WAY DOWN UPONTHE SUWANNEE RIVER...
...where “the folks up north will see me no more when I get to
that Suwannee shore.”
It is those lines from the George Gershwin version of Stephen Foster’s song that rattled around my head as we launched our canoes that day.
This famous 266 mile long river drains the Okefenokee Swamp of southern Georgia and dumps its blackwater meanderings into the Gulf of Mexico in Florida’s Dixie County just north of Cedar Key.
In the top photo my boat partner Lynn Rush helped skillfully propel our canoe downstream while we both pondered the cross-stream, course selection of our expedition leaders—with a silent chuckle, of course.
Later we observed the large turtle in the second photo, basking on a mid-river log as we boated our oars and slid stealthily toward him; ranging to within mere feet before it splashed a hasty retreat into the slowly flowing water.
In the next photo we landed our canoes on one of the river’s countless white sand beaches and enjoyed a bit of lunch; never once seeing another human while we relished our six mile float downstream.
In the bottom photo a high-water mark is clearly visible on yet another, white sandy shore, showing the river’s normal water depth.
The river widens slowly as it wanders seaward, ultimately piercing the Lower Suwannee National Wildlife Refuge.
It is those lines from the George Gershwin version of Stephen Foster’s song that rattled around my head as we launched our canoes that day.
This famous 266 mile long river drains the Okefenokee Swamp of southern Georgia and dumps its blackwater meanderings into the Gulf of Mexico in Florida’s Dixie County just north of Cedar Key.
In the top photo my boat partner Lynn Rush helped skillfully propel our canoe downstream while we both pondered the cross-stream, course selection of our expedition leaders—with a silent chuckle, of course.
Later we observed the large turtle in the second photo, basking on a mid-river log as we boated our oars and slid stealthily toward him; ranging to within mere feet before it splashed a hasty retreat into the slowly flowing water.
In the next photo we landed our canoes on one of the river’s countless white sand beaches and enjoyed a bit of lunch; never once seeing another human while we relished our six mile float downstream.
In the bottom photo a high-water mark is clearly visible on yet another, white sandy shore, showing the river’s normal water depth.
The river widens slowly as it wanders seaward, ultimately piercing the Lower Suwannee National Wildlife Refuge.
Now, having experienced just hours adrift in this pristine and fabled river course it is easy to understand the song’s lyrics which celebrate the thought “...the folks up north will see me no more....”
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