Relaxin’ with the Laxons

Jay has continued friendships with a number of charter guests from his time in the Virgin Islands. Michel (pronounced like Michelle) Laxson is one of those friends. She and her husband, John, live in the tiny town of Melrose on Santa Fe Lake and invited us to share a day with them. We met at a community fair and immediately fell into comfortable conversation as we strolled around the grounds then paused at a wildlife shelter booth that had two live owls that had been rehabilitated; a large Barred Owl and a cute little Screech Owl. They were the last things we expected to see that day but genuinely treasured the encounter.

The gorgeous Barred Owl perched on a T-stand.

Isn’t he the cutest little bird? He was less than 8” tall.

We followed the Laxons home where they treated us to a tour around the lake on their pontoon boat. Michel learned of our quest to find an area where we may want to live and immediately started espousing the advantages of a number of homes currently on the market in the area. The lake certainly had its appeal, but we weren’t ready to commit to Florida quite yet: Maybe after we’ve seen the rest of the country for comparison.

Both John and Michel have home based businesses; John is a stock fund manager consultant and Michele runs a river tour company, paddling on rivers throughout Florida and as far away as Hawaii. Kayaks in a rainbow of colors rest atop racks along one whole side of their backyard and, in a secure garage, a variety of sturdy canoes occupy the arms of a trailer used to transport them to and from the water. She suggested a couple of rivers that we could paddle over the next week and showed us the boats she recommended we should use. We decided to commit to the Oklawaha River and depending on how it went, then do the Silver River, her favorite.

John, Michel and their pet cat in front of their home.

They own a lot nearby where they grow grapefruit and several different varieties of oranges which they primarily juice. They showed us three different varieties and let us taste the juice from each. The color, texture and flavor of each was unique ranging from tiny, reddish orange to large, yellow orange fruit and juice. It was quite an education for us. We shared a wonderful dinner and they would not let us leave without taking a bucketful of oranges freshly picked from their orchard and a lemon the size of a grapefruit.

On Monday the 29^th, Michel, and her padding friend Mark, met us at the Ray Wayside Park for a ride down the Oklawaha River. We were very impressed with the gear she provided and the safety precautions taken with respect to securing gear in heavy, vinyl, waterproof bags. She even brought seat back supports to ease the strain on our backs.

Here we are just before launching the canoes.

We launched the canoes and slipped through a canal entirely enveloped with the fresh, spring greenery of trees and lily pads on our way to the river. In the preceding weeks, strong storms had dumped unusually large amounts of rain on the area raising the level of the river by several feet and washing in tannins from the surrounding woodlands causing the water to become brown. The sighting of turtles, alligators and water birds was affected by the increased depth as many of the fallen trees they would normally rest on were underwater. This forced them deeper into the woods to find perches and thus out of our sight. Regardless, the river was beautiful and the bounty of greenery that had popped out with the ever increasing warm temperatures further lifted our spirits after such a cold, gray, dismal winter. Our drowsy drift down the river created a melancholy peace seemingly unachievable by any other means.

We had to paddle through this gorgeous canal, lined with lily pads on our way to the Oklawaha River.

Upon our return to the park Michel produced a Ruby Red grapefruit the size of Chris’ head and gave it to us. We’d never seen a fruit so monstrous and were concerned that it might be too bitter for our tastes. A few days later we peeled it and following a “You go first” debate apprehensively tasted a small section. Our eyes widened in astonishment at its sweet succulence and we continued to dip into it until our stomachs could hold no more. Much to our dismay, after four days of snacking and using it for dinner side dishes, it was gone.

Chris couldn’t wrap her hands around this monstrous grapefruit.

Michele had not wanted us to tackle the Silver River until she determined our level of boating skills. We must have passed the test because she was eager to take us up the Silver River. We didn’t completely understand how, but we accessed the Silver River by the same park we had the Oklawaha, only we turned to the right, not the left. She suggested we use kayaks, not canoes as we had to paddle upstream to the headwaters then turn around and drift home.

Up to this time we had only floated down rivers and a minimum amount of paddling was needed for steering, or to get closer to observe something of interest, resulting in wonderfully relaxing days. Although the Silver River was just as beautiful as the others, there was little time to relax and absorb the surroundings due to the concentration required to propel us the four hours upstream against at least a 2 knot current. Staying along the sides helped but if we veered just a little into the center, the current immediately grabbed the bow of the kayak in an attempt to take it with it and more effort was required to reposition the craft and continue forward. Michel mentioned that because the river was so engorged and spread out the current was slacker than usual – music to our ears, but not necessarily to our muscles. Rest stops along the way helped and Chris was glad she’d spent the last few months building up her arm muscles with frequent exercise.

Chris took more photos of the beautiful scenes along this river than any other.

Rhesus monkeys inhabit the forest surrounding the river and Michele asked boaters that passed us if they had seen any. Many had and before long we came across a group of them that had gathered in some waterside trees. These little guys were adorable! Almost beige in color, they seemed to be no more than 3 feet in length, including their tails. Young monkeys clumsily chased each other through the branches, mothers were settled on sturdy limbs grooming and feeding their babies and larger males positioned themselves in guarded stances. All their eyes were directed our way as if we were just as entertaining to them as they were to us.

Our little point and shoot camera couldn’t take close enough photos to post here so, check out this video of stills by Paddle4Life.

Michel took this photo of the monkeys.

We knew we were near the headwaters before seeing them because of the elevator music and loud speaker enhanced voices of the glass bottom boat captains. Over the years the area has been developed into an amusement park-like attraction with groomed grounds, docks for several glass-bottom boats and other features to which we were not privy from our perspective on the water – in our opinion the best place to be. We were there on a Wednesday and the place was packed!!

The park launches the glass bottom boats from this area all day long.
This headwater is pool is larger than any we’d seen.

Admittedly the pool at the headwaters was spectacular in its clarity, size and depth (around 80 feet) and well worth the trip, but our stay was brief as we preferred the quiet and natural features of whence we had come to the carnival of humanity before us. Besides we didn’t want to get sideswiped by a glass-bottom boat.

Ahhhh, the drift home was glorious. We had time to enjoy the scenery, take pictures of purple iris, reflections of trees, soak up the warm sunshine and hang our bare feet in the water to cool us on this – are you ready for this – a little overly warm day. Not quite what we would consider hot, but warmer than we had recently experienced. Finally!!!

Michele took this photo of us during a short rest on our way back down the river.

In between our river runs, we squeezed in a dinner with another Coast Guard friend of Jay’s, Wally Holdstein. He lives in Jacksonville so we arranged to meet halfway in a little town called Starke. Since Chris is on a vegan diet we located a Chinese buffet restaurant where each of us was sure to find something they liked – if it had been fresh, that is. Chris could honestly say that she had never had worse food anywhere in her life. It was most likely due to the fact that we arrived in the early evening and they had not yet pulled the trays of food left over from lunch which had, shall we say, hardened since then, and restocked with freshly prepared entrees. Despite the rubbery fare, we had a wonderful visit with Wally catching up on our present lives and sharing stories from past.

Although we didn’t get a photo of it, we did find Waldo on the way there. Check it out here.

Bats and the Itch

We’re all familiar with bats and occasionally may see them darting through the air at dusk as they feed on mosquitoes and other pesky insects that reduce the pleasure of our outdoor experiences. As mentioned above the University of Florida campus has two bat houses located in an open field in the heart of the campus across from Lake Alice, a large recreational area. The bats hang out in what appear to be gabled rooflines of houses perched 20-some feet atop five stout pilings. One with four triangular shaped gables at right angles to each other, the second looking like the roof of a small barn. Both have black, bat silhouettes affixed to their faces.

The bat silhouette on the front of the barn shaped bat house.

With cameras in hand we arrived before dusk and, to capture an unobstructed view, positioned ourselves along a wooden, board fence that surrounded the field. Before long at least a score of other curious onlookers filtered into watch the show. Jay and I chatted with another couple and watched a hawk get into position for his evening meal.

Finally a smudge of black flashed out from under a roof; then another, then two, then ten and in moments the sky was black with these flying mammals contorting through the air in a quest to fill their bellies. With these tiny aerial acrobats came a heavy, musky odor not unlike what one would experience from a caged animal at a zoo; a scent totally unexpected on our part. It seemed just as quickly as the exodus began, it ended and one hundred thousand bats were dispersed through the night. Jay was overjoyed as he never got one mosquito bite the whole evening. We left knowing that, outside of trekking to some exotic jungle location, we may never experience anything quite like it again.

Go to this link for a video of the bats and the hawk.

There they go – by the thousands.

On the 26^th we met Art and Edda Ross for a ranger guided kayak trip down the Ichetucknee Spring. Like the Rainbow River, the water was crystalline and the sandy bottom darkened by a forest of lush grasses. With the weather warming, luminescent, green blades of wild rice stretched out of the water, their roots providing marshy habitat for young fish and amphibians. Massive Cypress trunks lined the banks, their roots splaying into water that reflected their fragmented images to those passing by. Patches of fresh chartreuse leaves peppered the solid gray of Spanish moss wafting overhead like confetti at a Mardi Gras parade.

Notice the circular area in the middle of the pool where the spring water breaks the surface.

Freshly emerged blades of rice grasses backlit by the sun.

The massive, contorted root structure of a gorgeous cypress tree.

Our guide, Park biologist Ginger Morgan, pointed out wildlife and features of the river we would not have known otherwise, including where a, now long gone, settlement had sprung up around a mill located in an idyllic wooded setting on a branch of the river, and where beaver had gnawed the bark off of tree trunks exposing fresh, pale wood. We saw our first wild Wood Stork and Pileated Woodpecker, and Jay got a close-up look at another young water snake. Turtles the size of platters sunned themselves on logs and the day ended with a most spectacular treat - three manatees.

Just before we reached the landing at the end of our voyage, a baby and two adult manatees appeared just below the surface of the water. Periodically one would break the surface with just its nose for a breath of air then slowly descend a few feet and continue its languid swim. Ginger was looking them over for scars or other identifying features to determine if they had been on the river before while Jay maneuvered the kayak into the best positions for Chris to take pictures being careful to not be above them or accidently jab them with a paddle.

A huge manatee just under the surface of the water.

A mother catching a breath of air as she swims next to her baby.