Econfina falls and the Fountaineers

Posted Nov 22, 2006 by Mike DeWitt

Updated Nov 27, 2006 at 12:14 PM

See Econfina Waterfall video

Keepin’ warm, hikers?

I unzipped my tent this morning and for the first time in three days a sheet of ice didn’t drop into the spacious vestibule of Big Agnes.  I popped out of the other side of Econfina yesterday afternoon.  What a place!!!

It has been said that the Econfina section is the beautiful part of the Florida Trail.  After three days of living within its lush confines I can understand that point of view as clearly as Econfina Creek’s spring-uttered waters.

It was on the chilly side.  Highs in the mid-50’s lows in the low, low, low 30’s.  The real crowd-pleaser was the wind.  Before it showed up I had the brilliant notion of taking the blue-blazed trail (leads to water) that showed a sweet campsite situated on a strip between Rattlesnake Lake and a sink-like smaller lake.  Wouldn’t you know that I’d chosen the windiest, coldest and – certainly – the most beautiful campsite on the trail?  I admit to a late start the next morning.  It took three cups of coffee to fully and properly thaw my enthusiasm.

I had a chance to re-flag a part of the trail as well.  As I headed toward Devil’s Hole, the trail emptied out onto a huge opening of clear-cut.  Clear cut is what is left after the timber industry harvests the timber.  All they left behind was a few spindly trees and the Florida Trail signpost.  There was no sign of trail beyond it.  This is why it pays to buy the Florida Trail’s maps and why it pays great dividends to know your way around a compass.

The map indicated the trail led east so that’s where I headed, flagging my route with orange tape I appropriated from my Nokuse expedition with the Trail Hogs.  I used it up on my way across.  Bob and Tom, there’s one blaze-able tree on the way through the wasteland. FYI

The GPS cords are –
West side –  N 30 27.564   W 085 33.021
East side –  N 30 27.508   W 085 33.170

I reached Devil’s Hole camp around mid afternoon, which means an hour before dark.  It is here that a prodigious spring boils from the limestone bottom of the Econfina, The volume of the creek appears to double as a result of its contribution, a feature that makes Devil’s Hole a favorite swimming hole among those in the know.  Like you.

The trail becomes Appalachian Trail-like once Devil’s Hole is in the rear-view.  Small, spring-fed creeks abound – one reason the Northwest Florida Water Management District has claimed these lands as a protected watershed.  Nice job, ya’ll. 

There are so many bridges in this section that I could almost write a coffee table book called the “Bridges of Econfina Creek.”  From single-logs crossings to high-wire suspension acts, this place has them all.  What a blast!

The main attraction of Econfina is Florida’s only true waterfall.  I’ll post pictures of it and this beautiful section later today.  It lies surrounded by old-growth magnolia and oak.  It’s no tourist attraction by along shot.  No observation platform, no bench from which to contemplate nature’s miracles, nope, none of that.  Here you’ll find a steep, leaf-covered bank that prompted me to tie off my pack during the photo shoot to keep it from tumbling into the chilly flow of the Econfina.  I tried to shoot some video for you, and by crackety, I think I may have had some success, there.  I’ll leave it to brilliant technical capabilities of tbo.com to be the final judge of my decidedly amateur effort at film making.

A little over a mile later – I keep time by way of distance – an interesting development that I like.  It’s cool, isn’t it?  Yeah.

So that brings me to today.  Blogworthy all by itself, it is.  I awakened on private property about a mile north of the Scotts Road trailhead – the sad northern terminus of the Econfina section.  This forlorn trailhead gives absolutely no proper indication of the breathtaking wilderness that lays only a ten minute walk down a scrub-lined sandy trail.  Maybe that’s good.  The jury is still out on that.

Anyhow, I got at zero dark thirty to make sure I was un-trespassed before the locals found me out.  No coffee, no oatmeal – just the seabag-drag ASAP.  Light was breaking over the trees when I began my lonely 20-mile roadwalk to Blountstown. Bummer, huh?

NO WAY!  I’d gone about three miles and change when I stumbled upon Midget’s Lounge.  Yup, and it was open, ya’ll.  No kidding.  They were cleaning up and invited me inside for a cup of coffee.  Can you believe it?  Hot strong coffee made by new friend Dave Padelt, who cleans up after the night crowd.  Good stuff.

Well, let’s just say that they get started early around Betts, FL.  Just down the road a piece from Fountain, Fl. These “Fountaineers” –their term, not mine - are some good people and Midget’s Lounge is their headquarters.  Owned by Aretha Brooks and manned – or more precisely womanned – by her sister, Penny.  her husband, Big Al, a veteran of the Vietnam War will take over for her tonight.  Depending on the date and time of your arrival you might meet Ebony or Donna, two beauties who woman the counter from time to time.

Okay- can you stand another trail angel story?  Or have you quit believing in angels?  Prepare to have your faith restored…again.

They offered me their electric power, several graciously declined beers –jeez, it’s only 9am! – and a delicious chicken and rice lunch - oh man…cooked up by Aretha herself.  Too dadgum good, ya’ll. 

And that’s where I am right now.  Sitting nearest the plug at the end of the bar, writing you a tale of America at its best.  These are hard working, hard partying people who are exactly what you see.  They fuss at each other, drink with each other and look after each other.  Midget’s has a couple of pool tables, Ray Charles on the jukebox and a pot-luck Thanksgiving Dinner tomorrow - don’t forget that it’s Karaoke Night , ya’ll.

There’s Ron Padgett, the retired Air Force guy who just might buy a computer.  There’s Denise, a sweet woman who can dish it out with the best of ‘em.  There are at least three Mikes – all of them cool.  And then there’s John, a big, strapping, booming-voiced vet who was a body guard for Mick Jagger.  Believe it, it’s true. And then their Howard, a jovial sort and a descendant from one of the area’s first families to settle in these parts.

So, coming to you live from Midget’s Lounge, an oasis of hospitality located at the intersection of CR 167 and US 231 and home of the Fountaineers ….

Cheers, and yes, I mean cheers,  from the Florida Trail.

PS Hey Scout leader that I saw on the trail but you didn’t see me because you were too busy screaming at the kids.  Quit overloading your kids and quit yelling at them if you want them to enjoy backpacking.  They’re Boy Scouts, not grunts, you cement-headed wanna-be.  (Expletives deleted grudgingly by the author)