To the Moon!

Well, we're not going to the Moon, but I won't be posting for a bit as we head south for a week or so of camping and kayaking and snorkeling. No posts for me. I do hope to spend my evenings working on my current novel.

Later!

Ecofina Springs.

Juniper Spring.

Kayaking the Ichetucknee River.

Notable Critters

Carole and Andy and I have encountered many animals in our travels to various parks and forests around the southeast. We've bumped in to everything from big mammals like elk, bears, coyotes, and manatees, to really tiny things like butterflies and scorpions.

But there have been a couple of exceedingly notable critters in all of our trips, and both of these were encountered in separate journeys to Florida.

The first really standout animal was a thieving hawk who posted itself at our campsite at Juniper Springs Recreation Area and attempted to steal the steaks and burgers from our grill. However, Carole had stoked the grill so aggressively that the coals were super-hot. Just at the point the raptor was almost able to grab the meat off the coals, the temperature was so intense that he had to swerve aside at the last instant and so left with nothing but the sounds of our surprise.

The hawk (I don't know if it was a he or a she), then took up temporary residence in a tree above our campsite and waited for us to make the mistake it would need to take food. But we'd figured out its game and finally it gave up. Instead, it flew to a family a few campsites over from us and took their steaks. Better their dinner than ours, I say.

Later, we encountered a campground regular who had dealings with the hawk from previous trips. He just posted a portable umbrella over his grill area and that settled that.

"Yeah, I'm guilty. What ya gonna do about it?"

The second critter that made an impression on us was the raccoon who tormented us for days at Blue Spring State Park. The first day we were there, as we were setting up our camp, this raccoon showed up while our backs were turned and snagged a packet of hamburgers from the cooler it had overturned while we were otherwise engaged. All we could do was follow its felonious little footprints into the underbrush. Lesson learned.

Later that night, as we were watching TV in our travel trailer, Carole looked as the same raccoon opened our front door (Carole had left it ajar) and barged into our personal living space! Carole screamed bloody murder as its small masked face appeared around the edge of the refrigerator. The noise forced the trouble-making asshole into a hasty retreat. But Carole must have angered the varmint, for the following morning she looked for her sandals (which she'd left by the door) only to find that one of them had been stolen. We never found it, and the only explanation that makes any sense at all is that the raccoon took it out of spite.

The day after that the raccoon returned again. She came out of the brush as we were preparing lunch and sat herself down right in the middle of our campsite and dared me to try to move her. By this time I was fairly sure it was a female, since she looked to be very pregnant. Yes, it could just have been a particularly fat and healthy raccoon, but I tend to think she was pregnant and eating for the many little assholes growing in her womb.

I had to post myself between her and the food that day. Later, we stopped at the ranger station to complain and the ranger showed up with a live trap. The next morning it only held a silly possum, and we had to leave soon after. The ranger assured us that if she caught the real culprit that she would not harm her, only move her away from the campground. I'd like to think that she didn't cause anyone else the problems that she made for us, but who knows?

She sure looked pregnant to me.

On (Not)Gittin' Et

I spent a number of my younger years on the coastal plains of Georgia. Frankly, because of my familiarity with the coast, I got sick of it. This is one reason that I prefer the high country when I take a vacation. But once or twice a year we head for the ocean or, preferably, Florida's first magnitude springs to spend a week or two.

So it was in March of 2006 when the three of us hauled the travel trailer to Juniper Spring in the Ocala National Forest. One of the things we did was float our canoe down the Juniper Springs Run, a small river formed by the upwelling of millions of gallons per day of crystal clear, pure spring water. Along the way, we saw a tremendous amount of wildlife. Everything from vast schools of fish, to rafts of turtles sunning themselves on exposed roots, to white-tailed deer and wild turkey grazing along the river banks.

Common turtle sunning himself.

Before we started that float trip, one of the rangers told us of a spot where we should be able to look to our right and, hopefully, see "the biggest alligator any of us has ever seen". He went on to tell us not to worry about the 'gator, that he would just be lying up on his run taking the sun beside the river, and just to look and not get out. "He's sixteen feet long", he told us. "Biggest alligator we've measured here in this area."

Wild turkey beside Juniper Run.

This was not good news to Carole, but I was anxious to spot this mammoth reptile. So when we got to the area where the ranger said we would likely see this enormous crocodilian, we kept our eyes open and and hands in the boat. However, all we saw was the muddy spot along the banks where, just as the ranger had explained, this alligator was accustomed to hauling his ass out of the water to take the sun.

Although a bit blurry, I love this photo that I took as we were gliding past this spot. Note the raccoon in the foreground, who seemed to be fishing. And the white-tailed deer on the bank beyond. This area, an established and protected wilderness, was packed with wildlife.

We looked, but no giant alligator. He was, we figured, out shopping for something to eat. We did not get out to go wading. Eventually, we hauled out canoe out where the park service came to pick us up with their handy shuttle service. People were swimming in some numbers in the huge swimming hole there.


Four weeks later, after we'd come home, a cousin of that sixteen-foot alligator killed a woman who went down to a spring near where he sunned himself. She'd gone down to snorkel, and another large 'gator was waiting there.

We were lucky.

Me and Andy at the gittin' out spot.