By Sarah Taylor, GRN Communications Coordinator
“Every river has…its individuality, its great silent interest. Ever river has, moreover, its influence over the people who pass their live within sight of its waters.” – H.S. Merriman
We started the day laughing and honestly, haven’t really stopped. While packing up camp this morning, a group of us began to take down the large tarp shelter that provided shade during dinner the night before. Before a single fold had been made, Paddle Georgia Coordinator Joe Cook grabbed the dish soap and squirted it down the length of the tarp. It wasn’t until his shirt was off and he was diving head first at the tarp that I understood the morning’s new contest: slip & slide.
With a bit of encouragement, and a bit more water and soap, a few more brave souls took their turn at sliding head-first, feet first or just simply slipping and falling down the tarp. It was a lot of good energy right at the start of a great day on the river.
Today’s journey was intended to be 22 miles of sand bars, springs and limestone bluffs, but due to the high-flow from rain earlier in the week (it was running at 6,000 cubic feet per second, normally its at 2,000) most were submerged beneath a few feet of extra river water. That didn’t mean we stopped looking for the springs though! The first stop of the day after launching from Mitchell County Landing was the Wall Spring, where I found Georgia Adopt-a-Stream staff diving down to collect water samples for testing. A group of four with Adopt-a-Stream are conducting both field tests and collecting samples to be tested offsite at key spots along our route (more on them tomorrow or Friday because they’re doing a workshop for those interested!). As predicted, we could not see the clear blue water bubbling up, however you could feel the cooler temperature of the water compared to the rest of the river, which inspired the feeling that what you were looking for was just beyond your fingertips.
As we glided almost effortlessly in the fast current down toward the next spring, Leslie pointed out two barred owls perched in a tree just on the riverbank. They looked at us as we paddled up against the current, trying to keep them in our sights. They were stunning, especially against the white-washed coloring of the branches they sat upon. Before letting the current carry us away, Harold pointed out a loud buzzing noise and spotted a large hornets nest in the tree adjacent to the ‘owl’ tree. I was happy they were far away!
The fast current allowed for less paddling today, despite being a high-mileage day. This meant more conversations and more poking around discovering things on the shoreline you wouldn’t normally see when you have to book it to the takeout. One thing that struck me was how many of the participants have been coming back year after year, and in particular, how many of their kids grew up on Georgia’s rivers thanks to adventures like Georgia River Network’s Paddle Georgia. As a newcomer to the Georgia River Network team (I was hired on as Communications Coordinator in March of this year — yay!), it injects incredible meaning for me into the work that I’m doing, to meet our supporters in this way and to hear how their stories intertwine with Georgia River Network’s mission to connect people with Georgia’s rivers.
One of the highlights of today was navigating a variety of Cypress tree knees and other branches and stumps while paddling up Raccoon Creek in search of another spring. The water was unusually muddy, but the recent rainfall allowed us to paddle much further up the creek than you can normally get by boat, all the way to where the spring (Walton Spring, I think), is normally bubbling up.
We parked the boats to look around. Joe and I climbed over roots and limestone rocks (some of which had shell fossils imprinted on them) to get a better look at the cypress knees poking out of rolling murky water. They created an almost eerie, almost enchanting feel about the place. As I scrambled about, I noticed clam shells sitting shattered at the edge of the creek and wondered what, if anything, had eaten them. After crossing the creek to look for more fossils in the limestone rocks, it hit me how rivers have this unique capacity to transport you to scenes like this, a space that is less traveled by humans because there are no hiking trails or roads leading to them. The aloneness, the immersion into the sound and feeling of the place, can make even a muddy creek mesmerizing. Before we headed on, Joe caught a beetle and shook it gently in his hands before taking a big whiff, expecting to smell green apple but coming away disappointed (apparently you need more than one beetle to get this effect).
Further downstream, there were more limestone bluffs along the route like on Day 1, decorated by maiden hair and other ferns. A few fun pockets cut into the limestone bluffs were just large enough for a kayak to go in, make a 3-point turn, and exit. You better believe we all tried it, more than once, sometimes a few at a time (I told you at the beginning that we spent the day laughing, didn’t I?).
With seven miles left of the 22, and feeling like we didn’t want to rush through the rest of the day, we stopped paddling and put our feet up for a bit. We allowed the current to carry us past large, voluminous trees standing tall in the hot sun. The end of some of their green branches sometimes dipped down into the water, creating small bridges that, when paddled under, offered a brief respite from the hot afternoon sun.
This section of the Flint River normally offers sandbar after sandbar, meaning it’s normally ripe with swimming opportunities. Today, we were lucky enough to find two. The laughter continued as we ping ponged jokes back and forth, discussed topics of interest and cooled off in the river. One person in our group said it was the hardest she’s laughed in a year and a half — yay, pandemic-edition Paddle Georgia for the win!
As we neared the takeout at Rocky Bend Flint River Retreat, the evening’s campsite, the dark clouds that had been growing quickly up ahead began to unleash great cracks of thunder. We were just crossing the river to the takeout when the rain droplets began to pelt us, but it didn’t even matter — today was perfect.
Everyone was in good spirits as we gathered in Rocky Bend’s air-conditioned pavilion for a dinner of fried fish and tasty southern classics. Following dinner, we enjoyed an educational talk by none other than Gordon Rogers of the Flint Riverkeeper, who has nearly 18 years of experience serving in riverkeeper groups for Georgia rivers. He discussed the infamous Tri-State Water Wars and the Flint Riverkeeper’s role in trying to improve the water flow problem, in particular the riverkeeper’s focus on continuing to improve agricultural irrigation technology, since agriculture plays such a large role in this issue. Please learn more about and support the Flint Riverkeeper for all that they do to keep the Flint healthy.
After dinner, the program included gopher tortoise jokes, favorite moments on the river, little-known facts, volunteer prizes and thanks to our friend Georgia, some Flint River trivia! A huge thanks to Rocky Bend Flint River Retreat for hosting us tonight. Located right on the bank of the Flint River, Rocky Bend is a beautiful full-service campground with rental cabins available. Check them out!
More than halfway through the week, I feel that this closing gives an appropriate status update for the group:
We are peppered in mosquito, chigger and red ant bites and have blisters where the sandals we swore perfectly fit our feet are now rubbing them raw, but we are also oh, so happy. We are sunburnt and our tents still haven’t quite dried out from the rain, but we are also oh, so happy. We are traveling down 100 miles of the Flint River on a weeklong journey with old and new friends, who come from all over, but who share a love for Georgia’s rivers and for Georgia River Network. You want to know how we all feel about being here? We are oh, so very happy.
Hopefully that didn’t wax poetic too much for y’all. Goodnight!