Billy's Creek Take Two

 In my last blog, I talked about how I and a few others visited Billy Creek park and the cleanup we did there. However, our most recent adventure took us on another path. We left from professor Wilkinson's house on the river and paddled to Shady Oaks park, both located on Billy's Creek. We arrived early, wearing old clothes and were prepared to get dirty. Our professor told us that this part of the river was much more polluted and dirty than the park. Loading the canoes on the slip, we could see what he meant. The reflective oil was visible and there was trash on the banks. We started paddling, picking up trash on our way. The river twisted and turned, it was much more difficult than any river I had canoed before. The banks were less than 10 feet in some places, not including the dense mangroves and vegetation growing on either side. About a third of the way to Shady Oaks park, the Nipa and professor Wilkinson were waiting on an bridge, taking candid pictures when we rounded the bank. The river was strong in places, pushing more than once into the underbrush. One time, we had gotten completely stuck on a branch that it took nearly ten minutes to untangle ourselves. When we had finally gotten to the park, we tied our canoes to the dock and climbed out. The other canoe continued a bit farther, around the other side of the park, near a wooden platform. We had found a giant submerged trashcan on our previous short visit that needed to be removed. When they removed it, it was covered in worms that had grown on it. A side path led to a small grotto that was starting to be consumed by nature. It had several trails, none of which you knew were trails until you were actually on them. Professor Wilkinson was deep in the woods, his voice being the only sign of him. I went onto a path in his direction, submerged by water, and three feet high at best. It was a tight squeeze but my big-self made it through. The trail opened up again, with a higher ground part being visible. It was apparent that people had been back here, crushed beer cans and trash bags were all over. I was cautious of poison ivy, luckily I didn't brush up on any. A couple others joined me and we walked back as far as we could. The trail ended in an open area, surrounded by trees and a relatively large space for where we were. We made our way back to the initial grotto opening, finding a huge pile of trash there. Professor Wilkinson's legs were covered in mud, his shoes brown. He told us of a large amount of trash in the much and that he was going to go get it. He advised us not to come but I was up for the challenge. I stepped where he stepped, finding that most of the logs couldn't support my nearly 300lb frame. I tried to get as close as possible so that the professor didn't have to climb back over a trunk and nearly break his neck like he had done on the way in. He handed me a bucket full of garbage and I trucked through to hand it to Seth, waiting for it with another bucket. With the second bucket full and most of the garbage collected in the area, he made his way back to the entrance. I had attempted to set up a path of branches and such but it was flimsy at best. Nipa captured pictures of us as we climbed out. My shoes were as brown as professor Wilkinson's. We walked over the bridge and back to where the canoes were docked and emptied the trash. We stood around it and took pictures of the good we had done, the amount of trash behind us staggering. Then, we got back into the canoes and paddled back up the river to our starting place. The trash was minimal but we still had bits and pieces of things when we got back. Heather and I were the first to get back and I was grateful to be back so that I could take off my wet shoes and wash my feet off. The other group came back and said they had saw a manatee. I learned then that Heather had seen bubbles but I saw no sign of it. I wish I would have, I have only seen manatees once in the wild and that was when I was in the ocean a few years back. Putting the canoes away, I thought to myself how different this part of the river was, as compared to park we had been the two previous times. The river was difficult to maneuver but it was cool to see it through a different perspective. As our last service learning experience came to an end, I was sad that I wouldn't be able to come back and make more of a different but pleased at the work we had gotten done in such a short time.