy, but the current leaving the mouth of Mobile Bay was more of an effect on us.

As the sun set into the thick haze over Dauphin Island, we could identify the ferry landing at Fort Morgan Park. We were watching the beach, looking for Steve Delker and a boat trailer. We headed towards three flashlights, blinking on the beach. We had arrived 11 hours and 40 minutes after leaving Daphne, 24 miles ago.

Bayous Tallapoosa & Jessamine loop
Sunday, January 15, 2006
by Brint Adams

Saturday's wind died down and left us with very calm water for a beautiful, but very different paddle for the fortunate five who came out this morning. The temperature was around 48-55 degrees throughout the day, with a mostly overcast sky. Our group gathered at the Stagecoach Inn in Stockton, AL and drove the short distance north to Baldwin County's Rice Creek Landing.

When we arrived, the expected low water level was even lower than we had imagined, with barely enough water trickling by to let us drag along the bottom, until we got about 20 meters away. Rice Creek was very eery, as it seemed like we were almost below ground, seeing cypress trees and knees uncovered, exposing huge trunks usually underwater. There was even a sand bar exposed out at the mouth of Rice Creek, which we dragged across for the first time.

We turned north up Briar Lake, passing several fish and hunting camps, some on land, some floating and some sitting on the exposed muddy shoreline. A couple of us spotted a buck squatted on the shore, his head laying off to the side, appearing to be dead. As we approached to get a closer look, he bolted up and away through the palmetto. We continued paddling north on the much wider Tensaw Lake, until we reached the mouth of Bayou Tallapoosa. It is located only about 1/2 mile south of the two covered platforms hidden behind Dead Lake Island.

The water level was low into Tallapoosa and we didn't figure we would get very far. So, we decided to go in and come back out to the platforms for lunch. To our surprise, and although we had to do alot of weaving and manuevering around, we never came upon a fall we could not paddle over or around. There were some tight spots, but none requiring us to exit our boats.

So, we continued slowly up Tallapoosa the whole distance of about three miles until we reached the Tensaw River on the other side. Along the way, we saw many signs of deer, beaver, hogs and even watched a pair of otters scamper playfully along the bank and down into the water. At the Tensaw River, we decided to stop for lunch at a large 3-story camp, sitting around their empty fire pit.

We continued paddling down Tensaw River to make the loop, rather than retrace our paddle on Tallapoosa. So, off we went downstream with about a 1.5 mph push, making good time at about 6 mph for the next four miles. We passed the entrance to Middle River and the primitive public campground on the way to Bottle Creek. After a short distance down Bottle, we turned east into Bayou Jessamine. It was similarly very low and slow going as we dodged around all of the many exposed falls. We finally came across our one and only log of the whole trip, we had to stop and drag our boats over. It was about halfway down to the Jug Lake split, which we decided to pass this time, since we were about 12 miles into the paddle so far.

The rest of the way was uneventful out Jessamine, back up Tensaw along Larry Island, and through the cut to Briar Lake and Rice Creek. Our total trip was 15 miles, taking about 4 1/2 hours paddling time. All of us were sufficiently worn out and glad we had a chance to see the delta from a different "down under" perspective.

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