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George and I paddled a total of 103 miles
on this 4 1/2 day trip down most of the length of the Apalachicola.
It had been our intention to poke into the lesser known streams,
sloughs, bayous and swamps along the Apalachicola and explore
the most promising ones in detail. We did that for the most part
although there were a number of inaccessible places that might
be worth trying sometime in the future when water levels are
higher. This is a partial trip report because my short term memory
is going. George might have some details to add.
Because there is little of interest along the first 7 or 8 miles
nearest the dam and because the delta area encompassed by the
Wildlife and Environmental Area trails system is well known to
us, we decided to put in near I-10 at Aspalaga landing and to
take out at Gardner Landing on the East River. Andy L. generously
agreed to take us to the put-in on Monday morning and pick us
up at the take out mid-day on Friday.
The weather was near perfect except for a consistent 10 to 15
mile per hour headwind which slowed progress somewhat even in
the 4 mile per hour current. This wind, coupled with relatively
cool temperatures helped to keep the bugs down and we were never
plagued by flies, gnats, no-see-ums nor even mosquitoes.
We encountered some wildlife, both animal and human. There were
the usual gators, we rescued a possum trapped in the bottom of
a trash barrel and saw numerous Prothonotary Warblers, Night
Herons and other interesting birds but our constant companions
throughout the entire trip we were Eagles, Swallow Tailed Kites
and the steady and very loud droning of millions of bees.
Our first stop was Blue Spring only about 2 miles downstream
from the put in. This spring run on the west bank was very small
and hard to spot. It appeared to be a tiny little slough with
little or no flow at its mouth, not very inviting and certainly
not navigable but when we climbed up the banks and followed it
further on foot we found a clear rivulet running through a deep
channel. It was very pretty and coursed through a beautiful forest
of big hardwoods so we decided to hike to the spring. The hike
was about a half mile and required considerable bushwhacking
as there were no visible signs that anyone had ever passed this
way before. To our delight the walk ended at a wonderful deep
pond about 30 yards in diameter. Looking down into the transparent
water we could see numerous fish as if in an aquarium. The low
morning sunlight filtered through the huge centennial hardwoods,
glinted on the surface.and caused it to reflect the surrounding
forest doubling the effect. Although not at all difficult to
get to, this was a place to satisfy anyone's thirst for wilderness.
It felt as wild and remote as any place I have ever experienced.
It is well worth a trip solely to visit this spring and I will
go back despite the prospect of a return paddle two miles upstream
against the powerful current of the big river.
We were able to go a little way up Rock Creek on the North edge
of Torreya State Park but knowing this to be a very small stream
that could not go on for long we did not pursue it over the deadfall
blocking further progress. Sweetwater Creek was similar. We skipped
The Bayou because we knew it to be a more or less urban waterway
providing access to the river from the Blountstown area. South
of Blountstown/Bristol there is a loop called Old River to which
we think we found the entrance but three things stopped us from
taking this route: 1. Our GPS coordinate didn't come close to
matching. 2. The stream was small and blocked by fallen logs.
3. If we went this way we would miss Alum Bluff which we wanted
to see from the water. The was the first but by no means the
last stream where we found logs cut down by chainsaws in an apparent
attempt to deliberately block passage. Later on we became the
more determined perhaps because of this and began to pull over
them anyway as much out of perversity as out of curiosity.
We had lunch on a sandbar opposite Alum Bluff which is quite
spectacular seen from the water and there was a neat little waterfall at the base. A huge sandbar
over a half-mile in length and 50 wide was home
for the first night. The sand was stamped with hundreds of
footprints of deer, pigs and many raccoons so we were careful
to hang our food. We added to the list of 101 ways
to use discarded beer cans as we grilled our steaks and went to bed early. It had been a 30-mile
day and we slept well.
On the second day we explored Outside Lake.
This was a wide and on first impression attractive tupelo lined
stream many miles long with little or no detectable current.
A mile or so up we noticed that the entire stream, not just side
pools, was clouded with little black dots. On closer examination
we realized that these were gazillions of Mosquito
Larvae. They were everywhere in this large and long body
of water. There were enough it seemed, that when they all hatched
in about a week the black cloud they would become should block
out the sun, stop global warming and initiate a new ice age.
This is the stuff of which nightmares are made and we have both
suffered them ever since. Evidently we had taken this trip just
in the nick of time!
A mile or so beyond Outside Lake we came to the burgeoning metropolis
of Estiffanulga where we stopped in hopes of replenishing our
water supplies. This little town seems to have been founded at
an ill chosen site because the river appeared to have undercut
the entire town and had destroyed the boat ramp shown on the
topos. A new ramp had very recently been built well downstream
and was shored up and protected by large levees of gravel and
riprap. We walked toward the apparent center of town which we
took to be near the old ramp but became discouraged as we encountered
more and more of nothing at all. When we returned a gentleman
right next to the ramp was industriously erecting a spinning
squirrel feeder amidst the many other items of interest to future
archeologists in the yard of his ancient single wide. We asked
him for water and he was more than amiable and even offered us
a Pepsi or beer. In general people along the river are less than
affluent and their homes modest at best but they are warm hearted
and easy going; the result perhaps of being situated in an incredibly
beautiful natural location along the riverfront.
Six or seven miles further downstream we entered a small creek
which led to a larger body called Iamonia Lake or Ammonia Lake
depending on which map one is using. This would make a loop to
the West returning to the river in about five or six miles. The
creek was blocked first by a logjam against a bizarre
bridge the underpinnings of which were metal mounted on what
appeared to be aircraft tires, obviously the means by which it
was originally transported to the site. Atop this was built a
wooden roadbed. Once upon a time there had been a house on land
which might have been an island as the stream seemed to flow
in two directions around it. The creek was about a mile long
and very slow going because of trees cut down
to block the way in addition to natural deadfall. It is one
thing to pull a canoe or kayak over a log and quite another to
hoist one loaded down with fifty pounds of supplies and camping
gear. Very tired we finally emerged into Ammonia Lake which was
interesting but had a number of homes along its banks and was
perhaps not fully worth the effort it took to get there although
at least we had triumphed over the guys who had tried to prevent
us by cutting down those trees. When we reached the river again
we made camp at the first decent sandbar we came upon.
On the third day we paddled the Florida River. This originates
as a small stream flowing East several miles from the Apalachicola
then turns South and parallels the river until it becomes much
wider and larger and returns to the to the river. It is about
a 15 mile side trip altogether. Most of this is quite untouched
and very beautiful. I had paddled this once before but managed
to make a wrong turn anyway and again we had several slow miles
of pullovers and some walking but it took us to some interesting
places. We found a very unique hunting blind
inside a big hollow cypress. It had peepholes chain sawed
out on three sides and a campstool inside.
The following morning we went up the River Styx and walked through
the village near White Oak Landing. I had been here some years
before and unfortunately its character has since changed. Formerly
it was a very picturesque group of patchwork, tumbledown "vacation" hunting cottages
some of which were also permanent dwellings. Many of the owners
have become more affluent and bought nice new RVs to park on
their lots and several of the shanties are torn down and replaced
by metal buildings and even a couple of nice new houses. It was
a big disappointment.
After that brief side trip we planned to take one of several
small streams shown on the topos that connect the Apalachicola
and the Chipola about ten miles above the confluence. The first
of these streams simply did not exist. The second was small but
promising until we were committed and then we found one sawn
down log after another. Since this was the fourth day of our
trip one would expect that, with our supplies depleted, our boats
would weigh significantly less and therefore be easier to drag
over those logs. Not so. If anything they were twice as heavy
and gaining weight with every log. There must have been at least
twenty difficult pullovers in about three or four miles and it
took a good part of the day to reach the Chipola.
Several miles past the confluence of the Chipola and the Apalachicola
we took a loop through Brushy Creek.
We had both been on this creek before on another adventure too
embarrassing to describe but at that time we did not know where
we were. Kennedy Creek is one of my favorite streams and Brushy
Creek is actually a part of the large swamp near its mouth. It
is a place of rare beauty and we both agreed one of the prettiest
places encountered on the entire trip. A wonderful day trip could
be made by putting in at Cotton Landing on Kennedy, paddling
downstream into the Apalachicola, through Brushy Creek and taking
out at the landing just South of Fort Gadsden, (I don't know
the name of this landing).
We stopped on the last night at Fort Gadsden. There is no camping
at Fort Gadsden but sandbars in this area are less common than
further upstream and we needed to be within a half-day from the
take out for the following morning. Also rain was predicted for
that evening and looked as if it would not be long in coming.
Within minutes of our arrival, Sandy the caretaker's dog found
us and the caretaker himself soon followed on his bicycle. He
is a nice easygoing, hospitable fellow and a paddler himself.
He gave us no trouble about camping there. We made camp and dinner
and the rain began almost exactly at the time we were ready for
bed. In the morning the weather was clear
On the morning of the last day the rain was over, the sky was
clear and finally the wind had stopped blowing. It was a short
12 mile jaunt down the East River to the take out with just one
short side trip of about a mile down an unnamed creek.
Michael Lampman
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Information about trips in the
near future. 
