The Source: Goose Nest Creek to Black Jack Road (3 Bridges)

3/11/12
In an effort to “paddle” every section of the Wolf River, we decided to put in as close to the true headwaters as possible. After much debate, altimeter readings and water flow estimation, a group of river guides decided that the true source of the Wolf River is east of Goose Nest Lake. Since this area is private, John Henry and I chose to start on Goose Nest Creek where it enters public land at Holly Springs National Forest. It was a mostly cloudy day with temps in the low 60s. The water in the creek was clear.
After entering the forest, we pulled our canoes about a hundred yards from the road through the woods to the creek. The red clay creek bank rose at least ten feet from the sandy creek bed. So, we moved along the lip of the bank until we found a small tributary that provided us access to the water. The creek was too shallow to float our boats with us in them, but the water could easily carry the boats as we held the towropes that were tied to the bow of our boats. John described it as walking a dog. At times, the boats would even move ahead of us like a dog. The creek was fairly straight with a white sand/ red clay bottom. I assume that it had been dredged at some point in the past. We made note of our passing of the Baker’s Pond Stream. This stream is about a third of the size of Goose Nest Creek. Thus giving legitimacy to the creek being the major source of the Wolf River. As we walked, smaller creeks began to enter the Goose Nest mostly from the left. This slowly increased the volume of water. Booker Creek also entered from the left and at this point we could paddle our canoes. We floated easily downstream and our only obstacles were a few logs over which we had to pull our boats. I perfected a trick that I had seen others do in canoes. I paddled hard towards a log and made it half way over then moved forward to change the center of gravity of the boat. I usually kneeled at the front of the canoe and paddled the rest of the way over the log. Sometimes I did have to get out. I slipped and fell at one of the log crossings, but luckily the water did not top my chest waders. John and I agreed that the best way to traverse this area is in single seat canoes while wearing chest waders. According to maps, the land here is public national forest, but we passed privately owned parcels with houses and deer stands.
We reached a point where to steep banked creek open into a broad plain where the water spread out. The channel split into multiple directions and disappeared into heavy brush. It was at this point that we realized that neither one of us could get a phone signal. We would not have access to online maps or GPS. We would have to go through blind.
We attempted to follow the channel with the most water. The ridges on either side of the valley were visible, but a definitive river channel was difficult to find. This caused us to zig zag back and forth through the brush. The water was too shallow to float and the mud was too deep to lead our boats. So, I ended up pushing my boat while putting my weight on the stern so I wouldn’t sink above my knees in the mud. We trudged through different types of mud as we went. The worst was the dark green mud that rested below the layer of surface brown mud. When the green mud was combined with a web of grasses and dead water plants, walking became difficult. Some of the vegetation was actually pretty. For example, we entered an area of iron wood hummocks. The trees grew in tight clusters, and we pushed our boats under their spreading branches. Gradually, the water became deeper and we were able to ride in our canoes again. The vegetation changed with the water. Dead annual plants now surrounded us. One particular species had small cones. There wasn’t room to use our paddles. So, we had to pull ourselves through the brush by grabbing branches and pulling forward. Luckily, it was too cool for snakes.
Our channel grew in size as other rivulets joined it. Then we were in the old river channel. The government had cut a canal through the river bed 100 years ago. Over time the water has gradually returned to the old channel. We followed its serpentine curves realizing this was a beautiful area. There were rock ledges at one point, totally unheard of on the Wolf. The south bank of the old channel was covered in moss and holes riddeled the bank. One was even large enough for a
human to enter. We speculated that maybe it was the liar of a bear. A short time late we reached the Chapman Bridge.We finished the first section in about 4 hours.
We decide to go ahead and try for Three Bridges since we were already here. The river channel continued for a time, but then we lost it. We were back in the brush. John termed it the “Hell Woods”. At least at this point, we could float through it . The brush was too close together to paddle so we once again pulled ourselves through by grabbing the branches. We did this for well over a mile. At one point, we spotted a heron rookery. About a dozen large nests occupied a large tree. The great blue herons sat on the nests or perched nearby. We also went through a series of beaver ponds. The water would get deeper and still. We could hear running water getting closer. Once we got to the dam, we had to find the best runnel to the other side. We followed the small channel to the next pond. This pattern continued over and over. Sometimes, the beaver dam had a break and we followed the swift moving channel through the gap. A few of them looked like small waterfalls, and we called paddling them “running the rapids”. We also began to see parrot feather floating on top of the water. Parrot feather is a floating water plant that looks like green feathers. I was behind John by about 40 yards, when I spotted an otter. He saw me about the same time and bounded away. At times, we pushed straight through walls of brush until we found a small channel to follow. Once again other channels came together until we were floating in the old river channel. We passed under a foot bridge, and I saw that the land had been cleared. This was the property of the land owner who given us permission to camp on his property. We saw his two Polaris boats, hunting blind and duck decoys. We decided to go ahead and try for the bridge that was about 30 minutes away. Unfortunately, when we left his property, we lost the main channel. We should have stayed to the right. Instead, we drifted to the left of the line of trees in the middle of the river. This brought us into the heaviest brush. As they say, “ If you are dumb, you had better be tough”. We toughed it out and continued straight through heavy vegetation. It started the sprinkle, the rain drops made a rattling sound as it hit the dry grass. I continued to follow John through the heaviest brush. He was talking the whole time. I don’t know if he was talking to me, himself or some one else. I felt as if I were following an apparition. Because of fatigue, I was beginning to wonder if I was hallucinating. However, I continued forward. I could see the bridge before I could see open water. Instead of following the main channel to the right bridge, we came out of the brush right next to the middle bridge.This area is not easy to traverse. I have to warn people not to try to "float" this section or to cross private property without permission.