On a brisk morning in late February, six outdoorsmen set out
on an adventure through the Central Florida wilderness. The goal was to
traverse 22 miles through the Little Lake George wilderness in Ocala national
forest. The party was to hike and small game hunt along the way. Whoever’s
genius idea it was to tackle such a feat is still unknown, though much of the
party places blame on one individual in particular; especially when things
began to go awry. The following is an account of the adventure through the eyes
of one of the outdoorsmen…
February 28th,
2014. 09:30:
Today, myself and five
friends (Hunter, Mitch, Kyle, Rob, and Ian) set out on an adventure through
Ocala National Forest. It’s the last weekend of small game season and I’m
hopeful that we can shoot some pigs during this trip. I’ve admittedly done very
little research when it comes to the path I’ve chosen, but I imagine it ought
to be alright. 22 miles round trip and hunting alongside the St. Johns River.
We plan to have a drop off and a pick up vehicle between our start and end
spots. If all goes according to plan, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t, we will
start our hike this afternoon and finish it by around lunchtime Sunday.
Everyone’s beginning to show up now. I’ll update this log as the trip progresses.
10:30:
We’ve made one final
stop for supplies in Palatka at the Winn-Dixie. Though I brought plenty of
food, I couldn’t resist the impulse buy of summer sausage, triscuits, blue
Gatorade, and cheese. Everyone else is currently devouring rotisserie chicken and
other pre-cooked food like it’s their final meal. Perhaps they know something I
don’t.
10:57:
All the gear is
unloaded and ready at our start point. Mitch and I are about to go drop off his
car and Rob will follow to drive us back. It’s a beautiful morning. Though
slightly chilly, I’m looking forward to this trip. I’m glad I brought my fleece
jacket. I think I’ll leave this Gatorade here as a treat for when we finish on
Sunday.
11:30:
It’s time to start our
adventure. Last minute preparations are underway as some of the guys are
strapping down the last of their gear to their packs. The shotgun is loaded,
bag is packed, and I’m feeling great. Spirits seem high.
11:35:
We’ve stumbled upon
what can only be a meth house. I’m pretty sure I can still see our car from
here. We’ll cautiously try to make our way around this obstacle without getting
shanked.
11:40:
The vegetation
throughout Little Lake George wilderness is much…thicker than Google Earth led
me to believe. We’re still currently stuck walking down this dirt road. Through
the brush, I can see the tree line of the swamp. That’s where I want to be.
I’ll find a spot for us to cross this water-filled ditch soon, and we’ll be on
our way.
12:20:
The fleece jacket was
overkill. I’m practically melting at the moment. And as if sweating wasn’t
enough, we managed to walk through a peculiarly wet area, thus soaking my boots
and socks to the core. If there’s one thing in the world I hate, it’s wet feet.
Hopefully I dry out soon. I’m glad I didn’t pack more gear. I think my bag is
the perfect weight.
13:07:
Progress is rather
slow. Though the edge of this swamp is relatively open, cypress knees and
fallen trees continuously make travel extremely difficult. To add, six full
grown men trudging through the woods are about as stealthy as a stampeding herd
of bison. The woods are noticeably absent of life. I worry we may find nothing
to shoot.
13:42:
We shot something.
Well…by we, I mean Mitch. And by shot something, I mean he defended himself
against what can only be described as a boar-tadpole. It’s big enough that it
should add plenty to our food supply. A supply that, oddly enough, is beginning
to run low. As is our water.
14:21:
Given our current
progress, my calculations suggest that we should reach the pick-up vehicle by
mid-May. Ground needs to be covered much more quickly if we expect to finish
this trip. We’ve decided to forgo the swamp edge for the time being and walk
through the pines further up the hill. Travel will be quicker, and it should be
a bit drier up there.
14:24:
The pines further up
the hill are nothing like we expected. Somehow, there’s even more standing
water here than there was in the swamp. To add, there’s fallen trees every few
steps; forcing us to either climb around in the shin deep water, or trip wildly
every few steps. My bag is beginning to feel heavier.
14:28:
We’ve lost Hunter and
Mitch. I can only assume they’ve somehow perished in this watery hell and have
met their fate. All attempts to contact them have been met with silence. For
the good of the group, we’re moving on.
14:40:
I brought it to Rob,
Kyle, and Ian’s attention that should we miraculously complete this journey
intact, we’d make it to the pick-up vehicle with no keys and no way to get
back. Mitch holds the keys and we at least need that if we expect to ever make
it home.
15:08:
We found Hunter and
Mitch. They apparently never heard our calls despite only being a few hundred
yards away. This is a strange place. Sound doesn’t travel far, and I could’ve
sworn I just noticed water flowing uphill. Perhaps I’m just tired. I need to
drink more water and lighten this pack.
15:52:
The nightmare
labyrinth of dead pines and shin high water has yet to end. We’ve turned south
now and are following the St. Johns.... I think…Everyone appears exhausted,
though no one seems to be complaining. Spirits remain relatively high despite
current circumstances. Each of us are soaked to the bone and everyone either
has, or has almost, fallen into the water at least once. Earlier, I heard Ian
shout, “Wha…Well…Yep…I’m going down”, and I turned to see him falling. In this
bizarre twilight zone of wilderness, I watched him gracefully fall for close to
30 seconds before hitting the ground. And as if that wasn’t surprising enough,
he landed on probably the only piece of dry land within a hundred miles. There’s
no logic in this place.
17:11:
If my body had to
guess, we’ve been walking for days. The GPS claims we’ve come 3.2 miles, but I
don’t trust it. It hasn’t seen what we’ve seen. We’re at the edge of the swamp
again and have stopped to take a water break. Ironically, many of us are
beginning to run low on water. There’s talk of blue Gatorades, but at this
point, they seem an unachievable treat. The high spirits are beginning to wane.
We must break free from this hell.
17:30:
A look to the south
reveals no end to this misery. The same mysterious, and interminable mire
stretches out beyond the vanishing point in the direction we need to go. The
bugs are horrendous, and as the day stretches on, we’re shortened for time to
find a suitable campground. I doubt the guys want to sleep in the water, so we
need to find dry land before nightfall. The liar GPS says there’s a road 0.4
miles to our west. We’ll believe it when we see it, though given that all the
water around us is flowing uphill (to the west), dry ground cannot be far.
17:55:
We’ve found the road!
High fives all around. Now we just need a suitable campsite. My pack has gained
30lbs since we left, and I expect I will have shrunk 2-3 inches by the end of
this trip.
18:08:
Everyone has decided
on a campground. Though the land here is dry, all the potential fire wood
surrounding us is soaking wet. To add, everything here was recently burned, and
the woods are scorched. Our fire is absolutely pathetic thanks to the wet wood.
Some of the guys began rationing water earlier today and while we sit around
the smudge of a fire in a vain attempt to dry ourselves, it’s clear that some
are becoming delirious with dehydration. We’ve watched the fire die twice now without
any attempts to save it. Spirits are low. I can feel the group breaking.
18:40:
Summer sausage cooked
over a fire is one of the greatest things in the world. I’m not sure what the
suggested serving size is, but I devoured half of it in one sitting. Everyone
seems to be in a better mood now that we’ve got some food in us. Kyle and
Hunter have constructed some boot hanging mechanism over the flames in an
attempt to dry their shoes. My old boots simply never dry out once wet, so I’ll
keep them away from the fire.
19:17:
It’s been drawn to my
attention that I’ve inadvertently covered my face in soot. I suppose dragging
charred dead wood to the fire put soot all over my hands, and I have a terrible
habit of touching my face. The coal miner and black lung jokes have begun.
19:33:
Hunter was busily
taking pictures of the fire when we all suddenly noticed that it had gotten
MUCH brighter around camp. Upon closer inspection, we discovered Hunter’s snake
boots had burst into flames while drying over the fire. Unable to stomp out the
flames barefoot, those sitting next to him threw sand in an attempt to smother
the raging inferno. Delirious with a mixture of exhaustion and dehydration,
Kyle and I could do nothing but offer hysterical laughter. Mitch’s boot laces
were also torched in the flames. Much of my soot covered face is clean thanks
to my tears.
20:41:
After discovering my
headlamp has stopped working, I’ve opted to face plant. Just the thought of
walking or carrying my thousand pound pack will surely put me to sleep. Ian,
Kyle, and Rob are having an intense conversation about blue Gatorades outside
my tent.
March 1st,
2014. 07:10
Everything I own is
wet. I will never again know the feeling of being completely dry. Somehow, even
with the rain fly on, my tent gathered dew on the inside. This place continues
to defy logic. Upon exiting my tent, I caught Rob licking the morning dew from
his hammock. The water situation is becoming dire. I gave him a swig from my
canteen.
07:45:
We just broke camp and
are on our way back down the road. Our goal is to get as close to the pick-up
vehicle as possible, then strike camp and hunt for the evening. First things
first, we must escape this watery hell. The roads hold standing water, and it’s
going to be another wet day.
12:18:
We’ve covered remarkable
distance since leaving camp this morning. We actually made it to the road that
our pick up vehicle is parked on. Spirits are much, MUCH higher and we’ve
stopped for lunch on the side of the road. In an attempt to get my pack to
weigh less than a ton, I’m eating as much food as possible. The land here is
dry and with any luck we’ll not only find a good campsite, but also some game
to eat. Everyone’s diving into their food reserves with ravenous hunger. We
need to find some pigs.
13:50:
We saw a squirrel;
something so rare that everyone but Hunter and Mitch stood around dumbfounded.
Those two gave chase but were too late. The mythical beast had escaped. It was
the first sign of life we’d seen since yesterday’s massive tadpole incident. We’ve
high hopes that that wasn’t the only squirrel in the forest. They’d go great
with blue Gatorades.
14:31:
By the grace of The
Almighty himself, a suitable campsite has been found. There’s plenty of room
for everyone, and enough firewood to have an actual fire tonight. The sudden
lack of water is of slight concern as Rob and Hunter are dangerously low. How
we ventured from a watery hell to this dry, barren wasteland, I’ll never
understand.
15:40:
Everyone has broken up
into small groups to look for game. I found a lizard, but doubted I’d find it
should I hit it with the slug from my shotgun. It was too fast for me to catch.
My hunger grows.
17:37:
I’ve given up on
hunting for the evening and have decided to get the fire started at camp. I
left Ian, Kyle, and Rob to continue looking for food. Hunter and Mitch are off
somewhere…Hopefully not lost forever again. I did just hear a shot. Perhaps
they’ve slain another tadpole.
17:55:
The fire is roaring
and I’m busily eating every last bit of food in my pack. Somehow, it continues to
gain weight despite my best efforts. My summer sausage is almost completely
gone, as is most of my water. What little I have left I’m saving for the hike
out in the morning. Ian, Kyle, and Rob are here and they too have begun to chow
down. Kyle managed to kill a lizard with his knife. He, at least, won’t starve
tonight. Hunter and Mitch are still
missing.
18:24:
Hunter and Mitch have
made it back, and with food! A real life, honest to God squirrel. He’s
currently cleaning it. He also brought water, though I’m unsure how safe it is
to drink. Apparently pulled from a rotten stump, it still has the color of
Jagermeister. I’ll just keep sipping my water and pretend it’s blue Gatorade.
18:46:
Even split six ways,
that was the best squirrel any of us have ever eaten. Spirits couldn’t be
higher. As I stare into the flames, I can’t help but feel thankful. This trip
was almost over and today had been infinitely better than yesterday. I’m overly
thankful not only for the chance to do such a trip, but for having good friends
crazy enough to follow me through such a mess. Though the trip has been a
little rough, everyone seems glad to be on it. The only thing that could make
life better right now is some blue Gatorades.
21:15:
The fire has begun to
die down and everyone has retreated to their tents. Tomorrow will be a short
morning hike to the car and a relaxing afternoon in civilization. Everyone
seems eager to get home.
21:27:
There’s talk amongst
the tents of Gainesville. Promises that we’re within two hours of sitting
happily at a bar with a tall beer, or even blue Gatorade. The debate on making
a night hike out of the woods to the car is underway right now.
21:30:
The decision has been
made. The night hike is a go. Camp is to be broken immediately.
21:32:
I’ve never seen a camp
broken so quickly. Tents are packed back up and everyone’s ready to go. My pack
suddenly feels like it weighs nothing.
21:54:
We were reminded that
many of us had yet to fire their weapon during this entire trip. We took a
brief moment to empty pistol clips into a nearby tree. One cannot simply escape
the wild and still have all their ammo.
22:15:
I’ve never night hiked
before. The sliver of moon overhead lights the path in front of me and the pale
sugar sand of the road marks the way home as it glows in the night. My headlamp
is still broken, but I can see fine without it. The stars are out and with the
sun gone, it’s beginning to get cool. The chilly night breeze feels great and
the soft rustling of the nearby trees are only broken by rhythmic swishing of
boot steps in soft sand. We’ll be to the car before we know it.
22:50:
Never before have full
grown men been more excited to see a Honda CRV. We all quickly crammed inside
and are now on our way to find blue Gatorades.
23:00:
The Dollar General in
Ft. McCoy is closed. Much like Little Lake George wilderness, there is no logic
in this place. I’m not sure whether it’s the stump water talking, but Hunter
seemed physically hurt to discover he couldn’t get blue Gatorades yet.
23:25:
I’m not sure how out
of the norm it is for a group of disheveled, and grungy looking guys to stagger
into a gas station in Palatka Florida at nearly midnight and empty the cooler
of its blue Gatorades. But I fear it wasn’t too bizarre as the cashier barely
blinked an eye at us. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that it feels
good to be out of the woods. The ride back to Gainesville won’t take too long,
but I doubt any of us will be going to the bar when we return. I think it’s
going to be straight to bed.
We survived Little
Lake George wilderness and despite some troubles, honestly had a blast. Had it
not been for the great group of friends, the trip would have been sheer misery.
But with the right group of people, we managed to turn a trip like that into a
great time and certainly a hunting trip none of us will forget anytime soon. I’m
sure we’ll try something like that again soon, but next time we’ll be sure to
pack a little lighter, walk a little easier, and stay a little drier.
Oh, and bring blue
Gatorades.
