Cairo, Georgia

The beauty of traveling at a walking pace down Georgia country roads is that you get plenty of time to enjoy the small towns that you pass through. If you draw a straight line on the map between St. Marks and Springer Mountain, you pass through quite a number of them. Cairo, Camilla, Leesburg, Baconville, and Americus are directly on the route. Others are just to the east or west : Macon, Colquitt, Thomasville. Cairo, the "Hospitality City" is a real gem on the route and lives up to the slogan.

My experience in Cairo (pronounced Kay-ro) started when I was walking down the main street. There was a group of people gathered around the historical museum and they were all excited about something.

Southern Christian compassion

The body is responding. I've been averaging 20 miles a day for the past week, and no more ice packs. 

Part of any trip like this is meeting people. I know so little about the South. We seek out the storytellers in the little towns, visit museums and shops, and chat by the roadside. But we are outsiders struggling to read the tapestry, and we can only glimpse a few threads.

I stop in a parking lot to rest my feet, and a woman drives up. "God told me I should buy you a meal", and she hands me a McDonalds meal. I start to mutter that I am not homeless, and then remember a lesson my friend Loren taught me. Sometimes it is best to just graciously accept the kindness offered by others.

Another time I am lying by the roadside to rest the feet and a passing motorist calls 911 to report an old man passed out on the roadside. 

Geez, do I look that pathetic? No, I think I am just experiencing good Southern Christian compassion. 

Conditioning on the connector

It's more challenging getting the body ready this time. There are more aches that matter. The sore muscles and tender foot soles are not a problem; but ankles, shins and knees; tendons and ligaments? I rotate the two elastic bandages where most needed, usually the right ankle and either the left knee or shin. In the evening comes the ice, compression and elevation.

I am not sure what that means, but I am nine years older than when I hiked the Pacific Crest Trail at age 50.

Lying alongside the road

I'm horizontal. The left foot has been screaming "no mas" for an hour and then finally toppled me.

For two days, I have been on and off roads with no shoulders. Traffic dictates that I hike in the weeds on the left side, which slopes sideways. Knees, ankles and feet aren't made for constant walking on a side slope.

I walk with one elastic bandage on the left knee and another on the right ankle. The left foot has no bandage and hurts across the top of the forefoot.

Listening

I tell myself I'll start slow and let the body condition itself, strengthening muscles, stretching ligaments, and building callouses. Maybe a couple of days with 5-8 miles, then some tens, then fifteens, on the way to twenties. After all, the legs have been locked in a box for a couple of months, and constant wetness leaves my feet with as much callous as a baby's behind. 

But I don't listen very well.

The Hike Begins

Back to the beginning.  Back to St. Marks. 

The hiking segment began on the Historic Railway Trail, which claims to be the first rails-to-trails in the country. Perhaps that is fitting because the railway itself was also the first time Congress granted the company adjacent land to encourage development.

The hike begins very easily.

Stickler: Back to Sarasota

On the way down the gulf coast in February, I was sick in Sarasota.  To meet Pat and Roger on time, we skipped about 40 miles. That was the right call at the time as I was pretty tired when we resumed, even with short miles.

As we drove back towards St Marks, I just couldn't leave that gap.

So what is Phase two?

The adventure has always been about getting from Key West to Halifax. The initial kayaking phase is now done, so it is time to figure out the hiking phase.

While planning the kayaking portion, we decided to go slowly and start the hike at the beginning of the Appalachian Trail, leaving a gap from St Marks to Springer Mountain. I agreed to forego having an unbroken path from Key West to Halifax in order for us to go slower and enjoy the kayaking more.

But now I want to connect all of the footsteps anyway, even though I am short about a month.

Maybe instead of basing the route on the Florida Trail and Pinhoti Trail, I can make up a shorter route, and then make up time on the Appalachian Trail. Wishful thinking?

Planning the hike really is just about determining the route and getting in shape.  I have the skills and will reuse the same gear and food plan as on previous long hikes. The prep for the Appalachian Trail segment is much simpler than for the Continental Divide Trail, and yes I do have my raingear.

I started walking today, with a brisk 7.5 mile flat stroll with no pack. My legs are protesting that it is unfair to be locked up in a boat for ten weeks and then have to hike. Too bad legs. We're doing this. At least as soon as I figure out the route.

St. Marks to Key West Photo Album

 Here's what some of you have been waiting for...pictures from the journey. 

St. Marks to Key West Photo Album

Indelible Sensations

A journey this long leaves a number of indelible impressions. 

• The sound of a blackbird singing, and a mockingbird cycling through his full repertoire. 
• The crashing splash of a pelican, and a dolphin blowing out and then breathing in.
• The sewage-like smell of mangrove muck.
• The sound of oysters scrapping the bottom of the boat.
• The tug of the muck as your foot sinks deep into it.
• The gritty feel of sand on the paddle.
• The callous bumps on palms and fingers.
• Paddling in concrete against wind and current or in butter with the wind and current.
• The braking tug of shallow water.
• The rising and falling of the boat, or the bow shifting back and forth, as waves pass under.
• The utter effortlessness of the body riding the bouncing boat. 
• The acid sting of no-seeums.
• The sandy footprints of raccoons all over the boat in the morning.
• The skin searing in the intense radiation of the sun.
• The spacelessness of no horizon.
• The springiness of the wooden paddle as the stroke begins and then ends.
• The pleasant tiredness of physical activity.
• Boredom on land, and the desire to paddle.
• Getting hot and sweaty stuffing the bow bag into the boat.
• The explosion of sound and water as a manatee panics.
• The joyous feel when the paddling technique is just right.

Road's End: Key West from the water

Today we circumnavigate Key West, seeing the entire island from just offshore, and end the paddling segment of this adventure.

The impact of humans on this island is immense. Barrier walls have doubled or tripled the size of the island, paving over the shallow "wasteland". Bottomless straight channels connect landings with deeper water farther out, but isolate the underwater populations on the disconnected shallow shelves. Causeways connect the islands, but stop the water flow. Gone are the mangroves, which are the solar collector at the bottom of the entire food chain. But then, the no-seeums are gone too!

Much of the area is military. We seen a constant stream of jets from the Boca Chica Navy base, but nothing from the Sigsbee base. Instead, the Sigsbee base seems largely covered with the RVs of retired veterans. The Coast Guard controls much of the harbor on the far west tip, with their large ships and prominent RESTRICTED AREA signs, but also has an area for veteran RVs.

The closer we get to the point, the heavier the traffic becomes. Sail boats, motor boats, yachts. Fishing boats and lobster boats. Old clipper replicas. Giant cruise ships at the dock. Barges heading into the industrial area. Swarms of jet skis. Fran calls them yellow jackets because they swarm and are annoying. They are surprisingly hazardous for kayakers, apparently unaware they are creating wakes as large as those of boats so rarely slowing down.

We see lots of people. People working on boats, walking on piers, dining at waterfront restaurants, playing at the beach, sunbathing at expensive resorts, and trying out paddle boards. We paddle past the official marker of the Southernmost Point of the US, and watch the hordes queued for photos, quite a contrast to us bobbing along in the water.

Today's paddling is a good recap of the trip. We have some calm seas and calm wind. We also get the full meal deal with 15 mph head wind, 6 foot swells, 2 knot current, and the heavy boat traffic and choppy wakes from the jet skis.

Last night Fran felt the same anticipation she felt the night before we set out. Is this ending? We land at the farthest rocky point at 12:21 PM. We count 700 miles and 70 days, but it has not sunk in yet. We eat our packed lunch at Fort Zachary Taylor Park, engaging in brief conversation of a few curious vacationers, but moving out onto the quiet jetty for some stillness. We then continue to circumnavigation back to our campsite and celebrate with Doritos and beer for dinner.

Flying: Boyd's Key West Campground

Yesterday we faced a mild current coming up Tarpon Creek, but it increased to a roar during the night. Fortunately it was back to slack this morning. We broke camp fast and furious to escape the bugs, who left us alone as soon as we were on the water.

We are now horses headed to the barn. We flew over perfect snorkeling near Geiger Key without stopping. We passed families in boats playing on shallow sand bars. Nine weeks of perfecting technique and conditioning came together and we easily sustained four knots.

Our first impression approaching Key West was a bit startling.

We came around Boca Chica, a huge Navy base (with a constant roar of jets but no ships!), to see an industrial area with large storage tanks, towers, and shipping facilities. We tried to stay out of the busy channels, but then became stuck in the shallows. As we approached the campground we passed a floating village of harbor people in derelict boats and filthy water. The RV park is a little compound of white people in ritzy RV park; much less well off people of all colors and backgrounds are outside the gate amid junk yards and businesses with bars on windows. There are also modest homes and apartments, small cafes, and tattoo parlors. We are on Stock Island, just 5-6 miles from the final destination at the other end of Key West.

What will the rest of Key West be like?

Ready to be Done: Tarpon Creek

Today we planned just a half day paddle to allow time for snorkeling in Coupon Bay or off Big Munson, but the water was not clear and the sunlight blocked by clouds so we kept paddling. We aimed for a potential campsite on a small key in Newfound Bay. During the day it was quite a friendly but busy scene, with dozens of recreation boats and people standing in circles in the shallow water chatting. We ate lunch, chatted, and found a fine campsite for the night.

At 2:00 PM Fran said "Let's paddle; I'm ready to be done". We can feel the tug of Key West. We flew eight more miles in two hours to Tarpon Creek just below Pirates Cove, feeling great to be paddling. While the slow pace of the past few weeks has allowed more time for viewing nature, we missed the joy of long paddling days.

We were able to ride some waves, which is always fun. At the beginning of the trip I had limited wave riding skill, but now I can catch a ride fairly well if we find swells rather than just chop. All of our paddling skills have improved tremendously on this trip.

Tonight's destination was pretty horrible due to no-seeums. As soon as we stopped they swarmed all over us. We threw up the tent as fast as we could, but felt the burning acid sting of their bites all over our bodies. After sitting in the tent just a few minutes we quickly realized that that would not work either - we were roasting and sweating like pigs in the heat and humidity. I hopped out and took a quick sponge bath to clear some of the stench. We doused ourselves with DEET and took off on a brisk walk to get away, and we were able to out-pace the no-seeums. As long as we kept walking we did not get bit. The sun set and we dashed back into the tent, but it was still too hot inside. Back out for another walk. I alternated back and forth, trying to find relief from the stinging bugs and the sweltering heat. I finally got to sleep at midnight, five hours later.

Mental Space: Notes from Pat and Roger

We invited our paddling partners to share their thoughts as we reach Bahia Honda, the end of their journey. Here's their thoughts...

Preparing for this thru-paddle was an intense mental exercise. There were hundreds of decisions to be made: details of packing, leaving and getting to Florida, planning and arranging the paddling itinerary, what food to take and where to resupply, which exact items to bring (with limited space in the boats you can't bring anything frivolous but you need enough of the right things to be safe and we left items behind at various camps as we discovered their uselessness or mailed things back we no longer needed). Then there was the constant low-level anxiety of oh my god are we actually doing this, how is it going to work out??? Our brains were on overload!

 

But once all the choices were made and we finally dipped a paddle in the water at the put-in a wonderful thing happened. The trip was no longer a mental exercise, our minds crammed full of things that would happen in the future, it was suddenly real and we experienced a time shift to the here and now. There were only a few easy choices to make each day, which of your two or three shirts to put on (usually the dry one), when to stop for lunch, where to put up the tent, what thing to pull out of the bag for a meal, and mental space opened up. The outside world seemed far away, no news to process, oh wow, more mental space. That was the best part of the trip for me. Even if the day was long or challenging in some way there was always mental space to appreciate the beautiful and interesting places we paddled and camped.

 

I learned much from Fran and Rod on this trip. They tend to downplay their skills, but let me tell you they have it together in so many ways! They taught me the importance of clothes lines; how to put dry milk powder right on your cereal and then add the water eliminating the need to mix milk and thus the need of a milk bottle; the incredible strength, durability and usefulness of big blue Ikea bags; how to manage with a broken skeg, and the list goes on. But more than that, back in September they encouraged us to join them on their Florida paddle, helped us make it happen, and were amazing companions throughout. We can't thank you enough, you guys, and we hope the AT hike and RV part of your journey is awesome in every way!

 

- Pat

 

 

When I heard Rod and Fran describe the kayaking leg of the trip that they were inviting us on I felt some apprehension, but not about the physical aspects or length of time. I had backpacked the Pacific Crest Trail with Rod, known on the PCT as Steady. My concern was that the long hiking trails are well described, well marked, maintained, and there are many other hikers on the PCT.   On the Gulf Coast of Florida there would be residents and boaters, but it was unlikely anyone else would be doing what we were doing. There is a recent book published on the Florida Circumnavigation Trail, but this would be like doing the undeveloped Pacific Crest Trail in 1977, compared to the PCT I did in 2004. 

 

Rod and Fran did an amazing job of locating people who could supply information about the route. Rod even graphed out the likely wind patterns for each area to determine how many layover days would be necessary for days too windy to paddle. I could do the physical part, but had no idea how much food and water to take or what conditions to expect. Thanks, Rod and Fran for the effort you put into planning the trip.

 

- Roger