Live Oak Blues What happens.

So anyway, I hadn’t been out on the water in weeks because, you see, it’s a tad dry here, and by dry I mean drier than I have ever seen it–so dry, in fact, that the Newnan’s canoes are exposed again (reference for the locals). If I want to do some paddling in actual water, I have to go out to either coast and I just don’t have the time right now. Nevertheless, that did not stop me (nor the hapless motorboat who put in just ahead of me) from giving it a shot right at the main dock at Newnan’s.

Long story short, I was poling through mud the whole time, as was the motorboat. “You scoutin’?” he asked, thereby keeping intact my streak for getting questioned about kayaking simply to kayak. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m scouting for some water.” Thus began our 30-minute discussion on how dry the lake was. What else were we going to do? Well, we also talked about our mutually admired gator-hunting show, “Swamp People.”

In the process, I felt something hop out of the water and down my back. Rather than jump in the water (never a good idea on Newnan’s) to investigate, I let it ride and found the poor l’il fella on your right, much the worse for the long trip back to shore under my prodigious buttocks. He, too, thought he could find water where it wasn’t.