Mammoth in the Swamp, Day 2

 Wednesday 6/1

We took the blow-up boat down to the boat ramp and launched it from the courtesy dock. Trying out our new electric pump. It hooks to the Jeep's battery terminals...weird. The owner's guide said that was the only way for them to get sufficient current.

I think I saw a Black-and-White warbler on a tree trunk by the water, other than that I saw no birds to speak of. Just Mississippi Kite, a possible Osprey flying high toward the lake; American Crow, Fish Crow, and the usual. Several sightings of Pileated Woodpecker and some smaller woodpecker, too.

The current in Big Cypress Bayou was pretty much nonexistent. Whether we were going upstream or down, the current was not helping. And the wind blew against us in both directions, too. How is that possible?

Anyway, we went downstream a ways and began seeing houses, most of which looked abandoned. But maybe they were just in poor repair. So we went upstream and paddled around in the pond for a while. That was mind-alteringly beautiful...all huge cypress, lily pads, reflective water---like a mirror you make out of a sheet of glass with a black curtain hanging over it. Mysterious bubbles arose from the murk and spoke to a teeming life underneath.

Then we went on upstream to the bridge. There were lots of houses of there--nice ones, mostly, with boat docks and boats of all descriptions.

Coming back downstream, we had to work as hard as we did going up, but that was the end of it. By the time we were getting close to the dock, it was time to pull in, I anticipated my arms and shoulders would be very tired next day.

In the afternoon Molly and I took a couple of walks on the various trails. It was very hot, and I almost lounged in my chair until falling asleep...but something got me moving. Mostly the birds--every time my eyelids would start to close, another unknown bird song would jolt them awake.

So out we went. We took the CCC Cut Through trail, which proves to me that those CCC guys were young, healthy and energetic. The trail went straight up the highest hill around. With lots of stairs, see: [pic]

It crossed the road and ended at a Pine Ridge trail, which we followed to the cabins and then on to the front entrance. There we tried to get a drink of water, but there wasn't a dog watering station and the drinking fountains were turned off. I believe public drinking fountains will soon become an artifact of history, although replacing them with water bottle filling stations would be a welcome change.  The plumbing is already installed.

The trail was gorgeous, hugging a high ridge (25' or so) next to a runoff sort-of "almost" creek. And narrow. And full of big trees.

 Didn't take this detour--

On the way I heard a lot of birds but only saw a few--titmice, prothonotary warblers, and some strange yellow-throated warbler with a white undertail and dark head.  It could have been a female prothonotary, I guess.  Then we passed through a thicket with a strange sound emanating from the dense viney underbrush. From the book's description, it was almost completely certainly a yellow-breasted chat. (They skulk in dense undergrowth and make strange noises)

But I never saw it...and I tried, really I did.

We returned to camp so Molly could get a drink, then headed out again after a bit. This time we went to the boat ramp and took the Caddo Forest trail. It was an "interpretive trail", with signage pointing out an awesome black walnut tree, an American Pawpaw, some type of pine tree which is common here and I unfortunately don't remember, and other stuff. there were bird songs that sounded like Summer Tanager but I didn't see them. At one point a Wood Thrush serenaded us--so loverly.
Sadly, I got interrupted with phone calls and it ruined the walk for me. But that's my own fault for having the phone turned on.

The trail ascended steps, a lot of them, but at the top we found a surprise destination--a CCC pavilion. On the side of a hill with a bit of view (of woods!), it was an well-build, very old shelter. Quite nice. Would have been a good spot for overnighting in the woods, especially in rain.

As usual, the trails were more than less empty of other people. Again proving my theory--no matter how crowded the "attractions" may be; no matter how full the parking lots; not matter how busy the roads...as soon as you venture off the accessible areas, you'll find solitude. Not the serious solitude experienced by people like Colin Fletcher, who hiked the length of the Grand Canyon and saw no other humans for weeks on end, but the sort of solitude where you can pick your nose, scratch your butt, or wee in the woods and not worry about onlookers.

As we were approaching the boat ramp on our return trip, we did see a man walking his dog on the offshoot of the trail that turned to the right. But we weren't going that way, and as soon as they saw us they turned back. I don't know if it was accident or purpose, but it worked.

My theory won't hold true everywhere, but in most of the places where Ed and I go, it's more often true than not. You'll see people sitting in their campsites, fishing, and in the evenings, walking to the boat ramps or scenic spots. But more often you see them getting into or out of their cars to go to those places.