March 2018 - Page 2 of 3

Storm Layover, Spring Warrior Fish Camp: Day 37, Florida CT Paddle 3.21.18

March 21st, 2018susanafield0 Comments

Dear Reader, Today was as lazy as a day can be. The wind blew such that John couldn’t use his stove, so we ate what we could using the microwave this morning, and thank God for the coffee maker. Of note: Sea to Summit bowls are not, repeat NOT, microwave safe. Yes, our bowl now is as bubbled as parts of my skin. Sigh. We did use the barbecue downstairs for our dinner though, with leftovers to eat on the (hopefully) trail tomorrow. I initially couldn’t imagine what I’d be doing by day three in a motel room during a …

Storm Layover, Spring Warrior Fish Camp: Day 35 & 36, Florida CT Paddle 3.19-20.18

March 20th, 2018susanafield6 Comments

Dear Reader, We are in Florida’s remote Big Bend, where the panhandle ends and the mainland heads south (blue and white dot). The smaller blue pin shows where we started and the red pin shows our intended destination for this season. I like looking at this map. It makes me feel like we’re making progress, no matter how slowly. And it makes me feel less frustrated about being held up again due to weather. We arrived here at Spring Warrior Fish Camp and Motel on Sunday after paddling our second-longest day yet in order to get here before the storm. …

Spring Warrior Fish Camp: Day 34, Florida CT Paddle 3.18.18

March 19th, 2018susanafield2 Comments

Dear Reader, This morning we awoke to the buzz of mosquitoes in our thicket and quickly broke camp, slipping into the calm mist of the river, beaten only by one fishing boat. Water like glass. Sky like calm water. Sixteen and a half nautical miles of glorious paddling through the white of fog was our reward. We paddled all morning by compass to the charted mound of Rock Island. I love paddling in the flat and silence of fog. Tilting the rudderless Miss Pink starboard, the compass heading nudged east, and tilting port it would nudge west. Thus we kept …

Econfina River Primitive Camp: Day 33,Florida CT Paddle 3.17.18

March 18th, 2018susanafield5 Comments

Dear Reader, I write this knowing I am out of cell phone range (for the first time on this trip) and so you will not read it for at least a day, if not more, as we go deeper into The Big Bend region of Florida and turn south. Last night was warm enough to go back to sleeping in underwear and a cotton tank top inside my sleeping bag within new bag liner. And so it was easier than it has been in over a week to get up early and get on the water before the seemingly inevitable …

Ring Dike, St. Mark’s NWR: Day 32, Florida CT Paddle 3.16.18

March 16th, 2018susanafield0 Comments

Dear Reader, Today was a gorgeous day of paddling! When I awoke in the night, the marsh was alive with the chattering ruckus of seabirds! I had never heard such a midnight chorus of seabirds before. Who was carrying on and why? Surely it wasn’t a way to stay warm? The morning’s low temperature of 39 was five degrees warmer than it has been recently, and thus felt downright balmy. And when daylight arrived the seas lay flat. Such a glorious site! Blue above and blue below, with just a smudgy pencil line of land in the horizon. We paddled …

Fog Island, St. Mark’s: Day 31, Florida CT Paddle 3.15.18

March 15th, 2018susanafield3 Comments

Dear Reader, This mid-March morning it was colder at our Florida campsite (near Panacea) than in Seattle or the two Colorado towns where we used to live or the one where our grown son lives. San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, where we live when we’re not paddling or camper camping, seems to have the best temps of them all! This is what I slept in: 2 pairs of socks, underwear, long stretch pants, fleece tank top, paddling rash guard shirt, sweatshirt with hood, fleece hat, two sleeping bag liners (I gave up my pillow) and my summer-weight sleeping bag. Oh, …

Mashes Sands County Park: Day 30, Florida CT Paddle 3.14.18

March 14th, 2018susanafield2 Comments

Dear Reader, We awoke to another cold, dark morning. Since John and I recently crossed into Eastern Standard Time and more recently switched over to Daylight Savings Time, our internal clocks are about two hours off. Since when is sunrise supposed to be at the ungodly late hour of 7:48 am? And with temps then still hovering in the 30s, how is anyone in a tent supposed to get up at a decent hour? We feel like shameful, freezing sloths before our eyelids even fully open. Not inspiring by any means. John dutifully lit our stove out on the picnic …

Holiday Campground: Day 29, Florida CT Paddle 3.13.18

March 13th, 2018susanafield2 Comments

Dear Reader, This morning was freakin cold at 38 degrees. And at 4:30am a truck pulled into our campsite. Early fishermen who don’t mind the cold? That was my hope until we heard the drunken “yeehaw,” but then they left, thank God, blaring their horn off in the distance. When we next awoke, mist was steaming off the river and we forced ourselves out of our sleeping bags and began to pack. John was feeling better and was ready to go. Leaving Campsite X, the Crooked River soon turned north while we turned south towards the Ocklockonee River, which would …

Layover Crooked River Campsite X: Day 28, Florida CT Paddle 3.12.18

March 12th, 2018susanafield0 Comments

Dear Reader, As soon as I signed off last night, the rains came and pounded on the tent like a drum and thunder boomed in the distance. Once it quelled, I got up to pee and stumbled to the river’s edge by headlamp. No wonder it’s a swamp. The kayaks were practically floating in the puddles that had formed beneath them even as they sat on high ground. I looked furtively about with my headlamp in the otherwise pitch black of the moonless night, half expecting to find an alligator by my side, and dashed back to the tent thinking …

Crooked River Campsite X: Day 27, Florida CT Paddle 3.11.18

March 11th, 2018susanafield2 Comments

Dear Reader, When John woke up this morning, his fever had broken. He had a headache and didn’t feel 100% but felt good enough to keep paddling. While we were packing up, two fishermen pulled up in their truck and launched their boat. When asked what they were fishing for they answered “we’re just going to throw in some bait on the end of a line and see what bites.” And then they rattled off some fish names, the only one I recognized being Bass. The river widened and stretched out some of its kinks as we paddled away from …