Tippacanoe

This is why I belong in a CITY

There is a reason I prefer to live in cities, and call myself a “city girl”, and the following story will demonstrate why I am absolutely correct.

Lately, in my woo woo endeavors, I have been trying to be more outdoorsy, and connect with nature. Growing up in Southern Illinois where there is breathtaking land and waterscapes, I never really appreciated any of it. I took it for granted; with my eyes always pointed towards city life.

Now that I am back in So IL for the foreseeable future, and beginning to have a new appreciation for nature, I decided to start trying to take advantage of what is right outside my door. I pretty quickly remembered why this was never my cup of tea, and why I am better off just continuing to appreciate it on TikTok.

As a kid, the idea of camping was really fun in theory, however, in practice, it was literally just sleeping on the hard ass ground and being eaten alive by bugs. Hiking sounded great, but it was just really hot and humid. And, again, bugs fucking love me. I always loved going swimming at the lake. I mean, a pool was better because I could see the bottom and there weren’t creepy things in it trying to bite me. Also, it didn’t matter how much sunscreen I put on, how many times I reapplied, and how high the SPF was—I was going to get burnt to a crisp and miserable for days on end.

Listen, I tried to do shit outside. But I am Irish as fuck! I get burned sooooo bad every time. My blood is as sweet as molasses—the bugs eat me alive! Also, for some reason, I don’t sweat—so when it is hot, I just get heat stroke because my body doesn’t cool itself off. And sleeping on the ground is dumb.

After a while, I accepted it for what it was, and I moved to a city and I thrived. I drive like a fucking champ in the city traffic. I parallel park in spots that would make your head spin. I yell at people and smack their cars with my hand when I am walking through the crosswalk and they run a red light. I tell off 7-Eleven clerks that get fresh with me. I can manage myself in a crowd of 100,000 people at Lollapalooza. I don’t bat an eyelash when I see a homeless man humping a mailbox, or a man at the beach dressed as a mermaid and flapping around in the water. I outsmart prostitutes who are trying to steal my cellphone, and I sweet talk them until they offer me vodka from their purse and they tell me I look like Adele. Not only can I survive in the concrete jungle, but I thrive there.

I can’t say the same for the great outdoors. As I am gaining an appreciation for trees, and nature, and fairies, and wildlife, and all the things that the forest has to offer—I am trying to get out more in it, and see if I can fare better. Well, I found out pretty quickly that I can’t. I still overheat. I still get red AF. I am absolutely covered in bug bites. Even when I just lay on a blanket on the ground to read it is still too hard and hurts my back.

Against my better judgement, I decided to defy the odds and go on two outdoor excursions that sounded so fun and exciting! I decided that my illness was not going to keep me from doing anything ever, and that I would find a way to make accommodations to get out and try to enjoy some of these amazing things this area has to offer.

First up was a trip to Bell Smith Springs. A group of ladies I know go out on regular hiking excursions. This particular week they were going to a natural spring about an hour from my house and were going to snorkel in it. This sounded so incredible. It was on a day I didn’t have a doctor’s appointment, and it was during a time of day when I am awake enough to drive. So, I made the trek out to the middle of nowhere on very dusty, bumpy, remote roads where my cell phone had less than zero signal. I managed to find the ladies I was meeting in the middle of the forest, and we took a short beautiful hike to the remote natural spring.

We passed many a mushroom ring on the way there and lots of fairy homes. When we got to the spring, which is normally totally clear, it was completely cloudy and muddy from all the rain we’d had earlier that week. Snorkeling was not a possibility because you couldn’t see beyond a couple inches in. We decided to swim nonetheless, but just not snorkel. We had a lovely time together, however I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous the whole time thinking about what I couldn’t see in the water. I was fine when I thought it was going to be clear and I would be snorkeling. But, when it was that muddy and I couldn’t see anything, the likelihood of a snake sneaking up on me was in the back of my mind the whole time.

I don’t know if it is because my blood is full of sugar, or because I am so damn white that I glow under water, or what my deal is, but the fish LOVED me. I was nipped by the fish in the water about 5 times, while the other people I was with were not bit even once. Even when I try to get out in nature, I am just shown time and time again that I don’t belong.

When we left, and I got back to my dad’s car, there was a HUGE crack in the windshield that was not at all there before. And there was nothing I had hit or that had hit me during the drive. I wasn’t parked under anything. And I was at the end of the parking lot with nothing able to park on the side of me where the crack was. I have no explanation of where this crack came from. Other than I must have somehow accidentally disturbed a fairy home and nature is telling me to get the hell out and go back to the city.

I break the bad news to my dad about his windshield, and then I promptly sign up for a canoe trip that Sunday night. I had so much fun on this Thursday nature excursion—even if I didn’t get to snorkel, became fish food, and got a mysterious crack in my dad’s windshield—that I decided not to give up and to try again. I had Friday and Saturday to rest to replenish my energy before Sunday. Plus, I had a foolproof plan for Sunday! The website says they have accommodations for disabled people and you can ride with a guide who can help paddle for you. YAY! What could go wrong?

I’d been hearing about these Full Moon Paddle Tours on the Cache River for quite a while, and had been super interested. A place called Cache Bayou Outfitters leads them, and every full moon they do a nighttime canoe and kayak tour in this beautiful river/bayou/swamp thingy that is filled with gorgeous Cypress trees, blue herons, bald eagles, and so much more! Being all witchy woo woo as I am, I was all about this full moon business. I saw the July one being advertised as only having 2 spots left. I didn’t have the energy or bandwidth to try to recruit a friend to go with me. I was just feeling like I needed to do this one on my own. Plus, they said a guide could paddle my ass around.

So, I signed myself up and made my way down there on Sunday evening. This place was also an hour away, and also in the middle of nowhere driving down bumpy, remote roads that look like they belong in a scary movie. This time, I took my mom’s truck, because my dad’s windshield wasn’t fixed yet from my last excursion a mere three days ago.

I arrive and everyone is so friendly and helpful. I am introduced to my guide, and wouldn’t ya know it, he’s kinda cute… He begins asking me a few questions, and one of them is whether I prefer a canoe or a kayak. I tell him I have terrible balance and ask him which would be better for that. He teases me a little about it, gives me a cute smile, and then proceeds to tell me that the kayak is harder to balance when you are stepping in and out of it, but once you are in it, it balances better than the canoe. And that the canoe is easier to step in and out of, but harder to balance while in it. I explain I will be terrible at both, and ask what he recommends.

He says he will go out and look at what is left and figure out what will be best. He comes back and lets me know that the other guide had already set aside a canoe for us, so that’s what we were going to take. Ok then. I notice pretty quickly that everyone else’s canoes and kayaks are made of that really nice heavy duty plastic stuff, and the seats have backs on them. And that our canoe is a very very light aluminum, and it has really uncomfortable seats with no backs.

As we get going, our canoe drifts really easily, and it is pretty clear that it is so light that it is hard to keep it in line. (I think this one was probably chosen because it was light and they were thinking it may help the guide not have to paddle so much weight since he was paddling for two.) My guide tells me that as long as I sit in the center of my seat, we should balance just fine. This doesn’t seem like it is going to be a problem, because the seat is literally the size of my ass. So I have no way of not centering on it.

Other than the discomfort of the seat, I am really enjoying the tour. Not only is it breathtakingly beautiful, but my guide is taking me on little side excursions and showing me things that the other people aren’t seeing, and telling me things they aren’t hearing. We also have a pretty good conversation going. Discussing lots of interesting topics, and some fun flirtatious banter.

We discussed everything from his time living in Florida, to his roommate who is a retired circus performer, our knowledge of Greek Mythology, a little bit about astrology, some slightly dirty jokes, and more.

Along the tour, I spotted a bald eagle, saw a gorgeous sunset, heard the unique songs of the blue herons mixed with choruses of frogs, saw the most beautiful trees and scenery, and went past what I know to be fairy homes and traps.

As we got to the spot that was the furthest most point out, the sun had vanished behind the horizon, and it was time to see the Full Moon. However, there was soooooooo much cloud cover, that the moon was completely hidden from view. Couldn’t even spot one little bit of it. So, if you are keeping track, the mud has prohibited me from seeing in the spring, and the clouds have prevented me from seeing the moon. Kind of the main points of these excursions. However, I do not fret. It is still beautiful and an enjoyable experience nonetheless.

As we start making the hour plus trek back, we are in almost pitch black. Since we have no moonlight to guide us, we are mostly going off of a couple of head lamps that people are wearing. At this point, it is probably a good time to tell you that right before we went on the tour, when we were told all of the safety precautions and whatnot, we were warned that the river had something known as “asian carp” that would fly up and could land in the boat, but wouldn’t hurt us. These are an invasive species of fish. Here is what Google has to say about them:

Asian carp were imported to North America for aquaculture ponds to help with pest control, but have since escaped into the wild and spread through the Mississippi River system to many of the country's rivers and streams. They are now a major threat to the ecology, environment, economy, and way of life in the Upper Midwest and Great Lakes region of the United States and Canada. 

Silver carp can grow upwards of 3 feet long and commonly reach 20 pounds, with the largest individuals reaching upwards of 80 pounds. They are popularly known for acrobatic jumping out of the water when startled by the noise of boat motors, becoming potential hazards for recreational boaters.

Asian carp are a threat in several ways, including:

• Physical danger: Silver carp can leap up to three meters high when startled by boat engines, which has earned them the nickname "flying carp".

• Ecological threat: Asian carp are voracious eaters that can consume up to 20% of their body weight each day.

• Socio-economic threat: Asian carp could impact commercial, recreational, and subsistence fishing

  

Ok, so, with that being said, we were warned that they may jump at us, but they wouldn’t bite or hurt us. On the first half of the trip, a couple of these fish jumped up near some of the other boats. But not super close, and not very often. However, on the way back, in the pitch black, they decided it was time to have a PARTY. Also, while my guide had us placed at the very back of the line during the first half of the tour—now, in the dark, he had us at the very front of the line on the last half. So, all of the fish were being scared up by our boat first, and therefore jumping at us. Every couple of minutes one of these huge fish would jump out of the black abyss right next to me and shoot up like a geyser. At one point, a few yards away from us, literally hundreds of them were jumping up all at the same time for a period of about 1-2 minutes—so you just kept hearing nonstop splashing.

Then, as I am holding my paddle, one of these terrible beasts jumps out of the water on my right side, jumps over the boat in between my arm and my leg (over my leg but under my arm), it’s slimy monstrous body slides across the bottom of my arm as it sails across my lap, and it lands in the water on the left side of my boat.

During every single one of these scenarios, I KEPT MY COOL!! I was a teensy bit jumpy, but not nearly enough that I lost balance. Most of the time, I didn’t even scream. But sometimes it did surprise me so much that I yelped a little. I was laughing so hard and making the most of the adventure and the craziness. I thought “I must be looking so damn cool in front of this cute tour guide”. At one point we even went through a spider web with a huge spider, and he tried to scare me by calling it a Death Spider. But I just gave him crap right back and didn’t even get scared. You guys, I was playing this shit so cool.

Then, when we had maybe 15 minutes of the canoe ride left to go before we got back, I turned my head back to see if any clouds had moved and if I could maybe catch at least one glimpse of this damn full moon I had come all the way out here to see. As my head was turned, the guide exclaimed, “look out! One is getting ready to jump right in front of you!” I quickly snapped back to facing forward, and in doing so lost my balance and tipped the canoe.

Yep. After ALL of that, that is what did me in folks. I tipped us completely over. We fell in the water with thousands of these disgusting and terrifying fish and god knows how many snakes and who knows what else?!! I STILL KEPT MY COOL!!!!!! My guide immediately swam over to me, grabbed me, asked me if I was ok, and made sure I was safe. I saved my Stanley cup. I pulled my phone out of my bra and handed it off to another boat. The other guide grabbed my flip flops which were floating on top of the water, and put them in his boat with my Stanley and phone. Yes, my dumb ass was wearing FLIP FLOPS on a canoe trip.

My guide asked me to hold on to the other guide’s boat so he could empty our canoe of all the water that was now filling it, and tip it back upright. Then, like a GD superhero, this dude picked up an entire canoe filled with water up over his head and dumped it all out. Are you kidding me??!! Then he says, “ok, do you think you can get back in the canoe?” Listen, I have never had the upper body strength to do something like that from the water even when I wasn’t chronically ill and was in great shape. But, at this stage in my life, that was laughable. On top of that, to stand in this swamp, was to sink in the mud to your knees. It just wasn’t happening. No matter how hard I tried. He offered his knee for me to step on and hoist me in the canoe. But, he was just sinking in the mud too.

So, he said, “ok, well, do you wanna swim it?” I said, “I am gonna have to.” So much for booking this because I can have someone paddle for me and I can conserve energy. I now have to swim for my life in a bayou filled with terrifying creatures in the pitch black. Luckily, about 30 or 40 feet ahead was a place where there was a shore that we could actually climb on to, and we didn’t have to swim the whole way back. So, my guide walked in the mud that behaved like quicksand while pulling the canoe by rope behind him, and I doggy paddled like a loser in my life vest. I apologized for tipping us and causing him all this nonsense, and he was so good natured about it. He laughed it off and said, “this happened to me all the time when I worked this job in Florida, and in those waters I had to do this with gators. So this is nothing.” Jesus Christ! Gators? Are you kidding me?!

We made it to the shore safely, and he asked me if I wanted to walk the rest of the way back on the road, or if I wanted to get back in the canoe and paddle the rest of the way back. I genuinely had no interest in getting back in that canoe. However, the road was gravel and my flip flops were in a boat that was long gone. So, I opted to get back in the boat over walking barefoot on a rocky road. I got in the canoe and he pulled me into the water and hopped back in and we made our way back.

The guide proceeded to tell me he was impressed that I was willing to get back in the canoe after that. I told him that I just did it because I didn’t have shoes and didn’t want to walk barefoot on gravel. He joked, “ah, man, you shoulda played it cool and just pretended it was because you weren’t scared.” I retorted, “I have never once in my life ever been able to play anything cool and I don’t think I am going to be able to start tonight.”

Upon getting back to home base, this guy who had just paddled me around for 2+ hours, then lifted a canoe filled with water and emptied it, and also waded through knee deep mud for 40ft—proceeded to then get out of the canoe and pull it—with me in it—all the way up on to dry land. I would like his address to send him a case of muscle relaxers, pain relievers, and icy hot because good lord that had to hurt the next day.

As I got out of the boat, I was thrilled to get my flip flops back in good condition, my Stanley was in great shape, and my phone was actually working even though it had been submerged in the water in my bra when I fell. I was laughing at the absurdity of it all, and grateful I hadn’t been bit by any animals. And frankly, thinking I was walking away with a darn good story to tell. I was also thinking how thankful I was that I had packed a towel and a change of clothes in the truck, just in case, since mine were soaked. As I went to my pocket to grab the keys to my mom’s truck, a wave of panic washed over me…

The one thing I hadn’t saved. The one thing I had forgotten about in the water. I saved my Stanley—I did not save the car keys. They were not in my pocket. They were in the swamp. I was locked out of my mom’s car. An hour away from home. In the middle of nowhere. At 10:30pm after my parents had gone to bed. FUUUUUCCCKKK.

My phone was still working by the grace of God. I called my dad, because he can actually use Google maps and figure out how to come get me. Well, the dude’s cell phone is off. He has gone to bed for the night. I call my mom. Her phone is on. She answers her phone and I tell her what has happened. She doesn’t know how to use GPS or look up directions on Google or find her way out to me. As people are packing up to leave, I ask around and find out that the other guide (the one who took my shoes and cup in his boat) is headed back to Carbondale, which is one town over from where I live. I asked if I could hang a ride with him to Carbondale Walmart and have my mom pick me up there. He has no problem with this, and I call my mom and let her know where and when to pick me up.

My tour guide comes over and gives me a big bear hug before he leaves, and we say our goodbyes. I thank him again for doing such a good job at taking care of me in that situation. Then, I catch a ride home with the other guide and we have a lovely conversation for the 45 min drive to Carbondale. He drops me off at Walmart, and mom picks me up in dad’s car with the cracked windshield.

So, let’s tally it up here: I went to a spring to snorkel and it was too muddy to see. I passed many fairy homes and traps. And I came home with a huge crack in my dad’s windshield. Then, I went on a full moon canoe trip where it was too cloudy to see the moon. I passed many fairy homes and traps. Huge fish attacked me and I lost my mom’s truck keys in a swamp.

Upon showering when I got home, I noticed I had multiple mysterious bites all over my ass. I guess that’s what I get for not bothering to wear underwear on this adventure. That’s right. Your girl Krista not only wore flip flops on this nature excursion, but she didn’t wear underwear either. This is why I live in CITIES!!!! And this is why I write non-fiction—because I have no need to write fiction when this is my real life.

Please, for the love of God, say so many prayers for me for the CELTIC FAIRY RETREAT I AM GOING ON—IN THE MOUNTAINS IN IRELAND—WHERE WE ARE VISITING FAIRY HOMES—AND HIKING AND DOING NATURE STUFF MOST OF THE TIME. I will pack plenty of underwear, bug spray, tennis shoes, and the only water I will be in is a hot tub. But, still….. this is not smart. I am doing it anyways though.

I spent the next few days in bed recovering after that Sunday adventure. On the following Thursday, I went to the Sunset Concert, and lo and behold, who did I run into but my super hero tour guide. We hugged and laughed as I told his friends the story of my canoe tipping and bug-bitten ass!

Nighty night y’all!