I set out on the creek, today, at low tide. The creek was still flooded from recent rainfall. I decided I would go for a paddle on the creek, regardless of whether I could go mudding. I took a trash bag so I could clean up the trash on the creek, and I took my cameras, in case I found something interesting to record.

I decided to check out the peat mud, on my way past. There was some water around the spot, but it was good enough for a quick sink, so I set up a video camera and took a quick dip.

I recorded a death-by-quickmud scene, then I recorded some closeup muddy crotch shots, and my final cleanup. I had to keep it brief, because the sun would be setting soon. Normally, I wouldn’t even try to catch a low tide this late, but I wanted to scout the creek.

After getting cleaned up, I continued picking up trash on the creek until I was running out of daylight. It started raining on my return paddle. It’s raining now, as I type this. I’m afraid that my mudding opportunities will be really limited for at least another week.

The good news is that I managed to record some more video in the swamp. I’ll be releasing something this week, although I’m not sure what.

The low tide was sometime between 5 and 6pm on Sunday. The low tide left something to be desired, so I took a detour and checked out the peat swamp. The peat hadn’t drained well, so I spent a little time, cleaning up the trail and headed back onto the creek. I paddled down the creek to the thick mud spot that gets exposed before some of my other spots. It’s probably my favorite spot, anyway; unless I’m doing bondage.

Experience told me I probably wouldn’t have long to play in the mud before the tide came rushing in, so I just grabbed the GoPro and jumped into the mud. I didn’t set up the primary camera or the shotgun mic with separate audio recorder. There just wasn’t time for that, and I hadn’t been in the mud in over a week.

It turned out to be a pretty good sink, if you like the feeling of being encased in thick mud. In the picture at the top, I’m standing vertically, and my legs are embedded in some thick clay. I had to work for every inch, but I could lock my feet in the clay to resist my natural buoyancy. I managed to sink just to the point where the mud was closing over my face and I could no longer breath. It wasn’t hard to come back up, but it was nearly impossible to go any deeper. I could barely bend my knees, and my body was determined to float back up.

The entire time I was working at those last few inches, I was totally encased in some really great mud. I could feel it, holding every inch of my body, and resisting every move I made.

When the tide was threatening to overtake me, I wriggled out, rinsed off, and paddled out to the main creek for a pleasant swim. By that time, the sun was hanging low in the sky. It was time to get back in the kayak and take a leisurely paddle back to the car. I didn’t bother to shower when I got home. I could still smell the mud when I woke up this morning.