LIVE OAK, Fla. — Friday morning, a lingering fog lifted off the Suwannee River like a thick curtain, revealing an ageless splendor, starting the final act of my unforgettable eco-adventure.

My journey 21 miles down Florida’s majestic Suwannee River started with a night under the stars Thursday, before a departure on my own human-powered craft Friday, and resulting in a trip through gentle currents, whirling eddies, flush green canopies, hydro-carved yellow, white and green limestone geometrical murals and weathered, flowing Spanish moss.

The muse of so many songs, photos and paintings portraying a more simple and peaceful time played host to more than 160 paddlers, adventure seekers, all-around outdoor enthusiasts and a few out-of-place journalists starting last Thursday and stretching on to this upcoming Thursday.

The large gathering was constructed by paddler Bill Richards and dubbed “Paddle Florida,” bringing people together to enjoy the wondrous aquatic playground. It was a gathering that brought together people ranging in age from their teens to their retirement, from as close as Gainesville, Fla., and as far away as Colorado Springs, Colo.

Paddle Florida started Thursday with the party of people gathering at Suwannee Music Park in Live Oak, Fla., dropping off more than 100 kayaks of dozens of shapes, sizes and colors on the river bank, and then setting up slightly less wondrous and appealing tents.

Heading into my first-ever night’s sleep without a shingled roof top above my head, the campground was an odd sight. Located against the white fences of a horse stable, with campers petting the manes of two horses, the camping area packed with nearly 100 nylon igloos looked like a holiday for the green-thumbed, and, at the same time, a scene from a movie involving battle-headed soldiers or battle-worn refugees.

It, of course, proved to be the former.

Night on the Suwannee

After the tent-building guidance of Navy Reserve member, VDT photographer and life-long South Georgian raised around the outdoors Pat Gallagher, my tent went up in no time. Which is still a surprise, because Harvey Campbell, the Executive Director of the Columbia County Board of County Commissioners, set me up with a tent the size of a small home. Designed for four people, the blue-colored tent gave me plenty of room to stretch and move around, which would be needed during the frigid night ahead of me.

But first, it was time to unwind, mingle and explore.

With a full week together ahead of the Paddle Florida group, everyone was quick to say hello and spark up a friendly conversation that I say would even rise above the famed Southern hospitality. I met a nearby tent neighbor who appeared around the same age and came to the Suwannee after being e-mailed the event’s Web site by a fellow paddler.

Having spent most of his paddling days in the Everglades and Biscayne Bay in South Florida, he was eager to take to the Suwannee River. Like several other river voyagers, he was in a professional place to make his own schedule and could make the week-long trip. Many of the travelers had a job where a week’s vacation was feasible, or they could make their own schedules. The rest were retirees who traveled to such vacation spots, and others were from nearby areas. But all had the similar interest of being in the outdoors, as several had also competed in cycle road races.

I, however, had just competed in one 8K and was along for the ride.

That ride included staying in place, first by a fire under a full moon over my right shoulder and Orion pointing his arrow over my left shoulder. If I were wise and had flame-retardant pants, I would have slipped a spark into my pocket because the night got cold. Before I tried to sleep through the chills and the snores reaching past the not-so-sound-proof walls of my tent, I enjoyed the time spent around the fire.

Paddlers continued to get to know each other, telling tales of their previous adventures, discussing the sites of a nearby bat house, and even regaling a poem made on a restless night.