Showing posts with label Mike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mike. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Survivalman 2: Return to the Fakahatchee

Sequels never live up to the original but when it comes to my adventures with Mike in the Fakahatchee Strand of the Everglades, how can things not improve over the tale of survival from August of 2007?

Mike emailed me a few weeks ago and said he was heading down from Vermont and wanted to face his fears in the Fakahatchee. We had planned on meeting last year to search for 2 rare ferns in the 80,000 acre wilderness and instead he spent a rain-soaked night in the Everglades, listening to bellowing alligators and fearing the consequences of drinking water filtered through his own shirt. It was a life or death experience and now he was hoping to put that nightmare in the past and finally get to searching for the rare ferns we had hoped to find a year ago.

South Florida Jane's Scenic Drive in the Fakahatchee Strand State Park Our 3/10 miles bushwhack GPS track to "the pond" Jane's Scenic Drive
For most people - an invitation to walk knee deep in tannin-stained waters in a remote Everglades swamp with mosquitoes, high heat and humidity and a clausterphobically dense forest would be met with a resounding "no", but with a name like JunglePete, I have to say yes. Our plan was to bushwhack 3/10 of a mile to a pond where 2 rare ferns have been reported. This is no easy task. MaLe and I attempted a similar hike last year during the drought and the tangles of vines, briers, poison ivy and all around thick vegetation make any forward movement a momentous struggle. It took us 2 hours to go 1/2 miles.
Mike was waiting for me when I arrived at teh Ranger station and we drove out the 9 miles to the "trailhead". With cameras, gps, water and Mike's compass we set off for the pond. When Mike asked if I was ready I hesitantly agreed and stepped into 2 feet of surprisingly cool water. It was 9 am. Our judgement will no doubt be called into question when I point out the Water Moccasin pictured below. The snake held its ground before retreating a slow slither back into a rotted out cypress stump. We were well aware of all the dangers and were vigilant in watching every step. This place is truly the land of the lost. Pop Ash, Maples and Pond Apples are well adorned with bromiliads, orchids and vines. Every root, branch and tree trunk is a place for a fern, mushroom or flower to grow. There is little open space as everything competes to survive.

After an hour of slogging through ankle deep water, I paused to look around, giving our second Water Moccasin a chance to slither between the two of us. I shouted an expletive, jumped backwards and watched it swim into a small cypress hammock. My heart racing, I quickly and carefully waded up to Mike. After 90 minutes we began to hear the bellowing of alligators coming from the pond - loud territorial growls intended to keep us at bay. Had any of these alligators ever seen a human before? It's possible they hadn't but like any well behaved alligator, they took to the water and ceased their grumbling. The age old question is answered below. Bears do poop in the woods. That was one big turd. After 4 hours of listening to buzzing, swatting at bugs and sweating through my long-sleeved shirt, I was exhausted. The search for our ferns had been unsuccessful and torn and tattered we began to head back through the tangle of trees. My safari tour hat has suffered greatly - here appearing bent, soaked and dirty. As we dragged ourselves back through the swamp, Mike shouted out. This was something I had gotten used to, but was never sure if it was for a wild animal, a poisonous plant or an exclamation of joy. It turns out that after giving up, we had accidentally stumbled on the rare "Bird's Nest Fern". It looks similar to the common Strap Fern with a few subtle differences. To the common person it no doubt looks like any other green leaf and I wouldn't expect the image of it to change readers world. But after 4+ hours of searching it was truly exciting for us. Thoroughly pleased, we continued on and had just gotten under way when Mike said "Wait - here it is". And there it was - our 2nd rare fern species. An unassuming little thing that even I thought looked like every other green leafy thing. There is a great wilderness here and there can be little doubt that there are other rare species if not completely new species of ferns, flowers, insects and other living things. I wondered how such things could be found. We might have passed over something unknown. Mike said to me later - "You see what you know". Everything else is a mystery to be solved and something new to learn.
Mike suggested he couldn't have gotten anyone else willing to share that experience. You have to be a little nuts. But I couldn't be happier to have had the 2nd chance to get back out there. I'd say the sequel was much better.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Frogger: A Night in the Everglades

Who wants to go to the Everglades at night? (Survivalman Mike might say no at this point). Wanna go on an airboat? Would you go on an airboat in the Everglades at night? That's exactly what I've proposed as a new addition to our Everglades tours and just a few nights ago we ventured out on a test run to assure we could do this safely.

I called the boss an hour before the trip and recommended that if we don't return to nix the plan. He agreed, wished us well and we set out for Sunset Airboat Tours on the Miccosukee Indian Reservation. Fellow guide (and stand up comedian) Dwayne Cunningham and I hatched this plan months ago, but before we unveil our new excursion we wanted to do a trial run - from the docks, across the sawgrass prairie and out to the Miccosukee Indian "hammock" (or island) and back. Airboat captain Regis, equipped with a headlamp similar to those used by the glades froggers, pushed us away from the dock and steered us off into the night.

30 miles east, the sky over Miami glowed orange and as we headed west into the darkness, an abundance of fireflies and click beetles used their bioluminescence to blink their photonic aphrodisiac to attract the opposite sex.


The ride was slower than usual and chillier than usual. Regis suggested the headlamps worked fine but we could have used a bit more light. I suggested doing the trip during the day.
But once we stepped off the boat and onto the Indian island, the airboat prop stuttered to a stop and the cacophony of Pickerel Frogs, Pig Frogs, Narrow-mouthed Toads, Green Tree Frogs and Mink Frogs provided a spectacular symphony that made the trip worthwhile. Walking the boardwalk, each few steps brings you to a new amphibian neighborhood where a new species dominates their tiny patch of swamp. With all of the noise you'd think it'd be easy to find them. We spotted one.

On our way out and back we caught the reflection of the orange-eyed alligators (which is simply a reflection of our lights off the reflective surface at the back of their eye called the tapetum lucidum). They feed at night on fish and whatever else they can easily chomp and swallow. We ain't on the menu.

In all it was a great trip and certainly one I hope we can start sooner than later. And you're welcome to come along.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

An Everglades follow up from Mike (and my Mt.Equinox Nightmare)

Hi Pete,
I want to thank you for all you did for me - you were in frequent communication with my wife and you alerted the proper authorities in Collier County. And after I was rescued and I drove out to the park office, there you were waiting for me. You're a great friend, thank you again.
I'd also like to thank the police and rescue teams. They were professional and kind and searched in a safe, scientific manner.

Some low points:
  • Not being able to find the trail on Sat. morning, walking in a large circle, feeling dehydration set in, feeling panic set in, and collapsing in weakness.
  • Hearing the rescue helicopter at 3 am but not being able to get to the pond in total darkness before it left.
  • Seeing the helicopter again at 8 am but not being able to successfully signal it.
  • Being continually hounded by mosquitoes.

Some high points:

  • Finding the gator hole with water later on Sat. morning. This was the only water I came across, including on the rescue walk out. The gator hole was an oasis in the abnormally dry strand. It was occupied by numerous alligators, turtles, frogs, insects and birds. It provided me a home for over 24 hr. It saved my life. Without it I would have had no water, no open view to the sky, and I would not have been seen by the helicopter crew.Having such well-behaved alligators! The big one to my left and all the others kept their places around the pond and I kept mine.
  • Being rescued!

I also want to apologize to all of my family and friends for the worry I caused them. This incident occurred because of what I did early Saturday morning - I left the old tram road and bushwhacked without having the proper equipment with me.

In November of 2005, as per my obligations to the Equinox Preservation Trust in Manchester Vermont, I set out with EPT President Rich Heilemann to hike the "Blue Trail" on Mount Equinox and clear the blowdowns. The trail is one of the steepest ascents in the state, rising from 1000 feet in the valley to the peak at 3800+ feet.

It's enough to climb the thing, but we were carrying a chainsaw, fuel, chaps, wedges, oil and saws to remove trees that had come down long before in one of the mountain's typical wind storms. It has snowed an unusual amount that November, so we had the added difficulty of tromping through snow.

Earlier that year I had been bitten by a deer tick and subsequently come down with Lyme Disease which I struggled with through the summer. By fall I had a few lasting effects; headaches, joint pain and breathing issues which linger to this day. But half way up that mountain that day, the pain became so great that the thought of lifting the chainsaw was nearly unbearable. Each step burned through my muscles and my joints strained like tree limbs in an ice storm. My head pounded and could barely breathe at times. I should have turned around. I felt there was shame in doing so and I continued, Rich carrying the chainsaw as I dragged myself upward. As we neared the 3000' level, Mike appeared. No doubt in search of ferns beneath the snow and for the life of me I can't remember if he was going up or coming down. He asked if he could help, selflessly setting aside his plans for the day and assisted for well over 90 minutes as we removed a 60 foot Spruce that had come down straight down the trail.

Walking down was no easier, but Rich and Mike traded off carrying my equipment as I slowly plodded down the steep and slushy trail.

It was one of the most physically challenging things that I have done and I've always been appreciative of Mike and Rich for their help that day. Wheather they knew how badly off I was or not, they probably kept me from a visit to the hospital or worse.

Just felt like telling you all that. For what it's worth.