Ocklawaha River - South From The Silver River

Years ago I paddled the Upper Withlacoochee when the river was at historic lows. For two days, I drifted past exposed caves and trees whose roots began five feet above my head. The water in the Ocklawaha is not that low, but it is low enough to reveal a network of cypress roots that would not be out of place in a Dr. Seuss book. In fact, the moment you turn off the well-traveled Silver River (yes, even on a weekday) and south into the Ocklawaha, everything changes: the current and traffic drop to nearly zero, the water turns to black, and the trees seem to be crawling out of the river. Strangeness and silence together are paradise to me, so I regretted this trip ending more than I have any of the others.

Every turn revealed a scene utterly unlike the one that preceded it. While one stretch would be narrow and littered with felled trees, the next would be wide and immaculate. Though it is geographically impossible, these changes preserved the illusion that this river would never end. I plan to find out for myself, very soon, if it does.

One can't help but be curious what the pre-Cross-Florida-Barge-Canal Ocklawaha was like. Back in the day, it was a major tourist destination for folks visiting Silver Springs, but then the Rodman Dam brought run-off from up and down its shores and it became a sad river, an example of our arrogance and bottomless appetite. The section I paddled this morning seems to be holding its own and, although I try to avoid humanizing bodies of water, the Ocklawaha has a dignity I haven't seen anywhere else.

Turning back upstream into the Silver River from the calm Ocklawaha is like being thrown into a washing machine. I can't imagine how many millions of gallons of water the springs thrust under my boat, but I can attest it does not flow in a straight line. Tiny whirlpools and giant uprushes of spring water appeared constantly and I often did not know whether to steer or paddle my way through. Back at the car, I watched at least five trailers unloading their boats. As always, timing is crucial on the water.

Tomorrow: Salt Springs Run.