arrived at Ocmulgee by 9:30 am
The sky was a little grey,
The water was a little up,
And I was way siked for this...dude???
I kept remembering the sound and smell of my mom cooking bacon and eggs on the kerosene camp stove on a cement picnic table while we walked along the edge of the water with dad and watched the sun come up. No salty grease and collesterol for me this morning. I had two big blueberry muffins and a bottle of water. I thought about the bacon and eggs all day, though.
The creek was magical, the boat my transport.
After about 50 yards the creek T'd. The leaves on the surface told me the current was going right so right I went. I scanned the banks for signs of gators but found signs of man instead. Here and there were the artifacts of favorite fishing sites; a Y-shaped stick smashed in the ground, empty beer bottles, an over turned bucket.
The creek became swamp and I followed the leaves again. Then it turned narrow, winding and ditch-like. The occasional tree growing in the center like the school crossing guard trying to hold back the flow of traffic.
One tree had fallen over and lay completely across the creek. I was able to wedge the kayak under while I scambled over.
At the entrance to the Ocmulgee sat a boat of fishermen. They gazed at me open mouthed, a kind of amazement and disgust. "What's she doing out here?" and "She better not scare away our fish with all that paddling."
I left them snickering at my foolishness as I entered the river.