The muck that oozes into tennis shoes. Linda is in front of me, making funny noises. The muck that coats the swamp floor so deeply that only a foot of my fully extended Lekis peeps out above the waterline as I probe ahead for footing. I require help to push my poles back together again before they are ruined. I probe less deeply after learning that lesson.
Water seems to gravitate to the trail corridor.
Ann yells back. Another hiker down in a hole. Looks like Tom this time. I'm glad I'm second to last in line. The hiking poles are a necessity the first time I've found them of any use in Florida.