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Tour de Flood

Sam and I went kayaking today — well, almost.  There was no possibility of kayaking on the Santa Fe or Suwannee Rivers: flood stage.  So we decided, boats on the roof, that we’d check out all the flooded river put-in points that for the past 4-5 months we’ve seen draining and draining, drying up in a scary way.

We started in High Springs, at the Highway 441 boat ramp.  There were police blockades on the road, making sure no one drove into the river, I guess, so we parked and walked up, into a small crowd of people just watching and marveling at how quickly the drought had turned into a flood (courtesy of Sub-Tropical Depression Debby).

Flood @ Three Rivers Estates

Got to talking to folks about the water level, and then we took off across High Springs to the Highway 27 boat ramp, appreciating how the water was almost up to the bridge.  We investigated, talked to more folks, and determined that there was maybe enough room between the river and the bridge for a kayak — but not with anyone in it.

Then onto Rum Island, where two Florida Wildlife Commission cops in a powerboat had pulled a kayaker off the water for safety’s sake (we talked to the kayaker, and he was a little crazy).

Rum Island, FWC boat, John’s kayak

Mr. Kayaker, whose name was John, told Sam and me that he’d put into the river at the Highway 27 boat ramp, but DOWNSTREAM from the bridge, of course — couldn’t have got him and his boat under  the bridge.

Next stop Hollingsworth Landing (under water). A sheriff deputy asked us, “Are those y’all’s kayaks?”


“You’re not planning on taking them into the water, are you?”

“No, we’re only 68% crazy.”  The deputy seemed satisfied, allowing that there were plenty of people crazy enough to go on the water even at the dangerous-looking flood stage.  I wished him a quiet day, and he ruefully said he didn’t think that would happen.

Then on to Santa Fe River Park, Poe Springs, and O’Leno State Park.  More of the same, with  interesting conversations galore. Everywhere we went was like a party, people coming out in force to see the river, to see the extent of the disaster.  Santa Fe River flood stage Woodstock (without the music, of course), a cultural event I’m glad I didn’t miss.


Beating Myself Up

Doing pretty much the regular training this week, this last week of Summer A vacay before Summer B classes begin on Tuesday, July 2.  (Been ready for weeks, tweaking the site little by little throughout May.  And today I worked on — believe it or not!– Fall semester syllabi.  Yikes.)

But I’m moving from my office-for-the-project apartment, back to the condo.  Been doing things a little at a time, though yesterday Sam and I did some heavy lifting and got quite a few things moved, as well as getting an impossibly-awkward desk down from the upstairs — ya know, around the corner, down the stairs, around another corner, and into the garage.

But running hasn’t entirely gone by the boards — I have 15 miles this week, not a lot, but there was the little matter of Sub-Tropical Depression Debby  (anyone else think that Sub-Tropical Depression would be a great name for a band?).  Got in some cycling today, looks like all I’ll get this week — scheduled to go kayaking tomorrow, and there’s some loose talk that Pam and I will try to clean out the garage on Saturday.

Haven’t done any strength training at the gym this week, but don’t need to, as the whole week has been about carrying heavy or even not-so-heavy things up and down stairs.

The year is half over on Saturday (June 30th), and I won’t quite have 500 miles; therefore, not quite on schedule to get the usual 1,000 running miles for 2012.  But maybe I’ll have beg months in October, November, and December.  Stranger things have happened; depends a lot on staying injury-free, mental-illness-free.