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St. George Sound Fishing Report

November 6, 2020 by · Leave a Comment

St. George Sound Fishing Report and photo essay

Thank you for reading this St. George Sound fishing report. The post is long, with lots of photos. Save it for when you’re at work!

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In a shameless promotion, I’m respectfully requesting all readers to consider following spottedtailflyfish on instagram. I could use the help, thanks!

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The St George trip, which commenced early Sunday morning, was unusual for a number of reasons-

-not a raccoon did I see or receive a visit from, in four nights of primitive camping;

-from the time I got to St. George Island on Sunday until Thursday morning, the sky was completely cloudless;

-I slept in the tent without the fly on for four nights in a row without so much as a drop of dew. Seeing the night sky in bug- and water-free comfort was GLORIOUS.

toyota van

I’m thinking of naming the van “Boogaloo”. Here she is, ready to roll.

Drove through a cold front to get there, “there” being St. George Island State Park, (which everyone should visit- just sayin’.). Nothing like a strong cold front to enhance the skunk effect. Even so, after loading the kayak I paddled to an oyster bar, anxious to fly fish. Five minutes of casting produced a slot redfish on a Clouser minnow. BAM! Good way to start!

Home, sweet home.

Paddled to the primitive campground and started setting up. The wind carried a distinct odor of rotting shrimp, not something one cares to smell for an extended time. Searching for the source, I found a dead, decaying, maggot-encrusted and totally loathsome and gross dead shark washed up on the shoreline. Wanting no part of it, I returned to camp.

The odor was nauseating.

Shark corpse, exposed by a very low tide.

I found a stick, went back to the shark corpse, and used the stick to roll it into the water. I continued working it away from shore, poking a hole in its hide while doing so. Some gas bubbled out. The shark sank to the bottom. I tossed the stick as far as I could. Mission accomplished.

I saw two satellites from inside my tent before falling asleep.

A view from the tent. The bright “star” above and to the right of the moon is Mars.

The wind howled all night.

The morning was chilly. The water had been blown away from the shore, a mud flat extending out 100 yards or so. My friend the shark sat there. The sound looked like a washing machine.

St. George Sound looked like a washing machine.

No boating this day!

Some photos from a mostly no fishing day- berries…

 

…a monarch butterfly missing at least one leg…

I walked all around the area, even taking a spin rod (apologies to fly purists) and casting along the lee side of the island (as much lee as there was). Was surprised when I got a bite, a small flounder that kept the skunk at bay, the only fish of the cold, windy day.

…a fiddler crab (lots of these)…

 

…and a creepy old guy sitting on a bench.

I saw two satellites from inside my tent before falling asleep.

The morning saw a diminished (but still 10-15 mph) wind and a brisk 48 degrees. Felt warmer than the previous day. After breakfast I headed to Goose Island for some fly fishing. My earlier trips here had been quite successful.

How do you spell success? P-i-n-f-i-s-h

I worked it hard. My first four fish were, three pinfish and one sea robin. Finally, I got a slot trout, and shortly after another, larger one, maybe 20 inches, the best trout I would get. Searched hard for redfish, running over three and not getting a shot all day. Saw more kayakers than reds, not a good thing.

The ultimate high- sea robin on fly.

 

Best fish of the day, on a tan Clouser minnow.

 

Awesome eagle nest on Goose Island.

 

fly casting

Casting in front of camp.

I saw two satellites from inside my tent before falling asleep.

In the morning I decided to see new places. I had never gone east down the shoreline. Goose Island was pretty much a bust the previous day. Yeah, I know a front just went through, but still. Seeing new things is good, right?

I paddled three or four miles into a 10-15 mph wind to get to a small point. No, I did not do it in one hop. Yes, it was very hard work.

This spot (like Goose Island) looked awesome.

I grabbed the spin rod and waded to the edge of the flat. The first cast produced a trout. They came steadily, hovering near the bottom of the slot, with more below 15 inches than above.

While playing one, a big red, 15 or 20 pounds, came out of the green water and followed it right up to me. Yikes!

Sixty seconds later an even bigger red came cruising by, quite nonchalant. I dropped the rubber shad in front of him and BAM! Hooked up! And then a five- or six-foot long blacktip came out of the green water and started following that fish around. YIKES!

I was in water up to my derriere. I made for shallower stuff immediately.

Battling the beast. The shark has mercifully left the scene.

It’s hard taking a selfie while holding a fish. And it’s really hard taking a selfie while holding a fish that’s hard to hold with two hands, never mind just one. I got a photo, but it’s not very good, and certainly does not show the fish to its best effect. That fish was 25 or 30 pounds, a magnificent specimen. Why did I park the boat so far from where I was fishing??

Ecstatic with the fish, not so much with the picture.

After lunch I headed back to the spot with the fly rod. No more giants showed themselves. Two 14-inch trout on a Clouser minnow was it. Got back in the kayak and started floating back towards camp, tossing the shad into potholes in the grass.

One trout after another. Stupid easy fishing. No good ones, though.

Went near shore to see if any reds were there. Started running them over immediately. The sun was in my face and even though the water was clear and shallow and the bottom white sand, I couldn’t see them. Finally parked the boat and went wading.

Battling a lesser beast.

Spotted a fish, made the cast. The fish heard the fly hit the water and went to investigate. I love that response!!! Twitched the fly once- BAM! Since the boat was nearby and the good camera was available, I was able to get a decent photo of this one.

Love to sight fish for redfish!

 

The release.

 

The only way I can afford waterfront property.

I saw nine satellites from inside my tent this evening. Made me feel even more smug.

Packed up the next morning and paddled back to the car. Considered leaving the camp gear and fishing around Goose Island before leaving, but the wind was still 15 and it was only 60 degrees. Packed it in and made the long drive back to Chuluota.

It was a most excellent trip.

Thank you for reading this St. George Sound fishing report! Don’t forget to follow me on instagram!

Life is great and I love life!

Every day is a blessing. Don’t waste it- Go Fishing! or travel!

John Kumiski, author of Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide
Purchase Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide at http://www.spottedtail.com/fishing-florida-by-paddle/

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2020. All rights are reserved.

Filed Under: Fishing Reports, Photo Essays, travel blog · Tagged: , , , , ,

Sienna Mini-Camper Van- The First Trip

November 6, 2020 by · Leave a Comment

Sienna Mini-Camper Van- The First Trip

camper enjoying campfire
At our Davidson River campground site.

 

This blog post is about the Sienna mini-camper van- the first trip! It was to North Carolina and it was delightful!

The Plan

Our plan had several threads-

-stay off the interstate as much as possible
-visit Susan’s sister in Athens, Georgia
-visit Jim and Kathy Tedesco in western North Carolina
-hook up with John Gilbert
-go hiking
-go fishing
-and perhaps most importantly, test the livability of the mini-camper and make notes on necessary tweaks.

As a result of all of this, the post may be long for some readers. My apologies.

Plan Into Action

On a Friday morning we were loaded up and were off. Our goal that evening was Suwannee River State Park. We took SR 46 to US 441 to US 90. The construction on 46 made driving that portion unpleasant.

US 441 was a succession of ugly strip malls until we were past Ocala. After that it was lovely. We stopped at a pull-off at Paynes Prairie State Park. A boardwalk went out onto the lake there. Under the boardwalk was a large alligator. There were three guys there. One was leaning over the rail, arm extended, phone in hand, taking pictures of the alligator. I said to him, “Don’t drop your phone.” He said, “If I drop it, he can have it!”

pier, Paynes Prarie State Park
The pier at Paynes Prarie

 

alligator
Waiting for a telephone.

 

Lake City is not a place you’d want to visit.

 

 

Suwannee River State Park was pleasant. I’d had an idea of fishing there but the water was too high. We went for a short walk, with beautiful views of the confluence of the Suwannee and Withlacoochie rivers. We hadn’t budgeted much time there, not enough to see the place.

 

 

confluence of WIthlacoochie and Suwannee Rivers
At the confluence…

 

Susan, SRSP

Sleepy Time

Soon enough it was time to test the camper. I’d slept in it once but Susan had not. She suffers from claustrophobia. Would we have to turn around and go home?

We had too much stuff in the Sienna mini-camper van. The cooler took lots of our floor room, and her portapottie took the rest. I had hung a cargo net for our bulky clothes items. We laid down on the bed with our heads to the back of the van and she said, “I can’t do this.” “Do a spin!” I said. “Put your head at the other end.”

It worked. That’s how we sleep in the van now, with our heads forward.

The mattress that we bought on Amazon was awesome. We were very comfortable, even though the cargo net was in our faces.

On to Georgia

Due to the distance to Athens, we spent three hours on I-75 before hitting more back roads through some lovely Georgia countryside. The cotton was ripe in the fields. There were big bales of it, round, like hay bales. We didn’t stop, though- we had an agenda.

It was great seeing Kathleen, it had been a long time since I had. Visiting is weird in pandemic time. We sat outside, with masks on. No hugs, no kisses. Hopefully no COVID either. Two of Kathy’s children and some of her grandchildren were visiting too. The kids made happy noises until after dark, while we told stories, shared old memories, and laughed.

Davidson River

Susan and I slept in the van, and left for North Carolina the next morning. All beautiful back roads, with 15 MPH speed limits where the switchbacks were. Setting up camp once at Davidson River campground was a breeze- just prep the kitchen!

If I could have dialed up whatever weather I wanted for this trip, I could not have done as good a job as what we actually got. Cool, crisp nights, warm, cloudless, sunny days, just spectacular.

The next morning Jim Tedesco showed up with flies and fly rods, and waders for Susan. We all went fishing in the Davidson. Fishing wasn’t epic but we got a couple of trout and had a lot of fun. They day passed quickly, too much so.

on the Davidson

 

tiny rainbow trout
My soft hackle trout

 

Jim was there again the next morning. We went to Pink Beds hiking trail and took a five mile walk through autumn woods.

At the trailhead, Pink Beds

 

map of the trail, at the trailhead

 

Jim and Susan pose along the trail.

 

The autumn colors were beautiful.

 

This was a snack stop.

 

Another spot along the trail.

 

After lunch we went hiking up a tributary of the Davidson, wearing waders, carrying fly rods. We found some trout up there and on a dry fly I caught one of the smallest ones I ever have, little larger than a salmon smolt.

fly fishermen
Jim and Susan work a pool.

 

waterfall
This fall drops into the pool shown above.

 

Susan works a different pool.

 

Wednesday Jim and Kathy came to pick up Susan, and John Gilbert came to pick up me. Sue was going sightseeing, I was going fishing. Gilbert and I fished all morning, returning to the campsite for lunch. There was a magical moment there when a gust of breeze knocked a lot of leaves off the trees. We watched, spellbound, as the leaves drifted down like giant, colorful snowflakes falling from a cerulean sky.

fly fisherman
John Gilbert works a pool on the Davidson.

 

We fished all afternoon, too. Neither of us touched a fish all day. At least one of us didn’t care.

Back Roads Take Longer

Thursday saw Susan and I packing our van and rolling out. We intended to stay at Crooked River State Park in Georgia that night, again travelling by back roads.

These roads were really slow, at first because they were steep and curvy, and then because there were lots of small towns. At lunchtime we were a quarter of the distance we had to go. We had lunch at a local eatery in Clinton, South Carolina. Then we hit the interstate. As it was we pulled into our campsite at sunset, after a very long day in the van.

Heading Home

In the morning we pulled out, looking forward to sleeping in our bed at home that evening. We again took back roads, thus avoiding I-95 through Jacksonville.

For lunch we stopped at a fantastic little eatery in Palatka, Caribbean 450. I wish it was closer to home!

Things We Learned

A few of the things we learned on this trip-

-we need to learn how to better budget our time on the back roads. I think 200 or 250 miles is the most you can comfortably expect to drive in one day. If you want to stop and visit at interesting places, and we do, then it will be less.

-our cooler, an absolutely awesome Orion 65, kept our food cold with only two gallons of ice for the entire trip. Sadly, it’s just too big for the van. I think we need a small refrigerator.

–the cabinets were a must-have. They came in so handy!

-the cargo net needs to be moved further aft, if I can manufacture attachment points back there.

-most importantly, camping in the minivan is entirely viable. We had room for our clothes, cameras, fishing gear, books, computers, food and kitchen gear, books- everything we need to make an extended trip. And it’s comfortable!

We’re already planning another trip!

Special thanks go out to Jim and Kathy Tedesco and to John Gilbert for helping to make our trip so memorable!

A few facts from the trip-

Distance travelled- 1,427 miles

Average fuel economy for the Sienna- 22.9 miles per gallon

Expenditure for fuel- $125.27

Thanks for reading about our Sienna mini-camper van- the first trip!

 

No affiliate links are included in this blog. If/when we start adding them, we will add a disclaimer. All links are for the reader’s benefit.

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June 19, 2020 by · Leave a Comment

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Ode to Tarpon Fishing Report

June 5, 2020 by · Leave a Comment

Ode to Tarpon Fishing Report

Thank you for reading this ode to tarpon fishing report!

Tarpon Poem by John Kumiski

an ideal world
hot sun, blue sky, clear, slick water
sweat
a graphite wand, a sliver of steel, a wisp of feathers

a flash of silver breaks the mirror
then another, and another
feathers land in water
magically, they come to life

line tightens
mirror smashed
power

water flies, gills flare, body shakes, shudders
again, and again, and again
the beast tires
arms ache

hand grasps jaw
feathers removed
great fish swims free once more

tarpon
one of God’s gifts to fly fishers

Sunday
Last week I wrote, “…in a fit of optimism, I rigged up a 10-weight and a 12-weight.” Unusual for me (I dislike fishing on weekends), Sunday morning I got up early, launching the Mitzi at Parrish Park. On-board was the 10-weight in question, a white electric sushi tied to the end of the leader.

I went looking for tarpon. I was not expecting much.

I have been whining lately about the weather. No weather excuses Sunday morning- it was as perfect a May morning as one could ask for.

To my shock and delight I found a bunch of happy tarpon, laying at the surface, fins out of the water. My mouth went dry. My knees were shaky. Best of all, no one else was there.

My knees are shaking, and my hands are weak, and I can’t seem to stand on my own two feet! – Jeff Beck and Rod Stewart

My first cast got bit immediately. I missed it. I kept stripping and got bit again. The hook stuck and moments later 50 pounds of furious silver was flying through the air. The fish jumped at least 10 times, a spectacular fish. I leadered it and popped it off.

For all my optimism, I had failed to make extra leaders. Several minutes of rigging followed. I tied a green and white fiber minnow on, then again located the fish.

When the smoke cleared I had jumped eight fish, leadering two. The biggest was 80 pounds or so. I had tried white, green and white, grey and white, and black and purple flies, and hit fish on all of them. A trout, a ladyfish, and a sailcat had joined the fray. It was an amazing morning.

Monday– small craft advisory. I replaced the lost flies and tied up a dozen big-game leaders.

Tuesday– east at 20. Began research on something we should have done a long time ago- hurricane shutters. Tied a couple more flies. Was getting desperate to go fishing again. Tuesday evening I decided that on Wednesday morning I would go see if the tarpon were there.

Wednesday-  I awoke at 0230, thoughts of tarpon dancing through my axons. I could not go back to sleep. Been a while since I was that worked up about fishing.

The tarpon did not see the memo. Of course, the weather was different, so they weren’t there.

But, if you want hardhead catfish, the Indian River Lagoon is the place to be. There were schools of catfish everywhere, but those along the shoreline were most interesting. I could not tell if they were spawning, or eating, or what, but in a group they would stand on their heads and wave their tails out of the water. Very strange. An alligator took advantage of this behavior. I watched him catch and eat at least three of the whiskered revelers. They won’t be dancing any more.

I managed to catch a redfish by soaking a mullet head, the only real fish I got. On the bright side, the water is surprisingly clean, and there is lots of bait.

Thursday– didn’t fish, rainy and windy. Ran errands, tied flies, ordered the hurricane shutters.

Friday– didn’t fish. In the morning the dishwasher blew water all over the kitchen floor, so Mr. Fixit had to make love to it until lunch. Then, the hurricane shutters were delivered! I tied some more flies.

I need the hardware for the shutters, then there will be installation time. I hope I get to fish some next week…

Angling is extremely time consuming. That’s sort of the whole point.
– Thomas McGuane

Life is great and I love my work!

Every day is a blessing. Don’t waste it- Go Fishing!

John Kumiski, author of Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide
Purchase Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide at http://www.spottedtail.com/fishing-florida-by-paddle/

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2020. All rights are reserved.

Filed Under: Fishing Reports, Orlando Fishing Report, Photo Essays · Tagged: , , ,

Second Road Trip Report and Photo Essay

February 29, 2020 by · Leave a Comment

Second Road Trip Report and Photo Essay

What an incredible week.

Thank you for reading my second road trip report. Traveling across America with my son Maxx! Still no fishing, so I hope it’s worth your time!

Monday Maxx and I left Amarillo. Before heading west we made a detour to visit Palo Duro Canyon, the country’s second largest canyon, in a state park south of Amarillo.

We all love maps!

 

In the canyon.

 

A view along our hike.

 

Another view during the hike.

 

Yucca plants thrive all through the southwest.

 

View from the top- of the canyon.

 

These dried flowers were all over the canyon.

 

The walk made Betty a little thirsty. Photo by Maxx Kumiski.

We drove through and then took the dogs for a walk. Pretty spectacular way to spend a morning, any time.

We then headed back to I-40, hoping to make Albuquerque. The sky was cloudless most of the way, but the wind was howling. We’re carrying a canoe. Several times we had to stop and tighten the tie-down lines, something I rarely need to do. We made it to Albuquerque without any major incidents, though.

Dinner was at a mom-and-pop Mexican restaurant. There are 215 Mexican restaurants in Albuquerque! The menu was in Spanish, the proprietors from Oaxaca. I had a chicken breast in mole sauce, it was the best I’ve had. Hooray for mom and pop!

Tuesday morning we went to the Petroglyph National Monument and took a brisk (temperature-wise) hike with the dogs, checking out the basalt boulders along the way.

Some of the hundreds of petroglyphs we saw.

 

The trail we took overlooks Albuquerque.

 

More petroglyphs…

 

Maxx photographed some, too.

Hundreds of years ago native Americans etched hundreds of figures onto some of the rock faces here. They were most likely not thinking of me coming along with a camera. Along the way we saw a few jackrabbits and several road runners. Neither of us had ever seen one, pretty neat.

Then it was back into the car. Poor Bruce is still in the cat carrier. He uses us for bounce toys while we try to sleep, though.

In the afternoon we stopped at Petrified Forest National Park. It was cold, about 40 degrees. It was windy, 25 with gusts. In spite of this we went on another hike with the dogs into the Blue Mesa Badlands.

Maxx photographs a fossilized tree trunk.

 

Everyone is looking pretty chill-ly.

 

Here’s a fossil log, about to take a tumble.

We were looking at fossil logs of trees that grew during the Triassic. If we weren’t freezing our buns off it would have been super enjoyable. As it was it was still very cool. I’d like to return when the weather was nicer.

Wednesday turned out to be quite the interesting day. First we stopped at Jim Gray’s Petrified Wood Company  in Holbrook, Arizona. It ought to be called the Petrified Wood Superstore. It’s a museum, art gallery, furniture store, and rock shop all rolled into one. You can spend a few cents or tens of thousands of dollars here, on the coolest stuff you will ever see. If you can’t check out the store, check out the photos.

Gray’s had hundreds of fossil logs like this.

 

He also has furniture of all kinds, made with petrified wood.

 

Fossil fish, anyone?

 

This was in the restroom, over the urinal. Good way to get your attention!

After that we drove west, stopping at the meteor crater west of Flagstaff. Admission for an adult is $22. Twenty-two bucks to see a hole in the ground? Heck yes, and well worth it, too. Again, it’s a museum. And the crater almost defies description. I was not prepared for how vast it was.

The meteor that did this was 150 feet in diameter. The hole is almost a mile across.

 

The view from the crater’s edge, looking the other way. Lots of empty space out in Arizona!

Then it was back in the car, heading west.

At Kingman we got off I-40 and took Route 66, stopping at Oatman, an old gold mining town gone tourist trap. It’s a tourist trap done right, a town with both character and burros, lots of burros.

Atman is also known as Jackass Junction because of the burros.

 

We didn’t eat there!

 

You can buy burro food if you want to make friends.

 

Then it was back in the car to Needles, California. We crossed the Colorado River and now are in the Golden State. The price of gasoline jumped almost two dollars a gallon.

Thursday we traversed the Mojave Desert National Monument, stopping briefly at Kelso Dunes and then again at Teutonia Peak, up which we hiked. The cacti and Joshua trees were magnificent. They thrive in such a tough environment, and they are beautiful besides.

At Kelso Dunes. Photo by Maxx Kumiski.

 

A view in the Mojave Desert. Photo by Maxx Kumiski.

 

I do not know what kind of cactus this is. Photo by Maxx Kumiski.

 

We hiked through a Joshua tree “forest”.

 

The rosette at the end of the Jshua tree branch reminds me of Spanish bayonet, to which it is related,

When we finished our hike we drove to Bakersfield and then to Porterville, arriving at about 2000 hours, pretty beat. We spent the night there.

Friday we took the day off from driving and went hiking off of CA 190, in Giant Sequoia National Monument. Those trees are the most majestic and magnificent things I have ever seen. I cannot believe anyone would cut them down. People who would do that worship money way more than they worship God.

I’m inside a tree. Photo by Maxx Kumiski.

 

The monument is in the Sierra Nevada. There are lots of streams, some with trout.

 

A fallen redwood makes a handy bridge.

 

I love the reflections, I love the music, I love these streams!

 

This is a giant sequoia.

 

This is a more giant sequoia, the fifth largest tree on earth.

 

 

The Stagg Tree has way more than character- a detail of the bark.

We went to see the Stagg Tree, the fifth largest tree on the planet, estimated to be 3000 years old. I don’t know how to photograph something like that, that begins to do it justice, particularly with the little point-and-shoot camera I’m carrying on this trip. I hugged the giant for a long time, tears running from my eyes. It was quite literally a religious experience. I am not worthy…

We dined at a little Vietnamese restaurant. The ambiance was not there, but the food was delicious, outstanding, something we needed after the past couple dinners!

And that’s my second road trip report and photo essay. Thanks for reading it!

Life is great and I love my work!

Every day is a blessing. Don’t waste it- Go Fishing!

John Kumiski, author of Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide
Purchase Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide at http://www.spottedtail.com/fishing-florida-by-paddle/

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2020. All rights are reserved.

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Flamingo Paddle Fishing Report

January 25, 2020 by · Leave a Comment

Flamingo Paddle Fishing Report (with a bit about St. Johns Shad)

Thank you for reading this Flamingo Paddle Fishing Report. Nothing like the Everglades, although getting to or from Flamingo is becoming a traffic nightmare.

After picking up my wilderness permit from the rangers Monday morning I loaded up the Bang-O-Craft and headed to Cape Sable. My plan was east cape two nights and middle cape two nights. The weather had other ideas.

The kayak and the Bang-O-Craft!

I had to stay east of east cape because of the wind and waves. Fortunately the kayak served as a dinghy so I could anchor the boat off the beach a way, which kept it from getting pummeled.

The waves meant the boat needed to be off the beach.

 

The Bang-O-Craft, happily at anchor.

I had some time to walk the beach. The shells are amazing! The amount of plastic there, especially abandoned commercial fish gear, is close to appalling.

 

 

 

 

A shorty snook, the first of many, and a hockey-puck jack fell for my little jig that evening. After darkness fell I stayed up long enough to enjoy the stars a bit and see two satellites. Beat from a long day, I soon crashed.

As soon as it got light I was up, eating fast and loading up for the day’s fishing. After anchoring the johnboat I started paddling. I planned the trip to take advantage of the incoming tide. No one told the water. I fought current the entire way. Crocodiles of all sizes jumped off the bank upon my approach. Between the crocodiles and the pterodactyl-like blue herons it felt a little like Jurassic Park. Even sounded like it- Scraw! Scraw! Scraw! Did not see a Tyranosaur, though.

Jursassic Park, Or Everglades National Park?

I couldn’t tell if the wind caused it or not, but the water was dirty. Between that and the wind, sight fishing with a fly rod, what I hoped to do, was impossible. Perhaps a half-dozen nice snook were spotted, all after blowing out. A single redfish tail went up and right back down again. The fly rod remained untouched. By lunchtime no bites had happened.

After lunch the current of the now incoming tide pushed me between two islands. Blind casting a DOA Shrimp produced the first bite of the day, a dinker snook. I got a dozen or so there, one after another, before realizing I was in the nursery. I went hunting again.

I found nothing but large reptiles (Where’s Steve Irwin when you need him?) until I got another dinker snook blind casting a small jig with a chartreuse twisty tail. At this point it was getting on in the afternoon. I waited at that spot for the tide to turn, catching small snook, until deciding to paddle against the current again to get back to the johnboat. You would think there would be a decent snook in there, but no, all little guys. Oh, and a solitary, lost, seatrout.

The stars again were spectacular, the Milky Way in as much glory as you’ll get in south Florida, and three satellites to boot. Venus was visible as soon as the sun set. The first stars to appear were Rigel, Aldebaran, and Sirius. Orion soon blazed. https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2020/01/betelgeuse-supernova/605251/?utm_source=pocket-newtab The gems of stargazing, to me, are meteors, but not one did I see this trip.

The cold sent me to bed after a while. I struggled to stay warm all night.

The next morning the wind was still blowing hard. Florida Bay looked like a wavy bowl of mud. It was cold. My fishing spot didn’t work, and the weather kept me from trying much else. I loaded up and went back to Flamingo. I’d check the weather and if it were to stay the same, well, I would hit the road.

Forecast for the next day, north at 5-10. I got a campsite at Flamingo Campground. Once again the stars were awesome. Eight satellites!

In the fog I packed up, launched the boat, and headed out. After anchoring I negotiated a tiny creek in the kayak. The creek was full of fallen trees, and lots of snook. I was optimistic the lake would be good.

Another dinker snook!

Where the creek entered the lake I tried a cast. Bam! Dinker snook. I tried the fly rod with a streamer. Every cast. A snook on every cast! It wasn’t heavenly. They were all dinkers. Again I was in the nursery. I went looking for real ones.

I poled and paddled around the entire lee shore of the lake and did not see a fish. I paddled the length of the lake, back to the creek mouth. The dinkers were still there, no big boys.

The spin rod I brought has a history. I purchased the rod, a whippy fiberglass cheapy, at Lechmere Sales in Cambridge, right after I got my driver’s license. After stripping all the hardware off I wrapped new guides on the blank and put a new handle on, and mounted a Mitchell 308 loaded with four pound monofilament on it. With that rod I fished for bass and pickerel, and sunfish and crappie and perch, and stocked brown and rainbow and wild brook trout. And carp. Let’s not forget them.

Let’s not forget the carp. The author, circa 1969.

It didn’t get used at all for a long time and for years hung on our wall as “art”. Since our kids moved out we’ve been changing things around in the house. The old rod found its way back into my arsenal recently. I mounted a Shimano Nasci 1000 with 10-pound braid on it. That’s what I was using on this trip.

It wasn’t what I would have chosen to battle snook in a tiny creek loaded with lumber. But no way could I fly cast I there, so I went for it. The lure was the good old plastic shad.

The first several fish were dinkers. Then a real one hit.

The fish were in a lot of lumber.

The fish went around a mangrove root. The line was stuck in the little mussels on the root. I opened the bail while I worked the boat around the fallen wood to actually get at the place the line was caught and after fumbling around for a while got it free. The rod was passed around the root, the bail closed, the line tightened. The fish was still on.

There was more, similar stupid stuff, but I ended up getting the fish, by miles the best of the trip. I laughed like a maniac after releasing it, the whole thing was so crazy.

I cast the shad again. A bigger snook hit it. He did not mess around, immediately wrapping the line around a sunken branch and breaking off.

I considered re-rigging but that would have resulted in more fish with jewelry- no way could I get them out of that jungle. I paddled back to the johnboat, ran back to Flamingo, loaded up, and hit the road.

I left Flamingo at about 1440. I don’t want to say it was the ride from Hell, but it rained hard a good part of the way and I did not get home until 2200. The Florida Turnpike Authority ought to be ashamed of charging people to use that road.

St. Johns River addendum- last weekend I went to the St. Johns to try the noodle rod on shad. It got a workout! Fishing wasn’t hot, but it was pretty steady. About a dozen shad were released in about four hours, with lost fish and missed strikes of course. The rig used is pictured.

 

And that’s my Flamingo Paddle fishing report. I had a great time! Thanks for reading it!

Life is great and I love my work!

Every day is a blessing. Don’t waste it- Go Fishing!

John Kumiski, author of Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide
Purchase Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide at http://www.spottedtail.com/fishing-florida-by-paddle/

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2020. All rights are reserved.

Filed Under: Fishing Reports, Paddle Fishing Florida, Photo Essays, travel blog · Tagged: , , , , , ,

Everglades Solo Paddle Fishing Report and Photo Essay

December 20, 2019 by · 2 Comments

Everglades Solo Paddle Fishing Report

Wishing a most blessed Christmas to everyone.

Thank you for reading this Everglades Solo Paddle Fishing Report. It’s going to read like a full length magazine article so you might want to save it for when you’re at work. 🙂

Launched the kayak at the Everglades City Ranger Station about 11 am Sunday morning. I hoped to catch the last of the outgoing tide out to the Gulf, but I hit the nose of the incoming tide and had to paddle against it for a way. It hadn’t started running hard yet. The weather was amazing.

Don’t know what it’s trying to do. This is the beauty you see while paddling.

My plan was to camp two or three nights at Rabbit Key and two or three nights at Jewell Key, fish, watch stars, play harmonica, and be alone with my thoughts for a few days. It was a great plan.

Someone was watching over me.

While paddling I dragged a plastic shad behind the boat. Something hit it. A few minutes later I was surprised by a large Spanish mackerel, a beautiful fish. Wasn’t going to attempt to one-hand it for a photo!

Hit a young snook off a root wad, another that was banging bait. Reached Rabbit Key without further incident. The old campsite wasn’t there, a hurricane victim. I found quite a lovely alternate.

Home sweet home, Rabbit Key.

One of the best things about kayak camping is I can afford the finest of unspoiled waterfront properties, if only for a few days. Hit a small jack from my front porch.

My front yard at sunset.

I watched the sun set and darkness fall. Watching darkness fall is the best thing you can do while it happens, every single day. It’s magical. None of us do it enough. I spotted two satellites while admiring the Milky Way. Tired from a long day of travel, I then turned in.

It took me a while to get going in the morning. I headed to Rabbit Key Grasses, wondering if there was still grass (none I found). The path I intended to take was unavailable to me as it was lacking water, it being low tide. A small tidal stream drained a huge, dry flat with lots of birds on it. I thought the stream should be a fish bowl but, no bites. I saw a few black drum. Some big sharks swam in water that didn’t cover them, the sunlight glinting off their back and dorsal fins. They are so supple, so beautiful.

The fish is ON!

Once the water started rising I found myself standing and more or less poling in skinny water. Happily surprising me, a redfish cruised. I tossed the shad in front of it. A very satisfying eat happened. Wished I had the fly rod ready but was certainly happy the way things turned out.

This red nailed a plastic shad.

Saw a few other reds but no shots. Hit a few small trout on the way back.

Watched and savored darkness falling again. I was able to stay up for a while this evening. Saw three more satellites. Distant lightning dotted the horizon. Incoming clouds finally broke up the sky show.

Dawn view.

I woke up at 5 AM and started packing, not without enjoying a different sky. Orion was on the western horizon. A meteor fell out of Gemini and looked like it might hit me. The third-quarter moon was in Leo. It was so nice. Getting to see things like this is one of the main draws of making these trips. The fish are a bonus, man!

This trout hit a trolled shad just as the sun rose.

By 630, everything packed and breakfast eaten, I was off to Jewell Key, dragging the shad again. As the sun breached the horizon a trout nailed the shad. The fish was only about 18 inches long but was the best one I would get.

Said sunrise.

A short while later a serious tarpon rolled, only 30 feet away. Fortunately, he did not eat the shad.

A serious tarpon rolled, 30 feet away.

Soon after this a bluefish whacked the shad. I had another specie.

The wind came up to about 12 mph. It was not an impediment to my progress.

I stopped on a long bar.

I stopped on a long bar. The current flowed strongly, out towards the Gulf. I thought there should be some hungry fish there. There were, but only hockey-puck-sized jacks and some blue runners. Got some of each on an olive Clouser minnow. A shark threatened a couple as I played them, but it failed to commit.

Same bar, different view.

When I got to Jewell Key there was a young guy there who had paddled out for the day. I introduced myself. He said to me, “My parents were hippies. They named me Orion.” I told him I liked the name, and had admired his namesake constellation that very morning. I told him they could have chosen worse, like Zeus or Odin. Then again, I don’t have to deal with Orion.

A canoe with three young guys paddled up. Three guys with camping gear in a 17 foot canoe was quite a feat of packing, methinks. Now I had neighbors. Hardly saw them, they were awesome.

Morning glories in my yard on Jewell Key.

I set up my camp and went fishing, Gulf-side on Jewell Key. Between the wind, current, and waves I could only fish by wading. It was too rough and windy to fly cast so I flung a shad, on a light jig head, over and over again, out into the Gulf. It was a manly thing to do.

Generally it was pretty slow but there were two flurries that produced fast action for about 15 minutes each. Redfish, trout, jacks, and ladyfish fell for my deception. A mangrove snapper was fooled too. He got in the rocks and damaged my leader before I could work him out. I stupidly did not retie the leader. Yes, I absolutely should know better.

Shortly afterwards a large snook took the bait in plain view. I hardly felt the leader break, it happened so fast. Completely deserved it.

Typical mangrove forest in Everglades National Park.

Late in the afternoon the water got too deep for comfort. Back at camp there was a new neighbor, a solo paddler who may have been around my age. Quite a nice guy with an “American normal” kind of name, Paul. We chatted a bit, then I made my dinner and enjoyed it.

I spotted a fleet in the distance. After a few minutes it was clear they were headed our way. The sun was close to horizon- would they make it to land before it set?

Nine or ten tired, hungry paddlers from the University of Tennessee joined us that evening. Setting up camp, cooking, eating, and cleaning up were higher on their agenda than watching night fall. Woe is me- their flashlights disturbed my views. I managed to survive. Lightning flashed on the horizon. I even saw a satellite and a meteor before Orion rose, at which time I turned in.

Pounding rain and winds woke me later. It was like a fire hose blasting at my tent! I pulled my fly shut, fairly astonished how heavy and loud the rain was. The wind pulled out the stake that was holding down the fly. Water began joining me in the tent. Somehow my bedding stayed dry. After at least an hour the rain subsided to a gentle mist. I slept until daylight.

I got up, ate breakfast, and went fishing. A ladyfish school ran into me. That was entertaining.

Got a nice red, even more entertaining. Several trout and another red followed.

By now it was time to go back to camp and clean up the mess. The sun was even poking out a bit.

The canoeists and solo paddler were gone. The Volunteers were just launching. If no one else came I’d have the place to myself. I had already decided to go home the next morning.

Getting everything dry and tidy took a couple hours. For my afternoon fishing shift the winds were light. It would be fly casting only.

I started with a pink Clouser minnow, flinging it as far as I could into the Gulf. No sight-fishing here!

This red took 30 minutes of casting.

It took 30 minutes, but finally a bite. A solid redfish, about four pounds. Smile on John’s face!

Little feller snook!

Minutes later, a bite. Little feller snook!

If I catch a trout I’ll have some kind of slam. Trout, where are you?

Another bite. Hockey-puck jack.

This was an aggressive little fish.

 

So was this!

I switched flies, putting on the only Hootchie fly I still had. It fooled a variety of fish species- redfish, ladyfish, snapper, baby jewfish, and some solid jacks. On my last cast, as I was reeling up the line, a fish crushed the fly and ran into my backing for the first time on the trip. It was a jack of five pounds or so.

This jack went into the backing.

On the way back to camp I realized the wind had increased in intensity. I’d been fishing on the protected side of the island.

That evening solid overcast prevented stargazing, so I made a small fire, and of course watched darkness fall. My tent rattled and shook all night long. I was glad I had weighted the stakes down with chunks of wormrock. I did not sleep well, and got up when it got light.

I planned on leaving. Doing so would have been foolhardy. I don’t need NOAA to recognize a small craft advisory. Until the wind died back some I was stuck. I packed what I could and went on standby.

The back yard on Jewell Key,

Around noon I realized the tent wasn’t shaking as bad. My intended route did not look like a wedding cake any more. Paddling into the wind that was left would be hard, but it was no longer dangerous. I packed up.

I thought the tide was about dead low when I left. It wasn’t. I kept hoping the nose of the incoming would catch up to me. It didn’t. It was fight wind and tide the entire way. Even when it started raining I still loved every stroke.

Trips like this make me realize what an insignificant mote I am in the grand design. It’s one of the reasons I need to keep making them.

When I got to the ramp, its end was 10 or 15 feet from the water. Wading through knee-deep black ooze, I was able to drag my vessel to terra firma. Loading up, cleaning up, and driving got me home about 10 PM.

Spent most of Friday catching up, cleaning up, and getting my gear ready for the next trip. I wonder where it will be? It will have a tough act to follow after this one, which was deeply fulfilling, one of my best.

Thanks for making it through the Everglades Solo Paddle Fishing Report!

Life is great and I love my work!

Every day is a blessing. Don’t waste it- Go Fishing!

John Kumiski, author of Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide
Purchase Fishing Florida by Paddle- An Angler’s Guide at http://www.spottedtail.com/fishing-florida-by-paddle/

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2019. All rights are reserved.

Filed Under: Fishing Reports, Fishing Stories, Paddle Fishing Florida, Photo Essays, travel blog · Tagged: , , , , , , , , ,

White Mountains Report and Photo Essay

October 12, 2019 by · Leave a Comment

Covered bridge spanning Swift River.

White Mountains Report and Photo Essay

Susan and I travelled to the White Mountains of New Hampshire to catch the fall color. We have an unusual White Mountains report. Not any fish, but lots of colorful photos!

Cannon Mountain in Franconia Notch.

Richie (Susan’s brother) and I went fishing on the Concord River Sunday morning. I have had wonderful days there in the past. This wasn’t one of them. We hit it for three hours. We did not see a fish, get a bite, or see any fish-eating birds other than a single blue heron. We were off the water by noon.

Storefront in Portsmouth.

Monday we went to Portsmouth, NH. It’s touristy but really well done. Flowers and colorful plants everywhere, nice shops, nice restaurants, lots of history with shipbuilding and whaling, whale watching if you want, worth the trip if you’re near there.

On the main street in Portsmouth.

Tuesday Susan and I drove to Lincoln and went for a 7 mile hike on the Wilderness Trail, going as far as Franconia Falls. It was like walking through a kaleidoscope! Multi-colored leaves thick on the ground. Multi-colored leaves thick on the trees. Vivid colors, greens, browns, reds, golds, yellows, oranges, incredible.

East branch of the Pemigewasset River.

 

It was like walking through a kaleidoscope.

 

Susan enjoys the walk in the woods.

 

Incredible color surrounded us.

 

Wednesday we went to Bald Mountain and Artist’s Bluff, taking another hike. From the top of Bald Mountain we had a clear view of Mount Lafayette. The air sat still, the sun shone warmly. We loafed on the mountaintop enjoying the view, the weather, and each other’s company.

On the way up!

 

On the summit of Bald Mountain. Mount Lafayete dominates the horizon.

 

Folks take their hiking seriously in these parts.

When we finally hiked back to the car we drove to Bethlehem, where we had a fantastic dinner at the Cold Mountain Café. We dined in Bethlehem! It was a fantastic day.

Sumac leaves get ready for winter.

Thursday morning we got up early by vacation standards. There was frost on the car. We drove to Littleton, where breakfast was supplied by the Crumb Bar. If you are in this part of the world that is a must stop.

Striped maple leaves along the trail.

We then drove through Crawford Notch, stopping at the base of Mount Willard. Forty degrees at the start of this mile and a half ascent. It was cloudy and the wind was blowing. So we did not lounge around on the summit for hours! The views down Crawford Notch, of the southern Presidential Range, and Mount Willey, were tremendous, though.

Railroad station at the Mount Willard trailhead.

 

The view down Crawford Notch. Webster Cliffs off to left.

We poked our way back, taking the Kancamagus Highway, enjoying every minute of the drive, until we hit the interstate. New Hampshire portion of vacation over.

Surf casting with fly rod at Winthrop Beach was on the agenda for Friday evening/Saturday morning. A northeaster that produced 40 plus MPH winds and 10 foot waves put the kabosh on that plan.

On October 28 Fishing Florida by Paddle will be available. Click this link for more information!

That’s this week’s White Mountains Report. Thanks for reading!

Life is great and I love my work!

Life is short- Go Fishing!

John Kumiski
www.spottedtail.com
http://www.spottedtail.com/blog
www.johnkumiski.com
www.rentafishingbuddy.com
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jkumiski

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2019. All rights are reserved.

Filed Under: Photo Essays, travel blog · Tagged: , ,

Tiger Key Fishing Report and Photo Essay

April 20, 2019 by · Leave a Comment

Tiger Key Fishing Report

A blessed Easter to everyone. Thank you for reading this Tiger Key fishing report.

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-Flyrodding Florida Salt
-How and Where to Catch Redfish in the Indian River Lagoon System
-Fishing Florida’s Space Coast
Shipping is still $5.95 each. The mailers cost money, the post office wants a cut, and the mail boy has to bring the package to the post office. But you can have each of these titles delivered to your door for six bucks until June 15. Act now!

FISHING!

MONday
Last week I wrote- “Thursday loaded up the expedition kayak (Ocean Kayak Prowler 15) and went to Spruce Creek, which is not much of an expedition.” Monday I took it on an expedition, maybe short, but an expedition none the less. Drove to Everglades City, leaving mi casa at 0400, arriving 1000. Self-issuing camping permit in hand, I loaded up the boat with food, gear, and tackle (fly only) and paddled eight miles out to Tiger Key.

The wind was honkin pretty good out of the northwest and the water, near the top of the tide, was riled up. I did not see any fish other than black mullet on the way out, and did not get a bite after setting up camp. Did not hit it hard, was fairly drained from all the travel.

Campsite, Tiger Key. Nice.

I could not help but notice the army of fiddler crabs, way more than I’ve ever seen anywhere. Why is nothing snacking on them?

Good thing these guys don’t attack people. There were thousands of them.

Tuesday
Beautiful weather! No bugs! Southeast wind made fishing the outside of the islands the thing to do. Cast right off the campsite before breakfast or coffee, getting two small jacks and two small ladyfish on the Bouncer shrimp. Would have liked something sexier but these days be happy with what you get, John!

That’s quite a modest jack. First fish of the trip, though.

After a quick breakfast bite went boating- not far! Saw a place that said, Fish here! So I did. Second cast garnered a strike, a snooklet. Released him after a quick photo and went back to casting. A few casts later hooked a snook that was four pounds, maybe a little more. He went through the #20 Seaguar. Put on an Electric Sushi, 2/0.

The snooklet spit on my lens.  🙁

 

 

Everything was sized modestly.

Before the bite stopped there I’d gotten a redfish (small) and 10 or so trout in the slot. Spent the rest of the day hunting for fish that I didn’t find. There was no bait anywhere. Saw a single snook on top of a bar, did not get a shot. Saw one shark on the same bar. Blind-cast in places that screamed, Fish here! Did not touch a fish all day until I went back to the morning spot, where a half-dozen more trout fell to the Sushi fly.

After supper got another jack fishing by the campsite, for a nice circular ending to the day. Stayed up barely long enough to see some of my favorite constellations, tough under an almost-full moon. Slept well.

Beseeching the fish gods to toss me some crumbs.

Wednesday
Thinking that the outside didn’t work too well, went looking inside. Had a low outgoing tide to start, perfect for hunting shallow bays. Those bays had a few black mullet and the tiniest of fry minnows and nothing else.

There were lots of ospreys, good to see!

The only birds around were ospreys. There were no ibis (didn’t see one in four days!) and very few herons or egrets. No bait, no birds, no fish. I’m going back to where I got the fish yesterday.

Another snooklet.

Once there I had the same conditions as the previous day. Again, a snooklet attacked the Sushi fly almost immediately. A while later I got another. A while later I got another rat red. Then nothing. I stayed longer than I should have, hoping the trout would show. They didn’t. I hopped in the boat and went hunting again.

I worked another point real hard and again got nothing until a flounder took pity on me. It wasn’t much of a fish, but it was a fish.

Deciding a picnic on Picnic Key would be appropriate, I paddled over there. The beach is long and beautiful. The sun was high, the water clear. I walked toward the far end, high on the beach, hoping to spot a snook or redfish.

The beach at Picnic Key, home of the mighty houndfish.

When I got to the far end I reversed field. To my amazement, where there was nothing a few minutes earlier there was a fish. But it was almost bright green! What was it?

I cast too far in front. Hoping the fish would move toward me I let the fly sit there. The fish was not moving. When I tried to recover the fly it was discovered it had found a root. Pulling it off the root did not bother the fish, but it did bend the hook. While straightening it I broke the barb off.

The next cast landed a foot in front of the fish. He immediately came over to check. One twitch and BAM! It was a houndfish. He almost beached himself when he jumped, a pretty spectacular 1.27 seconds. Then the barbless hook came free. I suspect they’re hard to hook anyway, what with the bony beak.

While I was picnicking a guide boat with four tourists came to look for shells and whatnot. The captain was a crusty Chokoloskee Island native, knew Edgar Watson’s son. While we chatted he said something which was pretty obvious to someone who’s fished Florida for very long- “There sure ain’t as many fish as there used to be.”

No fish here.

I checked three more islands, saw a single redfish on two big stingrays. Did not get a shot.

No fish here, either.

The day was getting old when I went back to my “spot.” A few trout had come in, got a half-dozen to three pounds. One, once hooked, came in, did not fight until I tried to grab him. Then he thrashed like crazy. “Fish, please don’t do that, you’ll attract a shark.” No sooner did I release him than a six foot bull swam by a rod length away. It wasn’t a soil-your-shorts moment but it could have easily turned into one.

Did I have nice weather or what??

This evening had no breeze. The no-see-ums were a minor annoyance. I didn’t use bug spray once the entire trip, choosing in this instance to retire early.

Thursday
Got up at first light, had breakfast, broke camp and packed up, paddled back to Everglades City, getting there at 1000. Loaded up the chariot and drove home, thinking about no ibis, no gulls (NO GULLS), no bait, can I go to a planet that’s not being ravaged please?

That’s this week’s Tiger Key Fishing Report! Thanks for reading!

Life is great and I love my work!

Life is short- Go Fishing!

John Kumiski
www.spottedtail.com
http://www.spottedtail.com/blog
www.johnkumiski.com
www.rentafishingbuddy.com
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jkumiski

All content in this blog, including writing and photos, copyright John Kumiski 2019. All rights are reserved.

Filed Under: Fishing Reports, Paddle Fishing Florida, Photo Essays, travel blog · Tagged: , , , , , , , , ,

A Ponder on Trees- Essay/Photo Essay

March 19, 2019 by · Leave a Comment

Cypress tree, Hillsborough River State Park.

A Ponder on Trees

I’ve been doing a ponder on trees. Do trees understand their own mortality? Trees don’t have a brain, a mind. Trees are not sentient. Right? What does science say?

Dwarf cypress forest, Tate’s Hell State Forest

Science doesn’t know everything. It’s particularly weak in areas of spirituality. Where do you keep your spirit? Can science tell you? Does your pet dog have a spirit? Does a gorilla? A whale? We can’t speak to any of these familiar creatures, so much like us in so many ways, much less to something as fundamentally different to us as a tree.

Pine tree, St. George Island State Park

Trees have hundreds of years to ponder the universe. How aware are they of their surroundings? Plants in general, and trees in particular, respond to stimuli. They take their time to do so. Trees have lots of time to respond. The oldest known living thing is a tree, a bristlecone pine, which has over 5,000 years under its belt. This much time allows for a great deal of philosophizing. This much time allows for a great deal of communication with other organisms, if they can understand the “tree talk.”

Temperate rain forest, Wood-Tikchik State Park, Alaska

Working with nothing more than gut instinct, I find it hard to believe that a responsive organism that has 5000 years with which to work can’t communicate with other responsive organisms in its immediate vicinity.

Live oak tree, Bronson State Forest

– Pause for research…

There you go. According to the work of Suzanne Simard, trees interact with each other by means of soil fungi. You can read more about this here- https://e360.yale.edu/features/exploring_how_and_why_trees_talk_to_each_other

 

Cypress trees, Lake Mills Park

Trees recognize and nurture their offspring and pass their accumulated wisdom to their own children. I knew it. It never made sense to me that a creature as magnificent as a large, old tree couldn’t communicate with its neighbors. The mycelium of soil fungi act as both a circulatory system for moving carbon products between trees and as a giant neural net that underlies the entire forest. For all we know this net, along with the trees that are part of it, is able to intelligently process information in ways we haven’t even begun to imagine.

Buttress roots on a cypress tree, Hillsborough River State Park

– Pause for research…

According to the work of Jagadish Chandra Bose, plant tissues respond to both external and internal stimuli exactly like animal tissues do. Flexibility of plant tissue is somewhat inhibited by cell walls. Plant tissues do not include muscle. Why would they? So on a macro level a branch can’t pull away from a flame like your hand could. But the tissues within that branch respond to the flame, to the threat of the flame, exactly like your tissues would.

Cabbage palms, Orlando Wetlands Park

– Another pause for research. The last, I’m wrapping this up.

I looked online for scientific evidence that humans have a soul. While there is some, the prevailing scientific view is that humans are basically bags of biochemical responses fueled by the reaction of various “fuel” molecules such as carbohydrates with oxygen within the cells. When these reactions no longer can occur within us we are said to be dead. As I said at the beginning of this piece, science is pretty weak when it comes to spirituality.

Gingko tree, Toccoa, Georgia

Like us, trees have biochemical reactions. Like us, they have birth and death. Like us, they can communicate with each other and respond to their environment. Like us, they recognize their mortality. Sometimes when I hug a tree, I feel something. I don’t know if it’s generated by the tree or by me but it’s a thrill either way. I think trees are sentient in ways that most of us can never understand, and as far as their having a soul, I’m more than willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

I love the trees.

John Kumiski
admitted tree hugger

Red mangroves, Indian River Lagoon

 

Cabbage Palms, Jensen Beach

 

Mixed hardwoods, Appalachian Trail, North Carolina

 

Red Maple, Chassahowitzka River

 

Cypress tree, Lake Mills Park

 

Cypress roots, Peace River

 

Fir trees, Tongass National Forest, Alaska

 

Pine Tree, Lake Mills Park

 

Oak tree, Toccoa, Georgia

 

Live oak trees, Canaveral National Seashore

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