Disclosure: We partner with affiliates to fund our journeys. Thank you for supporting women in the wild!
The gravel road whispered beneath my tires as I rolled into Goose Pasture Campground, a hidden sanctuary along Florida’s Wacissa River. A faded wooden sign greeted me: “Free Camping, First Come First Served”, its letters weathered but legible. No frills, no reservations—just a handful of picnic tables, fire pits crowned with ash, and porta-potties tucked near the tree line. I parked beneath a sprawling live oak, its branches heavy with Spanish moss, and whipered in the quiet.
Dusk: Settling Into Simplicity
I claimed a riverside site, the Wacissa’s clear, chilly water shimmering in the fading light. First, I pitched my Tent , its rainfly taut against the evening breeze. Next, I strung my Hammock between two oaks, swaying gently as I unpacked. The campground hummed with life—not people, but nature. A family of raccoons skittered near the trash cans, their masked faces glowing in my headlamp’s beam, while fireflies dotted the shadows like tiny lanterns.
By the fire pit, I grilled veggie kebabs over crackling flames, the smoke weaving through the trees. Across the river, a mullet vaulted into the air, its silver body catching the last golden rays of sun. Jumping mullet, I’d learn, were the Wacissa’s punctuation marks—unexpected, playful, constant.
Nightfall: Stars and Shadows
Darkness draped the campground like a velvet cloak. With very limited cell service, the world narrowed to the fire’s glow and the river’s murmur. I settled into my hammock, wrapped in a Puffy Blanket, and watched the Milky Way spill overhead. A rustle in the underbrush froze me—a deer, delicate and ghostly, stepped into the clearing. We locked eyes for a heartbeat before she vanished, leaving only hoofprints in the sand.
Later, as embers faded, an armadillo trundled past my tent, its armored shell clinking faintly against rocks. Somewhere downstream, a possum’s hiss punctuated the night. I smiled, feeling like a guest in a secret wild kingdom.
Dawn: Chasing Blue Hole
At first light, I paddled my Sea Eagle Inflatable Kayak upstream, the chilly water numbing my fingers. The river narrowed, funneling me toward Blue Hole, a deep, cerulean plunge where sunlight fractured into liquid sapphire. Mullet schooled here, their shadows darting across the limestone below. I dipped my hand into the current, the cold sharp and invigorating, then floated silently, watching dragonflies skim the surface.
Back at camp, I warmed my hands at the fire pit, sipping coffee from my Outdoors Infinity Mug. A game warden stopped by, nodding at the tidy trash cans. “Folks forget this place isn’t truly remote,” she said. “But the critters? They remind us.”
Why Goose Pasture?
This isn’t luxury. The porta-potties are basic, the river’s chill bites, and raccoons will test your food storage. But here, the fire pits gather stories, the picnic tables bear generations of initials, and the wild things—deer, armadillos, possums—stitch you into the land’s quiet rhythm. It’s a place to unplug, to breathe, to remember that solitude doesn’t mean being alone.
Gear Mentioned (Affiliate Links):
- Forceatt Tent for 2 and 3 Person
- ENO DoubleNest Hammock
- Rumpl Puffy Blanket
- Sea Eagle Inflatable Kayak
- GSI Outdoors Infinity Mug
Ready to find your solitude? Download our Goose Pasture Essentials Guide here and tag your starlit moments with #WhereTheWildWhispers.
Disclosure: We partner with affiliates to fund our journeys. Thank you for supporting women in the wild!
Final Note:
Goose Pasture doesn’t dazzle—it connects. Between mullet leaps and armadillo visits, you’ll find a quiet truth: the best stories are written not on screens, but under stars. 🌌🦝