Down on the Bayou.

We pulled up to the “Bayou Barn” and the gravel parking lot was full. Cars parked in all the parking spots plus all the grassy areas around. “This many people are canoeing?” I wondered if there would be any canoes left for us to rent. But then I noticed that the people seemed to be a little too dressed up for a day canoeing in the swamps. “Is that woman wearing a wedding dress?” KJ questioned. Sure enough, these people were not at the Bayou Barn for canoeing, but for a wedding – Louisiana style.

After awkwardly walking around the building in search of a front office we got back in the car. We were about ready to leave when we spotted a self-conscious teenager hanging his head as he fumbled around with the canoes on the rack. We got out of the car and sure enough it was his first day as an employee of the Bayou Barn. He led us right through the wedding reception, past the keg, excused our way by the boogying bridesmaids and made it into the office where Ms. Linda was there to help us out. Well, maybe I shouldn’t call it ‘help’. I asked her if we would see alligators, she said, “Oh, yeah, bay-bay, they be all out in that swamp.” I was satisfied. She asked KJ and I to sign on the line. She took our money, held my ID, and handed us a map that looked like a blurry ink splatter with sharpie arrows on it because it had been copied so many times. Then she turned and said, “Have fun.” There was no, “Have you ever been in a canoe before?” or “Don’t stand up in the boat” or “This is what you should do if you get bitten by a venomous Water Moccasin.” Nor did she advise us not to feed the wildlife, or pick the flowers, or go for a swim. She didn’t tell us that the swamp would be covered in plants that are very hard to row through or even a time that we should be back.

We walked over to the canoe, sat down, the awkward teen handed us some life jackets that were made in 1971 and would surely sink to the bottom of the swamp. Then he pushed us into the swamp. Moments later as we tried to get some rhythm my heart started to pound. I finally realized that while it was super exciting to have our freedom, I was not prepared to have an alligator swim passed our little canoe. Eventually we both got more comfortable or maybe just distracted by the fact that we were rowing through thick swamp plants that made it seem like we were actually on land. Two hours of that and we were worn out.

It was a beautiful day and we had such an amazing time. We saw some snakes, lots of frogs, but were disappointed that the only gators we did see were far off swimming ahead of us. We headed back the way we came to check out the other end of the swamp. To get there we had to pass by the Bayou Barn and the reception had really gotten started by then. The music was blaring and all we could do was laugh. So just about 50 yards later we really get stuck in the plants. We rowed and rowed until we finally broke loose and picked up some speed through the water. Just then there was a splash just a few feet in front of the boat and KJ says, “Uh, we really shouldn’t run into this one.” I thought she was talking about the little gator that was swimming away from us, but when she very sternly said “GET OUT YOUR CAMERA”, I took a second look. About 15 feet off to the left side of the boat was the largest alligator I have ever seen taking a nap on a small island. I felt about the same as last summer when we crossed paths with a huge grizzly bear in Glacier National Park. The gator was probably about 200 pounds, significantly smaller than the grizzly, but this time we were drifting towards the beast instead of backing away. The alligator had it’s inner eye lids closed and what seemed like a million very sharp teeth glistening in the sun. The gator was so still that KJ asked, “Is that real”. “Why would there be a fake gator out here?” I questioned. Our eyes never left that powerful animal as we continued to drift closer. Suddenly, in a flash the brute opened its eyes and dove into the water disappearing under the duckweed. Now this was the point that said my prayers. We had no idea where it went.

I had my ore sticking straight into the air, legs crossed, arms wrapped around my body in attempt to stay as far as possible away from the edges of that rickety old canoe. I thought I was going to pee in my pants. We spent a minute silently looking around in the water hoping for some sign that the gator was gone. Finally, when our heart rates evened out we finished up our adventure. And what an adventure it turned out to be. Anyone up for a trip to the bayou?