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Floating through the early morning mist, it is easy to
imagine how a few renegade Ivory-billed Woodpeckers could defy detection in the
vast and mysterious swamps and tributaries along the Choctawhatchee River. My
heart opens in the magic and awe of sunbeams slashing across the frosty polar
smoke backlighting big cypress trees and flashing fall colors in hazy pastels.
Rather than the now-mythical woodpeckers, we are more simply
in search of Florida’s hidden Fountains of Youth, intimate crystal blue springs
too remote for most eyes. Having launched in pre-dawn darkness on Holmes Creek,
we are picking our way downstream watching for side creeks, especially
spring-clear tributaries.
Having turned up a promising waterway in growing light, John
and I soon come to a very wide shallow section, confirmation that we are
entering Mill Lake, and on the path to two named and countless smaller unnamed
springs. The water is so low that we almost immediately grind to a halt on the thick
mud lake-bottom and wonder if we must give up. Twenty feet to our left, a slightly different
color to the water suggests an extra inch or two -- enough to float us? And how do we get there? The pole plunges
down into bottomless mud without giving us any push. No nearby shore, no way to
walk. We’re stuck.
With a paddle and shifting our weight around the boat, we
make it to the slightly deeper water and freedom. We wend our way through the
subtle channel, finally reaching deeper water at the far end of the lake and
continuation of the creek. Poling,
paddling, and motoring upstream again, one last bend reveals a beautiful
headspring called Washington Blue. Still
early and misty, we make a photo and vow to return when the sun is higher in
the sky.
We had passed another fork on our way to Blue. Where might
that lead? This tiny clear creek is barely wider than the jonboat. Surprisingly, we travel a long way upstream
until becoming totally blocked by a large deadfall. The sun is bright and air warmer -- John is
overtaken by the need for a nap. Cameras in hand, I wade further upstream
coming upon a lovely cypress showing off fall color. Here it is twice – first from the viewpoint
of a deer come to take a drink, and then as viewed by the the bass lurking in
the big tree’s shadow.
Hiking another half mile along the stream, we reach a 2nd
large headspring. Friend, George
Willson, who knows these parts as well as anyone, later identified this from
the photos as Potter Spring (and the other as Washington Blue – we had them
mixed up.)
An even smaller brown-water creek entices us to explore
further upstream. Luckily so. We come to a gorgeous bathtub-sized spring
beneath a huge tupelo tree, multiple seep springs flowing out of the bank, and
bizarrely-shaped cypress knees and rooty-based trees. By the time we get back
to the boat, the sun is low again. So
much for re-shooting Washington Blue.
Next day, we are exploring the area around Millers Ferry
Road. Abstract watercolors lay at the
foot of fall-colored trees in the still water of an enticing side creek.
Shallows soon force us to abandon the boat.
On foot, we follow the flow through swamp and tangle. Massive cypress
and bizarre stilted trees rising out of old stumps provide the “breadcrumb”
landmarks we’ll need to get back.
After lunch and a hammock nap, we find a lovely spring right
on Holmes Creek. Not knowing its official name, we dub it Jagged Ledge for its
sawtooth rock shelf. The day is glorious.
Our final morning. We launch our canoe and kayak upstream
from Cypress Spring. Another group of paddlers has just shoved off. Holmes Creek sweeps us into its currents and
pretty soon we are veering off right into the large clear spring run. Wow. What
a place. I’ll let the photos speak to
its beauty.
Homeward bound, we are fortified and fulfilled by our long
drinks from a delicious sampling of Holmes Creek’s Fountains of Youth.
