Day 2

In my hurried retreat from Oasis the previous night, I did what I had planned to all along, which was for fill up with 4 liters of water. I had assumed this would be enough to cook and clean with and still leave me 2 plus liters for water for the next days hiking. This was a wholly incorrect assumption. To start the day I have just shy of 1liter. My next potential water source is at Seven Mile camp, some five miles ahead. Alternatively, I could stash my pack out of plain site and backtrack a mile to fill up at Oasis, adding 2 miles to my day. Given the soar state of most my body, I opt for moving on, knowing I will run out of water well before I reach Seven Mile Camp. Before embarking, a group of four hikers pass by my camp and we exchange hellos. As I set out, my pack seems heavier than yesterday. I am definitely soar and moving slow. I keep apprised of the time to measure my pace. Through this portion of Big Cypress (south of I 75), cumulative distance is marked every mile with trail markers that also indicate GPS coordinates and elevation. The trail on this side of Oasis is notably drier than that to the south. The elevation yesterday was 20-21ft, today it is between 24-25 ft. While this, perhaps may seem nominal (certainly those more familiar with more mountainous trails may scoff) this little bit of difference is enough to keep my feet dry and the trail more consistent. The trail here is mostly through tall pine forests with low lying palm bushes. The footing is still limestone. So although more solid underfoot, I must still exercise great caution. The limestone pockets here are much deeper and often covered with pine needles. Stepping into one would, at the very least, result in a severely sprained ankle and a rather bruised shin. After 2 miles my pace is determinedly quicker at 2 miles an hour. This is enough to keep my spirits up despite my body's protestations. After only a brief while, I come upon the group that had passed me earlier. They are splayed out across the trail and looking tired. I gathered from a brief Q & A that they have started at Oasis and headed to I 75 and that their destination tonight was the same as mine. Not wanting to dally, I push on.
Keeping to my pace I am making good time. At points the trail joins with broader swamp buggy roads. The are often deep, muddy and rutted lanes as wide a standard dirt road but only passable by the vehicle that created them and for which they are named. If you have never seen one, a swamp buggy is an impressive sight to behold. They are like monster trucks without the truck. Tires 3-4 ft tall with an even larger suspension, so that the driver and passengers may sit 8ft or more above the ground.
It is on a buggy road that I happened upon a rather large rattle snake. At least 5 inches in diameter and I'm guessing 6 feet long. It was curled up on the edge of the road, and when it felt me coming it started to-a-rattle. Generally I expect smaller creatures to be more fearsome of larger ones. When I see a bear, I try to keep my distance (after I've taken a few photos of course). I suspect that is what all the rattling is about. It sees something more imposing than itself and puts up the defenses. Rattling is its first line of defense, biting and injecting poisonous venom perhaps its second. I was really hoping that slithering away was higher up the list, but this snake is staying put. I step back a few yards to assess if there is another way around. Sure enough I could trudge through the palm bushes and low hanging vines (which are sure to snag my pack), creating all kinds of noise and vibrations that this snake is sure to appreciate, and at the same time eliminating my first line of defense (which is to run). After about ten minutes of deliberation I go for it. Slowly I step into the woods, keeping my eye on the rattler the entire time. The closer I am to him the faster his rattling gets. Then all of a sudden... I get beyond the snake and don't look back (well actually I did, a lot). That episode behind me I can focus on getting to my destination.
As I had anticipated I ran out of water 2 miles from 7 mile camp, so when I arrive I am parched. My book indicates that water is accessible from the cypress dome nearby. Still not certain what that is, I look around me and notice a broad grouping of cypress off to the west. Surely that must be it. As I make my way toward it I take note that trees to the periphery are smaller while those toward the center much taller. This is exactly why they're referred to as domes. Inside the dome water abounds. When I was preparing for this adventure, I had to choose between water treatment versus filtering. I will not bore you with the details of that here. One thing, though, that helped me make a decision to filter was what my coworker Fred said. He pointed out that it can be kind of zen. It forces you to be right there in the moment. You can look around you and notice all that's happening. In a flooded cypress dome so much is happening. Each step I took closer to the waters edge, sent another few water fowl flying up to the branches above, until in one great flurry, several dozen birds took flight. Many stayed above as I completed my task. It is quite remarkable the impact just the presence of one human can make upon such a place.
Once done filtering water, I returned to the camp and allowed myself the simple luxury I had denied myself at breakfast; a cup of coffee. I then rested a bit longer, starring up at the tall pines and the bright blue sky.
I finished the final 3 miles to ten mile camp and set up my tent. The group that I met earlier in the day arrived later and we all prepared our meals together. I was able to gather a little more about them as we ate around the fire. Apparently two of them had done this portion of the hike while the other two had not. They were each carrying 4 gallons of water (that's 32 lbs) and estimated pack weights at somewhere around 70 lbs. One of the rookies approached my tent later to ask if I had advice on fixing blisters. He had worn his Timberland construction boots and cotton socks and was obviously suffering for it. I offered him some supplies from my first aid kit and wished them all good night. I had no way of knowing this was just the beginning of an epic adventure for this rag tag group.