long beak and sticky tongue, pulls out an insect.
“You fooled me this time Woody,” Ryan says, “It won’t happen again.”
Ryan turns around in the pond and makes the short walk back to the path. Looking back he says, “It wasn’t a total waste of time, I got to see some cool stuff,” and as he continued brushing and walking he thinks about how interesting the swamp is, and maybe not so scary and dangerous after all. But Oh! How a person’s opinion can change in just a moments time.
With the next two ribbons Ryan progresses through the knee deep sweet gum swamp with ease. He ties the seventh of ten ribbons on a cypress tree as the sweet gums are giving way to cypress. The swamp is only ankle deep now as the ground is rising to meet the banks of the river. He looks ahead to try and see a tell-tale sign, but at seven hundred and fifty feet it is too far away. He reaches in the backpack and pulls out the water bottle and after dropping it bends over to pick it up. His hand brushes a lump just above his ankle and rolling his pant leg up he exposes one of the blood gorged leaches. He screams.
“Get it off me! Get it of me! ” he shakes his leg violently but it does no good. He grabs it and squeezing it, rips the leach off of his leg—the blood pours down. He stares at the wound in disbelief. It burns with pain as he splashes water on the wound. He wants the bleeding to stop but it takes time—leaches secrete an enzyme to keep the blood from clotting. Ryan has never seen a leach, nor does he know how to properly remove one.
Never squeeze it. Squeezing causes the leach to vomit bacteria into the wound which may cause an infection. You should slip your finger or a knife blade under the mouth and lift it off without squeezing it. Once off the bleeding slows as the blood clots. Removing a leach is harder on the mind than the wound. Later, Ryan will have three more chances to improve his removal technique.
He wraps one of the socks from the backpack around the wound . He thought about using the first aid kit but decided it should wait until he makes camp. He did not want to drop any of its contents into the swamp. With gritted teeth he presses on.
It’s not the wound that’s the concern now, but rather the very traceable trail of blood that he will leave behind—leading to his campsite. Not to mention three more bleeding wounds, soon to be exposed to the danger of the drifting night air.
Chapter Fourteen
The last of the ribbons went very well for Ryan. His greatest discomfort, other than the leach bite, was that he felt as though he were a walking “blood-bag” to the various biting insects. This misery was soon dispelled by the shallow water giving way to dry ground. The dank and dense gum tree swamp gave way to a more spacious and airy cluster of large cypress trees. This, together with the fact that the ground was rising, told Ryan that he was about to come upon a large body of water. With the GPS meter ticking down to 2.1 miles—he crested the rising grade and stood looking in awe at the mighty and majestic Oklawaha River!
“ Yes, I have made the river, and feel that breeze !” Ryan said to the wind blowing in from the river.
He is on one side of a seventy five foot wide dry and level embankment, perhaps eight feet above the river. A few feet in front of him lay a well-worn path which runs off to the left and to the right. He walks across the path to the other side of the embankment and stops to look down. It is thirty feet further to the river, ten feet of slope to the water’s edge, and then twenty feet of large towering cypress trees before reaching the river channel. The river made a soothing lapping sound, breaking on the toe of the slope. Ryan is set back from view of any immediate boat traffic. As his father had told him it would be difficult if not impossible to be seen and heard from a passing boat.
His father had never mentioned the well-worn path along the embankment. That is because
“You fooled me this time Woody,” Ryan says, “It won’t happen again.”
Ryan turns around in the pond and makes the short walk back to the path. Looking back he says, “It wasn’t a total waste of time, I got to see some cool stuff,” and as he continued brushing and walking he thinks about how interesting the swamp is, and maybe not so scary and dangerous after all. But Oh! How a person’s opinion can change in just a moments time.
With the next two ribbons Ryan progresses through the knee deep sweet gum swamp with ease. He ties the seventh of ten ribbons on a cypress tree as the sweet gums are giving way to cypress. The swamp is only ankle deep now as the ground is rising to meet the banks of the river. He looks ahead to try and see a tell-tale sign, but at seven hundred and fifty feet it is too far away. He reaches in the backpack and pulls out the water bottle and after dropping it bends over to pick it up. His hand brushes a lump just above his ankle and rolling his pant leg up he exposes one of the blood gorged leaches. He screams.
“Get it off me! Get it of me! ” he shakes his leg violently but it does no good. He grabs it and squeezing it, rips the leach off of his leg—the blood pours down. He stares at the wound in disbelief. It burns with pain as he splashes water on the wound. He wants the bleeding to stop but it takes time—leaches secrete an enzyme to keep the blood from clotting. Ryan has never seen a leach, nor does he know how to properly remove one.
Never squeeze it. Squeezing causes the leach to vomit bacteria into the wound which may cause an infection. You should slip your finger or a knife blade under the mouth and lift it off without squeezing it. Once off the bleeding slows as the blood clots. Removing a leach is harder on the mind than the wound. Later, Ryan will have three more chances to improve his removal technique.
He wraps one of the socks from the backpack around the wound . He thought about using the first aid kit but decided it should wait until he makes camp. He did not want to drop any of its contents into the swamp. With gritted teeth he presses on.
It’s not the wound that’s the concern now, but rather the very traceable trail of blood that he will leave behind—leading to his campsite. Not to mention three more bleeding wounds, soon to be exposed to the danger of the drifting night air.
Chapter Fourteen
The last of the ribbons went very well for Ryan. His greatest discomfort, other than the leach bite, was that he felt as though he were a walking “blood-bag” to the various biting insects. This misery was soon dispelled by the shallow water giving way to dry ground. The dank and dense gum tree swamp gave way to a more spacious and airy cluster of large cypress trees. This, together with the fact that the ground was rising, told Ryan that he was about to come upon a large body of water. With the GPS meter ticking down to 2.1 miles—he crested the rising grade and stood looking in awe at the mighty and majestic Oklawaha River!
“ Yes, I have made the river, and feel that breeze !” Ryan said to the wind blowing in from the river.
He is on one side of a seventy five foot wide dry and level embankment, perhaps eight feet above the river. A few feet in front of him lay a well-worn path which runs off to the left and to the right. He walks across the path to the other side of the embankment and stops to look down. It is thirty feet further to the river, ten feet of slope to the water’s edge, and then twenty feet of large towering cypress trees before reaching the river channel. The river made a soothing lapping sound, breaking on the toe of the slope. Ryan is set back from view of any immediate boat traffic. As his father had told him it would be difficult if not impossible to be seen and heard from a passing boat.
His father had never mentioned the well-worn path along the embankment. That is because
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