Hiking the Florida Trail

Hiking the Florida Trail has forever changed my perspective of the state of Florida. A born and bred northeasterner, I have always perceived Florida as a place for the weak and the elderly. As a girl who loves mountains, it was nothing more than flat and hot. I know, it's harsh and really terribly untrue, but my only knowledge of Florida before this was informed by my trip to Disney World when I was 8 years old and all those snowbirds I had encountered over the years who found the snow too much to bear. Allow me to personally extend a sincere apology to all those snowbirds, some of them dear friends and family, who I misjudged. Your state of Florida proved to be unimaginably and sometimes even indescribably beautiful. The people we met along the way were also so very friendly and honestly seemed a whole lot cheerier than we scowling people from the land of snow.

Scott and me at Florida Trail marker in Kissimmee Preserve State Park

So given this preconceived notion what made me want to hike the Florida Trail you ask? Well, firstly, I had learned from a fellow hiker and trail angel, Johnny Massey, when I was hiking the Mountains to Sea Trail, that this trail was over 1,000 miles long. Any trail of this magnitude catches my interest. Secondly, his tales coupled with those of my dear friend, Rachel Horn, whose love of Apalachicola filled my head with  images of completely alien plant life, plants on which I had never yet laid eyes, kindled my curiosity. Thirdly, Scott and I seem to be creeping ever closer to the ranks of the "weak" or perhaps in reality the "wise."  Quite frankly, these born and bred northeasterners have lost all interest in the snow. You tough souls can have it. So when Scott suggested we visit his mother in Sarasota, Florida with our few weeks of vacation, we got to thinking...we would be awfully close to that Florida Trail. Plus maybe it was time we looked into a trail we could hike in the winter instead of playing the painfully long waiting game until Spring to get our legs moving again. That was it...we were psyched. Florida or bust, baby!

The Cracker Trail Country Store in Okeechobee, Florida

We planned a 100 mile route from Okeechobee to Kissimmee through Central Florida that we figured would take us about one week to hike. After some help from folks on the Florida Trail Hikers facebook page, we decided we would ask permission from the owners of the Cracker Trail Country Store located just one mile from the trail if we could park my car there. The owners were easy-going and happy to oblige even when we told them our plan to hike all the way to Kissimmee, hop an Amtrak train and cab it back to the car eight days later. They didn't blink an eye and seemed used to accommodating we crazy hikers, "Better you than me!" said the woman working the register.

Roadside palm in Okeechobee bearing orange Florida Trail blaze

Our hike began with orange blazes painted on the smooth trunks of Palm trees lining an asphalt road that stretched on for miles. We hiked with heavy packs laden with eight days worth of food and over 12 liters of water between the two of us in hot sun for 9.5 miles, stopping roughly every two miles to collapse in the meager shade of a palm. Periodic 18-wheelers piled high with purple cabbage and sod rumbled by flinging cabbage leaves and grass at our feet. This first day was far harder than we had anticipated given our winter weary bodies that felt like they had just crawled out from a dark cave of hibernation seeing the sun for the first time in months. Yet despite the struggle we marveled at the expansive acreage of cow pastures filled with curious cattle that would lift their heads in unison, chewing their cud with an unflinching gaze as we walked by. With little else to look at, we found were doing just the same back at them.

 Just a couple of the many cows along roadwalk

Scott road hiking

Yet the thrill of beginning a long hike still filled our hearts and we reveled in passing these orange blazes on Palms and the first of both new and lesser seen plants along the roadside.

Woolly Paw Paw (Asimina incana)

Starrush Whitetop (Rhynchospora colorata)

The second day when we awoke in our tent at Oak Creek campsite to birdsong so boisterous and unfamiliar we reminisced on our time in Guatemala, we felt ready for a new day and when we stepped finally onto real true trail just a couple of miles later, we nearly skipped on down the path. Walking the woods of Florida was quite a different experience from walking the road. Above us was a canopy of interlacing grape vines and Spanish Moss tufts that hung so low from the outstretched branches of the Live Oak that they sometimes grazed our heads.

Scott on trail

We came to our first water source here, a pond filled with algae blooms - not ideal but water nonetheless - and the most incredible plant community that called it home. Carnivorous Sundews nearly blanketed the sandy ground, while here and there sparkled pink Meadow Beauties, succulent Saint John's Worts seemed luminescent, and waxy white flowers arose on tall stalks at the water's edge. After sticking our trekking poles in the water first, hoping the resident alligators would snap at those and not our arms, we dunked our bottles for water and rested by the shore eagerly flipping through a Florida Plant guide.

Sundew (Drosera)

Meadow Beauty (Rhexia)

Four-leaved Saint John's Wort (Hypericum tetrapetalum)

Bulltongue Arrowhead (Sagittaria lancifolia)

At some point in the day while hiking through the Florida jungle, a sweet gust of wind swept through the thick palms and Oaks, carrying the strong scent of Orange blossoms. We halted in our tracks when the wind blew and the scent remained. We looked around us intoxicated by the aroma and then saw them...bunches of ripe oranges hanging from the tree tops. Wild Oranges! They were not easy to pluck from the high branches but we were determined and sat down atop our packs to devour the fruits that left our fingers literally dripping with juice. We quickly learned that oranges gone wild revert to their sour state when they are no long tended to, but they were delicious none the less. We stashed away one in our pack before carrying on.

Scott beneath our found Wild Orange trees

We stopped early for the day after eating lunch at the pristine Starvation Slough campsite. We had failed to put on sunscreen until later in the day and were both feeling burnt and tired in the 80 degree temps. We had little desire to hike on after we had reclined on the picnic table and benches surrounding a fire-ring. We decided an early day with a leisurely dinner around a campfire later that evening sounded better. Through the palms golden prairie land stretched out to either side of us as the sun seventually set low behind our patch of palm forest.

re-enactment of battling the the wild jaguarundi

We were had just began eating dinner when we heard it...a rustle in the palms...then a charging a sudden halt. By the light of the campfire we saw the palms shake. It was probably just a deer...until the palms continued to rustle and whatever it was rushed again and halted. Okay...maybe a bear. We got to clanging our hiking sticks and yelling to scare it off. It proceeded around the edge of the palms now closer to our campfire. We clicked on our headlamps and shone them into the darkness only to see nothing but palm fronds. This curious animal continued to make a semi-circle around our camp as we jumped atop the picnic table and banged pots and shoes and hollared as loud as we could. This went on for over an hour as we shoveled noodles into our mouths as quickly as we could and hastily hung a bear hang. It then ran a circle around our camp. This was no bear...could it possibly be...a panther? "Get in the tent." Scott ordered. We scurried inside our nylon shelter and we listened as whatever it was seemed to run off into the brush. For two hours we heard nothing and so began to finally drift off to sleep when it returned running a full circle around our tent. Somehow that night...we did eventually fall asleep and awoke in the morning to find no evidence of any creature ever entering camp. We have decided it was a a rogue jaguarundi looking to eat us or play, whichever we were somewhat glad we never actually saw it.

Duck Slough - yes we did retrieve water from here!

Alligator along a slough

On our third day, our trail legs suddenly kicked into gear as we trekked 15 into and through the Kissimmee Prairie Preserve. Our morning began with alligators basking in the sun along a slough that ran parallel to a thin strip of trail and late in the afternoon we lunched along the boardwalk atop the magical Duck Slough, where the water was blanketed with duck weed and the all was shrouded in green. We ended the day with an seemingly interminable five mile walk down a sandy road termed the Military Trail with Saw Palmetto prairie stretching out for miles to either side of us, tiny ponds teeming with bird and plant life our only mileage markers.

Five mile Military Road

A prairie slough

In the evening we were rewarded for our efforts with a pristine campsite at the Prairie Loop Junction complete with a water pump providing our first water source in which we didn't have to first break the surface of green. The Kissimmee Prairie Preserve is nationally renowned for its darkness given the lack of light and air pollution and so that night we gazed up at the sea of stars, more stars than I had seen since my visit to Utah almost a decade ago, and teetering in our tininess amidst the immensity of existence.

Covered platform with picnic table at Prairie Junction Loop campsite

Dirty feet after three days of hiking

On our fourth day we hiked another 10 miles through endless Saw Palmetto Prairie, both of us wondering how we had never learned of the Florida prairie lands. Their vastness was breath-taking while at the same time psychologically challenging given that the landscape seemed never to change although we continued to hike.

Saw Palmetto (Serona repens) Prairie

So psychologically challenging apparently that we resorted to talking to that wild orange I was still carrying in my pack. We named him Reggie - think Castaway's Wilson the volleyball - and he became our traveling companion for the rest of the trip. He is quite the jokester!

Reginald aka Reggie the Wild Orange

The temperatures had significantly dropped, remaining in the mid-sixties all day with a wind that blew so strong across the open prairie that I had to wrap a bandana around my head to shield my ears from the ceaseless whooshing. I believe we found this wind more tiresome than the actual hiking. After hiking atop clods of grass and sand along a firebreak we finally reached the private road that lead over the S-65A Lock.

Crossing S-65A lock over the Kissimmee River

Looking out over Kissimmee River

We crossed the Kissimmee River on a marvel of human engineering - essentially a dam and lock system. The views were long here and we noted the multitude of birds that happily called this river home, each one perched atop its own bouy that floated on the surface of the water. Near the entrance to the lock sat a simple house all on its lonesome, and we wondered what it must be like to awake every day to river and its wildlife and nothing else.

Kissimmee River - a haven for the birds

Once on the other side of the lock, we walked through tall grass on a levee high above the Kissimmee. In the water below we could see evidence of alligator holes in the sand and we hiked a lil faster. It wasn't long before we encountered the free roaming cattle that also live their existence by the lock. Most all trotted away from us at first sight, all except for one big bull that mirrored every step we took towards him. He kept us busy for about 20 minutes as we tried to find our way around him, considering it was just us and him and a concrete weir with no where to go but through the marsh on either side. Finally in the setting sun, we scurried by him while he busy chewing on some grass and hustled our way to the Town of Kicco campsite.

Trail angels at Town of Kicco campground

This particular group of campsites abuts the shores of the Kissimmee and is actually the remains of a thriving cattle town that existed roughly a century ago. Remnants of the sidewalks and some metal pipes still remain, but sadly the last structures were destroyed some years ago. Here in this little cattle town we met three kind souls and a dog. We had no sooner got our tent set up for the night that a man from a nearby campsite walked across the way and offered us a giant ziplock of lo mein. We were running lower on fuel than expected and so his offer couldn't have come at a better time! To top it off in the morning, another one of these generous campers invited us back over to camp for eggs, potatoes, toast, and coffee. Way better than the granola bars we already had in our hands! We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and learned that every year this group of men meet for a week long camp at Kicco. This group has a number of members and formed through a meetup forum nearly a decade earlier. Each one of them was from a different walk of life with his own perspective, yet all had a love for the outdoors. We didn't realize until we left to hike our miles for the day, that none of us had ever bothered exchanging names even if we had exchanged stories. I guess names just weren't all that important.

Kissimmee River alongside cattle grazing land

Fueled by the best food we had yet had on our hike, we cruised along effortlessly. We walked a sand road through free roaming cattle, paralleling the Kissimmee River that shone clear blue, reflecting the cloudless sky above us. After a few miles, we spent the rest of the day criss-crossing a white sand road and walking through patches of shaded forest filled with Live Oaks, Palms and Saw Palmetto plants. The trail beneath us remained sand and it was easy at times to forget that we were in Florida and not out west in desert. Then we reached the dude ranch...

Teepees at the River Ranch Resort

Fellow hikers....meet the River Ranch Resort. This is the lap of luxury for all you country folks out there, complete with glamping teepees each with its own king sized bed and air conditioner. This place not only has a saloon, restaurant, cowboy clothing store (Scott did manage to pick up a hat here), general store, rodeo, adventure park, and golf course, but its own post office. Keep this in mind for your mail-drops...because to buy a resupply here will break your wallet...think $8.99 for a block of Kraft cheddar. Nonetheless we did enjoy a delicious reasonably priced pizza and the employees we encountered were friendly and accommodating, filling our water bottles for us and such. After a lengthy rest we hiked into the sunset, passing the resident buffalo along the way.

Buffalo at the River Ranch Resort

Scott donning his new hat near the River Ranch Resort

We climbed a stile into KICCO north and that night camped beneath the boughs of a Live Oak shrouded in Spanish Moss and adorned in air plants. From the evidence of the cow patties throughout the our meadow, we wondered if we might have moo'ing visitors in the night. We rested easy though and in the morning walked a grassy levee in the early morning sun, following a lone cow through the tall grass. The walking was pleasant until Scott had to literally run a black snake gauntlet the last tenth of a mile to SR 60. After catching our breath, literally, we then endured a 5 mile roadwalk along the busiest road I have ever hiked. 18-wheelers blew past our shoulders and cars zipped along our narrow strip of sloped grass, as we walked hemmed in by a fence shielding a gas pipeline its entire length. We counted the miles down and gritted our teeth, however along the way we still managed to admire a few of the native plants!

Pennywort (Hydrocotyle umbellata) - edible in herb proportions

Frog Fruit (Phyla nodiflora) - useful as a medicinal tea for easing an upset stomach.

We were relieved when we turned left onto a sandy gravel road that ran hot and long, leading us into a Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area. Within a couple miles we reached a surprisingly busy hunt check station that provided some much desired shade. It was the first morning of the youth turkey hunt and the hunters were out in full. However all that we encountered were friendly and talkative and even shared their ice cold water with us from the back of their pickup trucks while we lunched with the hunt check host - a fellow New Yorker who told us he now spent his days in the warmth of the Florida sun.

Walk through prairie in Three Lakes Wildlife Management Area

Burned Saw Palmetto (Serona repens) in flower - Saw Palmetto is true to its name with saw-like teeth along its lower stalk. 

From here we walked another three miles through vast prairie, much of it recently burned for management. Our last mile however wove us through pristine forest that felt more like a jungle with old growth Palms towering overhead, Live Oaks craning their branches for the sun like a spiderweb above, and dried Palm fronds and Oak leaves crunching beneath our feet. We were left speechless by the beauty of this ancient forest.

Scott in old growth forest

When we reached the Godwin Hammock campsite, we were rewarded with a recently built tent platform, picnic table and fire ring, along with another pitcher pump that gushed clear, clean water. This would be our last night in the wilderness and even after just a week, that bittersweet feeling of finishing our hike was already filling our hearts. Although our skin was puffy and red from sun and wind and our legs dusted in dirt, we hated to leave.

Godwin Hammock campsite

In the morning, we had a leisurely breakfast and hit the trail, walking through some of the tallest grass yet. Along the way we stepped over more than one rattlesnake skin and so kept our eyes glued to the ground, being certain to place our hiking sticks before our feet. When we reached woods and took a break in the shade of an Live Oak, we decided we would walk the sandy gravel roads for a bit with the prospect of catching a ride to cut off some miles. We were behind by half a day's miles given our slower pace earlier in the week and so we were looking at a twenty mile day. With the grass through the prairie so tall and the sun shining scorching hot, we thought a little trail magic might be in order.

Yellow Milkwort (Polygala rugelii)

We reached a white hot roadwalk and stopped within a couple miles for a lunch break.  We had no sooner set down our packs when a pickup truck came rumbling down the road. Scott gave a wave and the pickup truck slowed to a halt.

"Any chance, you're going to Canoe Creek Road?" Scott asked.

"Sure are." The man said from behind the wheel, two small children beside him in the front seat.

"Mind if we hitch a ride in the back?" Scott asked pointing to the bed of the truck.

"Sure. But we're looking for shark's teeth, so we might be awhile."

We hopped in. Turns out this is a common thing that locals do - looking for shark's teeth and fossils in the sandy roads. The man informed us that all of the now dry land that we hiked atop had at one time been underwater and so artifacts from that time remained. We ended up joining the treasure hunt and one of the little ones ended up uncovering the fossil of a snail body, once wet and fat now turned to stone. Afterwards that nice family ended up giving us a ride 20 miles down Canoe Creek Rd as we clenched for dear life to the low tailgate, our trailhead disappearing in the distance at 60 miles per hour.

And so after our drop-off, we walked another couple of miles to a nearby Shell Station, lunched on bean burritos and Dr Pepper on the cool pavement outside and then cabbed it another 10 miles into the town of Kissimmee. We managed to land a room at the luxurious Satisfaction Resort Hotel for just $65 and after very long showers hit the nearby Mexican restaurant, El Tapatio, for dinner. There we stuffed our faces full of fresh veggies and guacamole, and chatted for an hour with the family beside us. Even if this part of the city seemed rather seedy by appearance, the interactions we had were stellar. In the morning, our of hopping an Amtrak train didn't quite pan out when we were alerted that it was four hours delayed, making our five hour train ride's arrival in Okeechobee even later in the day. So on a whim, we called Uber. Within minutes our driver arrived, and drove us for the same reasonable price of $95, back to Okeechobee in just an hour and a half's time.  Our driver, originally from Columbia, told us of his mountains and we told him of our walk across the prairies of his present home. As we neared Okeechobee, he remarked..."Seems there are more cows here than people." Sure 'nuff.

Live Oak (Quercus virginiana) adorned in Spanish Moss (Tillandsia usneoides)

And so our adventure on the Florida Trail was an adventure indeed. We trekked through jungle and prairie, across slough and sand, meeting new plant faces, encountering wild jaguarundis and alligators, relentless sun and blowing winds, and generous souls. Florida, you unveiled a world to us unimaginable and with it a new trail to further discover...our wheels are already turning and our feet itching to see what lies at the edge of the next prairie.