Newnan's Lake - Northwest

As I've intimated before, Newnan's has different personalities depending on where you put in. The NW quadrant is only part I had not visited, so I jumped at a friend's offer to put in at his place and had anticipated it for weeks. So by the time I pulled up his yard, there was nothing that was going to stop me from getting into the lake--including 20 yards of thick, scratchy vegetation that I had to will myself through. I have no idea what it is, but ants and at least five different species of spider absolutely love it. I am still picking dried bits of it out of my hair as I write this.

By the time I broke on through to the other side--bravely trailblazing a path for my paddling companions--I saw that this part of Newnan's displayed its lower levels more than any other. Barrier tussocks line the entire NW edge and we mostly stayed between them and shore, as the sun was still fierce at 530PM. Dead hydrilla lined the surface in clumps, and we were greeted by a strange array of trash, some of apparently freed from decades long bondage. I grabbed a floating Coke can with a pull tab, something I had not seen since the late '80s.

On the north shore, the lake changed once again, as the water cleared and the tussocks became less prominent. We found a creek that I haven't been able to locate on any map and paddled into its dark canopy. My friend's canoe drew too much water to make it very far, but I was able to progress down a few hundred yards or so until fallen trees prevented further exploration. My wetlands scientist friend has told me tales of snakes dropping into boats in places like these, and I must admit I would have welcomed such drama. As I told him, the more I paddle, the more wilderness I crave.

We took the open lake back to where we entered, which was thankfully next to a gathering of lily pads, else we probably wouldn't have found it before dark. The sun blinded us to everything above the surface, but not to the occasional gator bubble trails. I've been told that Newnan's gators have adapted to the hunters, staying farther offshore than they are accustomed to take advantage of the numerous avenues of escape that open water provides. In fact, we saw none between the shore and the tussocks, only on the open water.


Most jets taking off from and landing at Gainesville Regional Airport bank over Newnan's, and we saw several (some of which I mistaked for airboats). I wonder if they can see us there below tooling around, noticing how Great Blue Herons are loners and ibises always travel in twos.