I’m tucked in a few minutes before mosquito feeding, just after a gorgeous sunset over the prairies.
This is an oak hammock, where live oaks, their massive curving limbs festooned with spanish moss, nestle in within palm and palmetto.
I’m sure this must normally be damp if not under water since signs indicate airboat traffic.
But it is bone dry now, sandy and soft. So much so, I need to walk a fair distance to the river herself to collect drinking water. Luckily, an alligator-free side channel is easily accessed for root beer colored tannic water that tastes delicious after filtering.
What a glorious place this is! When I looked up Florida Trail highlights, Big Cypress and the Kissimmee came up. Only 100 miles of exposed road (and paved trail) in between.
I worked damn hard for this!
My first entry was after 16 miles walking on levee and paved road, and it took my breath away. The flat, openness of the prairie looks like the Serengeti. While the gnarled oaks bring me back to the goblin forests of New Zealand.
My body is so beat up from the relentless sameness of the canals and Lake O, I never thought I could get this far today.
But I’m glad I pushed on when I had the time because it’s magical in here. It takes hiking to get into this site, so my guess was correct that no one is here on a Tuesday night.
Still, I set my tent further down the trail just in case someone arrives. I’m well hidden, though have lovely shade and a view of the sunset while I eat and do my camp chores.
I had the sunrise this morning too since lovely Leo, the trail angel taxi driver picked me up at 6:15. I eat breakfast on the levee until it feels light enough to begin.
Two Carolina wrens sing to each other while a white eyed vireo gives a solo. It’s so funny to see cows grazing next to palm trees. I had no idea Florida was cattle country.
Turns out Juan Ponce de Leon brought a herd of Spanish cattle here in 1521. He let them roam and they multiplied. In the 1700s, the Seminole began to round them up and became the first cowboys in the region.
I reach a lock and find some shade for a snack while the lock tender raises the water for two boats to enter the river. She very nicely allows me to throw away my breakfast wrappers.
Ahead, a trail angel leaves gallons of fresh water for us hikers. I am so grateful because it’s hot and I need to drink all day and would prefer not to collect water from the muddy channels.
It’s a long road walk now on a not so busy road. Everyone pulls to the other lane and waves. A bald eagle alights on a moss-covered pine tree which whispers in the cooling breeze.
A few miles on, a resident ties a sign to their mailbox indicating a rest stop. Two chairs are set by a cooler filled with cold water. Life is good!
There is a breeze as mentioned and big puffy clouds again. I saw very few on the lake, but welcome these shadow-causing clouds as I plod forward on hot pavement.
I reach a lovely park where I see my first spreading oak trees. Not only are they gorgeous to look at, but they make shade.
But I leave them for one more short bit of road, where a third trail angel leaves a metal box filled with RC cola, Powerade, snacks and two cans of beef stew.
I don’t need it now, but I’m impressed he’s jiggered a charging station too using power from a nearby solar cell.
My gratitude is overflowing! I find shade ahead and drink up before (finally) meeting an actual footpath. The trail winds around through this glorious oak hammock, some limbs so low in the path, the trail crew has painted an orange blaze to keep us from smashing our heads.
Epiphytes park inside elbows and moss covers nearly every exposed bit. Palmettos fan out below and I walk through this mystical place on soft grass.
I skip my intended camp-spot since it’s still early and walk another four miles into a cow pasture, up a road, then back into this prairie/oak hammock environment.
7:00 and it’s pitch dark. A whip-poor-will sings briefly. Lovely as it is, brief is best. And a whistling duck hoots before flying low over my tent in a whoosh of wings.
The crickets are revved up and I wonder what other creatures I’ll hear tonight as I rest my tired body for tomorrow, considered a particularly lovely part of this section.
