What a day! Waking up again with the sun and mosquitos and damp, then setting off on dry, level forest road.
There’s something lovely about hiking after the bubble. It may be getting hotter, but I have the sites to myself. Lovely sites with picnic tables and a perfect little spot for the alicoop.
Yellow-rumped warblers and cardinals along with a few squawky grackles follow me through this lush tunnel where it still feels shaded.
And what is that ahead on the trail? A big bird walking ahead. No. Birds don’t have four legs and huge tails. Or pointy ears and whiskers.
It’s a Florida Panther!
I had a feeling I’d see him here on this dryer portion of the Big Cypress. She studies me for a moment, slender looking straight on with his big cat paws daintily touching, though I imagine he sees many a hiker pass by.
I do just as I’m told and make myself look big then speak in a low, loud voice – still nicely of course. She slips off the right side, then, as I move closer, changes her mind and crosses to the left, disappearing into the thick foliage without a sound.
But that allows me one more view of her beautiful sinuous body, soft and lovely, powerful and lethal, striding past without a hint of hurry.
It’s magical.
It’s not long before I reach the Seminole Reservation and a long string of cars parked on the road. About fifty men are here to spray for invasives. Most speak Spanish and have three-foot long machetes at their sides. They finish breakfast burritos to a little mariachi and all wish me a buenos dias.
A little further along, I meet a Wildlife Specialist named Alberto. He offers me a Pepsi and we share pictures of panthers. One has kittens now and he tells me the two of them are on speaking terms.
Alberto also keeps tabs on us hikers. We need to sign a document before walking on these lands – and have it notorized – that we’ll follow the rules including no camping or drinking. I’m certain Alberto knows exactly who should be here and who shouldn’t.
It makes me feel safe and cared for. He makes sure I’m headed to see Pastor Payne at the church and I tell him yes after I get breakfast at the Swamp Cafe and see the Ah-Tah-Thi-Ki Museum.
Not every hike has this kind of cultural immersion. I get a real North Island of New Zealand vibe walking along the road, where everyone waves and one truck even toots a salute.
It adds a mile to my day, but I’m not exactly sure when I’ll have another big meal before Clewiston in three days, so I walk over to Billie’s Swamp Safari Cafe.
The place is cool, filled with authentic chickees, the Seminole huts made of cypress timber and thatched saw palmetto. Several enclosures hold alligators and parrots and other creatures.
And a guy welcomes me right away by inviting me to take a shower.
I must really smell awful.
I pass for now knowing I’ll clean up at the church and just set about eating and drinking. Like my rest at I-75, I stay a few hours. And why not?
That does leave a hot few miles on pavement towards town. At this point, I’m facing east and getting a bit more sun in my eyes. It’s exhausting. But I don’t hitch and make it just fine to the museum.
What a fantastic place! The orientation short film is well worth it to understand who the Seminole are and why they are here – and also how the museum came to be.
A fiercely independent bunch, they moved down here from Georgia and Alabama in the 1700s, pushed out by colonists. In the early years of our nation, they got pushed deeper into the everglades, evading soldiers who got lost in the swamps.
They eked out a living but eventually found tourists would pay for their crafts as well as to see alligator wrestling. Today, it’s casinos that support their sovereign way of life.
I was most fascinated with the patchwork clothing, beading and jewelry. Everyone was decked out – and not just for special occasions, but every day.
Nice style.
I’m pretty tired, so maybe I shouldn’t have walked one more mile on the boardwalk with interpretive signs describing what I had seen in the swamps, but who knows when I’ll return?
Across the street is the church which has been hosting hikers for some time, really the only place to camp on the res. They’ve built our own chickee plus a bath house and – much to my delight – a laundry room!
I’m over the moon! I’m not sure how good it would feel to be clean but put on filthy clothes. A miracle!
But the miracles don’t stop there. Yesterday was the first Sunday of the month when the church puts on a community dinner. There are heaps of leftovers to share. My hiker hunger is satisfied!
As the temperatures are getting into the mid-80s, I take any warm clothes out of my pack to send home, delighted the post office is still open. She even mentions if I forgot something in my pack, just run it right back over.
I didn’t even know the res had a post office and now I’m a good deal lighter. Still, it will be a slog on exposed levees for the coming days.
I’ll drink a lot and take breaks in any shade I find. But right now, I’m well cared for and ready for a good night’s sleep.
