The Swamp is Inevitable (ECT Day 52)

• Hiked Today: 13.4 miles
  • The Florida Trail (866.4 – 879.8)
• Total Hiked: 1,090.7 miles
• Total Paddled: 99.5 miles

Weather: sunny and clear, 30-50°F

“Suck it up, buttercup.”

– Heather “Anish” Anderson in Mud, Rocks, Blazes: Letting Go on the Appalachian Trail 

Memory Island Camp to Snowbird Motel

A series of unexpected events kicked things off this morning. The first was that I woke up at first light, about when I’m usually starting my hike. At some point in the night, I had intentionally bumped my alarm later, but figured I’m normally up tossing and turning and would get myself up naturally. Not to be. No matter, I was happy for the extra sleep.

As I packed up, I “brewed” and drank a cup of coffee. Moments after draining the last dregs, I was startled to realize I’d been using my “dirty” water bottle. The way I use my Sawyer squeeze water filter is by collecting water from the streams and ponds and such with one bottle, and then I pressure squeeze it through the filter to a “clean” bottle. You catch my drift? So the sips I took last night as well as my coffee this morning were potentially “contaminated.” Am I going to get sick? Probably not, but it could happen. I did take some comfort in that the last source was from the spigot where I’d just filled both bottles straight up.

After all that, I got going around 7:15 am. An hour and half of hiking later, I was back in the same spot. Hmm that’s not usually how it works Stevie, you say? I concur. Unexpected occurrence number three. Let me explain.

Patience Young Padawan 

You see, it was below freezing temperatures waking up today. I knew this was coming and had done some research last night to see if there was a way out of this swamp without having to plunge my already frozen shoes right back into frozen water in the early am. Most of today would be a road walk to the town of Bristol, FL but I had a few miles of trail still to get to the road. Comments in the app told it would likely be more swamping.

See, I’m surrounded by wetlands.

I had seen a route of what appeared to be forest roads leading out that would get me to the paved road up ahead. “Wow, look at me and the how resourceful I am,” I thought. “I’ll write a comment in FarOut once I’m sure this whole thing works out.” You probably see where this is heading, or I suppose… not heading.

Flock of birdies (sound up) when I was still hopeful about my alt.

My scheme was doomed quickly into it. I’d hiked maybe a mile out of my way and found out the road I’d wanted to take was private. Right at the border leaving the National Forest, there were no trespassing signs. This exact thing happened to me on the CDT in New Mexico when trying to bail out from the National Forest fire closures. Bummer. I stupidly didn’t give up yet though, I tried two more faded roads only to find they dead ended into swamp or nothingness. Then, I finally retreated and walked my same route back, head hung low.

Ok, that’s being a bit dramatic, but I was frustrated. Angry at myself for trying what in retrospect seemed folly from the start. I was hoping to get into town early today, but in this moment it seemed like that wasn’t happening. I was being quite impatient, feeling this whole thing had set me back. Again, dramatic, I know.

I Didn’t Choose the Swamp Life, The Swamp Life Chose Me

This is not my first time walking through a frozen swamp. In fact, for a time in my life, I’d do it every year during deer hunting season in Northern Michigan. My grandparents used to own property that connected with a few other relatives land to form 120-acres. Some of this was dry, but the majority of it was a deep, mucky, Cedar swamp. The story goes that back in the day some of the family were deemed “the hill hunters,” and some “the swamp hunters.” You can guess which camp my family was part of.

Following in my dad’s footsteps, I accepted the tradition of tromping seemingly to the exact farthest part and deepest water we could find on the property. And somehow it always seemed to be freezing temperatures on the particular weekend we visited, yet never creating solid enough ice to walk on. We’d start in the dark with headlights on, carry giant external framed packs, and sit out there all day.

Most times swamping, I’d inevitably slip and water would top the hip boots or waders I dunned. I’d get to my spot perched on an island of slightly higher ground and remove my boots and socks and do whatever it took to get dry and warmed up again. All that effort and very rarely would I ever see anything but squirrels, birds, and the occasional porcupine. Yet, for some reason, I deeply treasure those experiences and memories of “the swamp.” I’ve thought a lot about the special bond I have with that place while down here on the Florida Trail.

Maybe it was because of these previous experiences that I was so hesitant to enter into the cold waters. Finally setting out on the FT from my camp, the silver lining I held onto was that it was slightly warmer after tooling around looking for my alternate. That thought didn’t last when I did end up plunging into the frigid water. Brrr. Truthfully, the shallow stuff was fine. I think my feet went numb pretty quickly. The occasional deeper parts, on the other hand, where the water was shin to sometimes over the calve muscle, those hurt. The pain seemed to trickle up to the rest of my body through my bones or something.

After much ado about nothing, this turned out to be a beautiful section and it went by quick. In no time, I’d popped out to the road and was leaving Apalachicola National Forest.

A Wonderful Town Visit in Bristol 

I cruised on the road and made it into the town of Bristol before 1:00 pm. I was happy about this because I’d booked a motel for the night and was looking forward to having the rest of the day to relax! Sheesh, I was once again running on empty and in need of a recharge in town. This was also once again too long a stretch without shower and laundry. I don’t think on other trails I went this long between.

Before complete chill mode at the motel, I took a detour to visit Piggly Wiggly, the grocery store, to resupply and get lunch at the deli counter. It was nice to have slightly more options than the DG and I think I did pretty good taking advantage of this fact. A stop at the hardware was also in order to get stove fuel. Everything was close, which is always nice.

The motel was heavenly. Just what I needed. The only bummer was they didn’t offer laundry, so I did have to go right back into filthy cloths. Some of the quick dry stuff, I rinsed and cleaned as best I could, but that just doesn’t cut it.

You’ve probably been able to tell by my many stupid references that I’m a big movie fan. As such, I scrolled through the channels to find a movie to stick on while doing my town chores. A Knights Tale is a classic for sure and perfect for the occasion. I shall go forth on this trail inspired by Sir Ulrich Von Liechtenstein a.k.a Sir William Thatcher 😉

Album of the Day; “License to Ill (1986)” by Beastie Boys