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Saline Bayou and Upper Saline Lake

A Veteran's Day Solo Trip Report by Peyton (Louisiana)

I had a great 4 day Veterans' Day solo trip on the lower part of Saline Bayou ( 19 miles) and upper Saline Lake (8 miles) here in north central Louisiana. Most of this steep sided hardwood bottomland creek is in the 'National Wild and Scenic River System' and is a joy to paddle, especially in the fall. The lake is a wonderland of dark water, thick cypress and tupelo gum, with spanish moss lending a mysterious quality to every sound or movement. The hardwoods are about 2 weeks past their best in the autumn fireworks show of colors. And, while the water was low, the weather could not have been nicer.

Thursday 11-11-99
Water temp 72 ; Air temp 45 (will probably be 80 by noon); fair skies with low humidity and a big high pressure keeping everything in place. I always seem to leave the put-in thinking over this mental checklist of things I hope I have not forgotten. This exercise seems to last right on up to the time I need something and either have the item, or don't have the item. It makes no difference. After that first need, with its associated search, I quit thinking about the stuff and start enjoying the trip. The first part of this trip will be about 3 miles down to the Pearfield. I am in no particular hurry whatsoever for the next 4 days. With the low water there will be lots of good campsite possibilities. Deer hunting gets underway for real this weekend but not until Saturday. By then I will be down to the open water portion of the lake and should not be bothered by the deer hunters at all. Of course, the duck hunters will be out for their early morning rituals beginning on Saturday as well. We'll see how it goes.

This is my first camping trip with this boat. Another paddlewiser and I did a boat swap a couple months ago. He's getting into whitewater, and at age 51 I'm getting further from it at every put-in. ( ...risk homeostasis in action, I suppose ! ) I usually use my old Sea Lion, or an OT 169 canoe for multi-day trips like this. But, I have been paddling this Spectrum for a few short day outings and find I like it. It seems nicely suited to some of these twisty creek channels and still does okay on the open water stretches too. Like I say, this is my first run with it.

...I come round a blind narrow bend and surprise 4 large whitetail doe just entering the creek to swim across. They startle and snort and begin swimming down the creek. The deer are not in a panic, just swimming straight down the middle of the creek ...two abreast and in a tight group. I close to within 20 feet or so and one of the deer repeatedly looks back. Not in a panic yet, but just keeping an eye on me. She clears water from her nostrils in quick wet blasts. I have this mental image of me, kayak, and deer forming a "crazy bayou Santa Claus scene". I give them my best "Hee-yaah !", and now things begin to happen. They immediately turn back to the riverbank they had left from and leave the water in short order. One of them stops right at the brush line for a long, frozen, motionless departing look.

...A loud ruckus made by some angry crows catches my attention and I swap bagel for binoculars to get a better look. A large red-tail hawk is getting the worst of a mid-air dogfight with 3 crows. I don't know what the hawk had done, or had tried to do, but he was definitely paying the price for it ! Those 3 crows dogged that hawk unmercilessly as he tried to make an honorable retreat. Divebombing and fast flybys kept the hawk upside down for most of the time and in a swirl the rest of the time. Air-combat with sound effects, it was neat!

...Sunset time is spent observing the world from my hammock. Everything looks more in focus to me if observed from a hammock it seems. A light evening breeze kicks up and rustles the dry leaves so gently that if you close your eyes you can hear a rainshower sound so realistic that you swear you must be getting wet. It is a nice sunset. Not spectacular without clouds to give it depth, but more a changeable pallette of infinite shades of reds and oranges in slow procession.

Friday 11-12-99
Water 73 ; Air 42
Today will be a longer travel day. I am planning on 2 nights at the next campsite down below the 156 crossing. I want to get there in time to set up camp and cook without a rush. The old adage about an army traveling on its stomach holds true for this old Marine as well. I'm hungry already just thinking about cabbage&potatoes with hot-water cornbread for supper tonight. I am usually a well provisioned paddler. Most of my trip planning goes into thinking about what to eat right after breakfast and just before supper. Oh yeah, I occasionally get the munchies while out star gazing too ! My boat is always weighted much too heavily with food and kitchen related gear, but old habits are hard to break.

...I need a leg stretch so I look for a break in this long line of brown thatch grass. The water is shallow, but firm ground is still several hundred feet away and blocked by a full season's growth of tall thick-stemmed grasses. A small cut appears and I glide through the clear narrow chute into a small pocket of open water behind the grassy wall. Suddenly the air is filled with a few short, sharp, squawk sounds. I think baby cranes, or something ...yeah, right ...or something. The sound of these terse sharp squawks grows louder and soon I am hearing a dozen or more "points of noise", but can see nothing. Suddenly, it dawns on me ...baby alligator ! The hair on the back of my neck ripples. I mean REALLY RIPPLES ! The grass wall is over my head by 24 inches and here I am sitting in this small sided boat in shallow water with baby alligator squawking not 10 feet away. Is that their freightened squawk ? Have they mistook the gliding shadow of my kayak for MOM ? Where is MOM ? I scan the grass line but can see nothing. Then I notice my big knife is not where it should be. No problem ...the water is too shallow for much of a gator to approach submerged. Geez, I wish those things would SHUT UP ! Hmmm, let's see how my backstroke works. Fine, I am pleased to say; straight, true, and strong! ...oh yeah, swift too!

...The yellow glow of my small kickfire is swallowed by the blackness of the evening. A large after supper canteen cup of my favorite Chianti has me not only at one with the universe, but more importantly at one with my hammock. The dark onyx sky is studded with priceless diamonds. The temperature has begun to drop. Might even be a hint of frost in the morning considering this clear sky. Not a single mosquito in 2 days. I had my shirt off most of the day and can feel the skintight sharpness of a slight sunburn on my back pressing against the hammock. No wake up call for tomorrow is anticipated.
Saturday 11-13-99
Water 70 ; Air 39
Shotgun noise provides an unwelcome alarm clock much too early this morning. I had forgotten about the duck hunters. I spend most of the morning walking the shoreline. With the low water there is a nice clean open path between brush and water that is usually not there. We've been weeks without a decent rain and the footing is secure and mostly dry. I spend some time observing a beaver lodge. This guy's got water at his place. He has a 100 yard long retainer wall toward the end of a narrow cove. It's leaking some, but still manages to hold a nice pool around his home. Quite a feat, indeed. Hmmm, you don't have to mow or rake WATER that surrounds a home, do you. I'll have to think about this some more later on.

...I introduce myself to this old lady who comes to fish down here "ever-day", she says. We talk about the dry weather and how easy it is to get in here with the road not muddy and slick. She is 68 she says, almost bragging, and prides herself on being able to catch fish "enny-time I want'em", she claims. She uses an old metal folding chair with a tractor umbrella jammed down into the sand as her 'spot'. Several light weight spinning rods make up her arsenal and she talks non-stop. I listen, but keep walking slowly past her and up into the next cove leaving her to fish the point alone.

On my way back by a couple hours later I jokingly ask, "Did you catch me some fish for supper ?"

She gives me her best poker faced stare and says, "If you clean mine, I'll give ya a couple." I look in her bucket and she's got some nice twohanded white perch in there.

"You want'em scaled or fileted ?", I ask.

Man-o-man, a brace of saddle-blankets for supper tonight! Mmmm, wrap those puppies in foil with some lemon pepper and a splash of Worstershur sauce ...worchestershir ...woostershire ...WHATEVER! I think I even have a couple potatoes left too. I bet I'm running low on chianti though!

...The wind picks up mid afternoon and becomes a stiff steady northerly breeze . I hear geese but they are a mile high and moving. Even with binocs they are hard to track. One large flight of blues and specklebellies is having lots of trouble with their formation. They get it all together and then skein off uneven and ragged after only a few seconds. I am intrigued at the group dynamics going on there. It reminds me of my office at work and how GREAT a regular 3 day workweek would be ! Perhaps the wind is causing the geese problems that I can only imagine. When I see geese, and especially when I hear them honk, it always makes me want to travel, to go somewhere, anywhere. But, I am not ready to travel out of this long weekend just yet. I only have about 4 miles to make Sand Point tomorrow. With this northerly breeze it could turn colder, but not a hint of rain.

Sunday 11-14-99
Water 71 ; Air 39
No frost, no dew, no clouds, no wind ...what a marvelous morning. The kickfire begins to catch up and burn smoothly with a thin plume of smoke rising quickly. The warmth feels good to my backside. Sharp, bright sunlight is beginning to brighten the tall green pine tops while lingering morning shadows keep the forest floor and lakeside shrouded and muted in color. The lake water is dark, smooth, and still. I like this time of sunlight in the early mornings, and also in the late afternoons too ...longshadows time. It's one of those mornings when you boil the coffee into syrup ...twice !

...Everything packs so much easier late in a trip. Sure, there is a lot less bulk weight of food stuffs, but I use old plastic peanut butter jars for lots of storage, so much of the original volume is still there. Only now stuffed with trash paper or plastic. I wish everyone hauled out their trash. Imagine it, no litter ...nowhere ! Still, after a day or two, things just seem to nestle back into their proper place for carrying a lot easier than at the beginning of a trip. Or so it seems.

...I hate to shove off. The boat is loaded, my bladder is empty, and I have absolutely no reason for not moving out. I straddle the boat and sit down just behind the cockpit. Sunshine is fast warming the day, but for now a vest still feels pretty cozy. I walk back up and check the fire ashes one more time. A glance-around confirms that everything is okay. Not much water time left. I'll probably make pretty good time to the take-out and then I can stretch my hammock out one more time. Geez, what a wonderful Veterans Day holiday it has turned out to be.

...adieu, mes amies ...Peyton (Louisiana)


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