Hiking The Fab Four Trails Of The Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park: #2 The East Main

For my hike in late 2022 on the West Main Tram Trail, see: https://hooknfly.com/2022/11/30/hiking-the-fab-four-trails-of-the-fakahatachee-strand-preserve-state-park-1-the-west-main/

Mid-January 2023

Welcome to trekking through what the Miami Herald newspaper has called Florida’s best kept outdoor secret.  Located about halfway between Miami and Naples near Everglades City, even on holiday weekends the preserve is rarely crowded, especially its trails. From its rare orchids to its animals and unique landscape, the preserve is a special place. 

This series describing hikes in the preserve covers four of the main trails—the West Main, East Main, East Prairie, and South Tram that can be seen on the park map in the Overview section below.

The Fakahatchee Strand is a gentle wilderness, but it must be explored with care and caution. It is a place for ambling and observing, not rock’n rolling, rushing to set speed records. Hidden treasures and beauty abound. I hope you’ll enjoy these hikes, taking care to leave nothing behind but memories. And please consider joining me as a member of the Friends of the Fakahatchee, a wonderful non-profit organization that plays an essential role in protecting and interpreting the preserve. (The organization’s website is https://orchidswamp.org).

East Main Trail Overview

Location:  The parking area for the East Main trail is located about six miles northwest of the park entrance and headquarters on Janes Scenic Drive.

Difficulty/Length:  The trail, which follows a well-maintained old two-track logging road, is probably the easiest hiking of the Fab Four trails.  It is mostly flat with very little elevation gain from start to finish.

The East Main is approximately two miles long from the parking area/entry gate to the private cabin and small lake to the north.  It takes about 2.5 hours to hike to the cabin and back,  but can easily take longer for the observant hiker.  For the ambitious trekker, the trail extends another 10 miles almost all the way to Interstate 75 and the Jones Grade Road and lakes to the north.

History/Highlights:  This trail follows an old tram road that was cleared when the cypress in the area was logged in the 1940s-1960s.  Lush marsh vegetation featuring giant sword ferns, royal palms, bald cypress, and beautiful wildflowers is one of the main attraction.  The park is the only place in the world where the bald cypress trees and towering royal palms share the forest canopy, and the East Main Trail is a great place to admire them.  You will almost certainly see alligators and possibly deer, bear, and numerous species of birds such as egrets and herons.  Lucky hikers may see the endangered Everglades Mink and Florida Panther.  Generally, the animals like the alligators are not aggressive, but should be respected and kept at a distance.  This is a good trail for families with children and also one of the best in the park for bicyclists as it is wider than others and well-maintained.

Essential gear:  Any time of year, but particularly from June through January, the trail can be muddy in spots and the vegetation covering the two-track trail damp to dripping wet. These conditions call for long pants and long-sleeved shirts made of a fabric like nylon that will dry quickly as well as waterproof hiking boots.  I like my shirt or pants to have big pockets so I can grab my cell phone camera quickly.  During the winter dry months shorts may be okay, but the vegetation on the trail north of the cabin can be higher as it sees few hikers and bikers.  Don’t forget the bug repellant—the mosquitos and no-see-ums can be fierce, although less bothersome during the dry winter season, December through April.  I always carry a hiking staff as well as plenty of water and wear a hat.

Tips:  A good place to stop and soak in the scenery and environment is one of the culverts that allows the Strand’s water to flow under the trail and continue its way to the Ten Thousand Islands in the Gulf. Let your eyes adjust to the dappled lighting of the swamp.  Slowly scan the forest and vegetation and you’ll be rewarded with views of flora and fauna you will miss if you hurry by.  

The boardwalk to the small lake next to the private cabin offers great views of alligators and abundant bird life.

Some caveats.  Before hitting the trail, make sure you tell someone where you are going and when you expect to be back in cell range.  Cell phone coverage in the park is spotty.  I also carry a Garmin inReach emergency satellite phone as a backup.  Keep an eye peeled for alligators that frequent the deeper water around the culverts and the small lake and don’t be tempted to go wading through the shallow swamp or sloughs that parallel and cross the trail without an experienced guide (Swamp tours are offered by Friends of the Fakahatchee).  You may soon find yourself waist deep in water and muck or coming face-to-face with a big alligator!  There is a good rest spot with a picnic table about into the hike at the private cabin about two miles into the hike.  This is a good spot for a turnaround if you are with younger children.  The rest of the trail to the north is less traveled more overgrown, and with weaker cell phone service in parts.

A Brief History And Overview Of The Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park

At over 70,000 acres, the park is the state’s largest although it hosts only about 100,000 visitors a year, far less than others like much smaller Bahia Honda State Park in the Florida Keys which sees over 700,000 annually. It is 20 miles long north to south and about 10 miles at its widest east to west.  However, the actual Fakahatchee Strand, the park’s namesake marshy central core where freshwater flows towards the Gulf of Mexico, is about 20 miles long by five miles wide. 

The preserve’s relative obscurity is due in large part to the fact that the park does comparatively little outreach to attract visitors, its primary mission being to protect the rare environment and its fauna and flora.  Nowhere will you find a visitors center even though this is the largest state park, although one is in the works   The park is world famous for orchids and rare vegetation like bromeliads and tropical epiphytes—plants that grow on other plants for support, but are not parasitic, getting water and food from the air. 

The Park Is Known For Its Beautiful Air Plants

The park also is home to endangered species like the Florida Panther and Everglades Mink as well as a host of other critters ranging from scads of wading birds, ospreys, and hawks to diamondback terrapins, bobcats, river otter, bear, manatees, alligators, and crocodiles.  A skeleton staff of five work hard to protect the park. 

They are assisted by a remarkable group of volunteers called Friends of the Fakahatchee.  The organization is currently collaborating with the park to fund and build an interpretive pavilion on the Tamiami Trail at the Big Cypress Bend and open a visitors center near the park headquarters.  In addition to an interpretive display, the pavilion will feature a rain shelter, restrooms, and connections to a rebuilt boardwalk out into the preserve. 

Work On New Facilities At The Big Cypress Bend Boardwalk Nears Completion

The history of the park is fascinating, both troubling and promising. It was one of the last pieces that was put together to protect the Everglades, Marjorie Stoneman Douglas’ River of Grass. Everglades National Park was created in 1947, but not until 1974 was land purchased for the Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park. The property was acquired in response to development pressures and sprawl in Collier County, which rarely turned down any project. Grandiose development plans associated with Golden Gate Estates in Naples and Port of the Islands envisioned residential projects that would house thousands of people with homes on canals carved into the west side of the Everglades. As the early phases of these developments proceeded, the devastating impacts on the Everglades became all too clear. The residential canals sucked water out of the Everglades into the Prairie and Faka Union Canals, lowering groundwater levels up to eight feet in some areas, stealing life-giving water from native plants. Looking at an aerial view of the area today on Google Maps, the leftover scars are plainly visible. The park purchase in 1974 help stem the assault on Everglades from the west, but much work remains to be done. Today the west end of the state park and those leftover scars are part of a multibillion-dollar, multi-agency effort with the U.S Army Corps of Engineers and the South Florida Water Management District to plug the Prairie Canal and restore natural water flows through the western Everglades to the Ten Thousand Islands National Wildlife Area and Gulf.

Canals For Residential Development On The Preserve’s West Side That Disrupted The Natural Water Flow Are Being Filled In

Despite the importance of the park in protecting the Everglades, it existed in relative obscurity until a best-selling publication, The Orchid Thief, was published in 1998.  The book has been called a tale of beauty and obsession, a true story of a fanatic orchid poacher in the preserve named Larouche and his Seminole assistants.  The book was later turned into a highly rated popular movie, Adaptation, starring Nicholas Cage and Meryl Streep.  It was the plethora of orchids, over 40 and many rare, and the amazing variety of bromeliads and air plants that led the Fakahatchee Stand to be dubbed the Amazon of North America.  Even today the park staff must keep a sharp eye out for orchid poachers, assisted by remote video cameras hidden in key locations.

Fortunately, the park has recovered nicely from being heavily logged from 1944 into the 1950s for pine and cypress.  Cypress wood is highly water resistant and was in demand during World War II for making aircraft carrier decks and PT boats among other vessels.  Today it is used for more peaceful products like decking and coffins.  The tiny communities of Copeland and Jerome within the park are reminders of those days, having served as home to loggers in that era.

As the timber harvesting slowed in the 1950s, several freshwater lakes were created in the 1950s and 60s when limestone rocks and gravel were gouged out for Alligator Alley and other highways.   The canals in the park to the south along the Tamiami Trail were carved out much earlier in the 1920s with big steam-powered dredges to provide fill upon which to build the highway linking the east and west coasts of Florida, a daunting task. Back then the highway was called the Eighth Wonder of the World.  The fact that the Fakahatchee Strand recuperated into a reasonably functioning ecosystem after all this is poking and prodding is a testament to nature’s resilience.  Now the question many ask is if the park can survive global warming and sea-level rise as well as the invasion of non-native plants and wildlife like Brazilian pepper and Burmese pythons.

The Hike

I get a late start this morning, waiting for the sun to warm things up from the frigid temperatures in the 40s the last couple of nights.  I deposit my entry fee at the park headquarters and am on Jane’s Scenic Drive headed to the East Main Trail by about 10:30 a.m. under a cloudless sky.  As I drive the first couple of miles, what I call the prairie section, I’m surprised to see only a few egrets here and there, probably the result of the cold weather.  My spirits sag a bit, and I hope this isn’t a harbinger of things to come for the hike.

Soon the road curves, and I pass the “mink crossing” sign that always makes me chuckle, but then for the second trip to the park in a row, one of the rare little critters goes scampering across the gravel in front of me.

I slam my brakes on and hop out of my SUV, camera at the ready.  But he’s disappeared into the thick roadside vegetation.  I wait quietly for a few minutes, but the mink is too tricky and refuses to reveal his whereabouts.  What a great way to start the day, the chill already ebbing and spirits revived.

I drive slowly down the road, stopping at each culvert to see what I can see.  There’s definitely less water flowing down the slough and under the road than a couple of months ago as the dry season commences, and I don’t see any fish in the pools.

Water Levels Begin To Drop In December As The Dry Season Takes Hold

Soon I pass by the turnout for the West Main Trail and continue north towards my destination.  Suddenly another Everglades Mink scampers across the road in front of me and dives into the thicket.  I bolt from my vehicle, but again can’t get a photo of the little rascal.  I peer into the undergrowth but it’s no use.

I turn dejectedly, but then something catches my eye, a tiny white delicate flower only a few feet off the road. I get down on my knees and snap a photo, then run it through my plant ID app called PictureThis. To my surprise the little beauty is a Soldier’s Orchid, a native of Asia that has made its way to the park where it is thriving. My first orchid sighting of the year, and I’m thrilled!

Soldier’s Orchid

A few minutes later around 11 a.m., I am at the parking area and gate for the East Main Trail.  There are a couple of cars already there, certainly not very crowded for a federal holiday, MLK’s birthday.  Before setting out, I take a look at the informational kiosk at the trailhead.  I chuckle when I see the photo of the so-called Fakahatchee Hilton, the private cabin on a pond along the trail that is my destination today.  I throw on my little day pack and am off.

Before long I come to a stand of majestic royal palms that tower over the landscape.

Royal Palms

Next I catch sight of some unique air plants that the park is known for.  They are epiphytes that anchor themselves to other plants or downed logs for support but absorb moisture and nutrients from the air through their leaves, not their roots.  One of my favorites is the cardinal air plant that will sport a showy red and purple bloom soon.  

As I trek on, I see some movement on the trail ahead and a lot of squawking by crows.  Something is going on.  As I get closer, I spy a brigade of vultures squabbling over something, no doubt a delectable lunch.  Sure enough, as I get closer I see they are picking at what turns out to be an expired possum.  When I return in a couple of hours, the poor creature’s bones will literally have been picked clean. 

Now the buzzard brigade is circling overhead and several raptors—an osprey and maybe a red-shouldered hawk that I can hear but not see–are chastising me severely.

Aerial Show

I keep my eye peeled for other birds that I can see slipping away into the woods—herons, egrets, and small songbirds and warblers.  Usually they flee at the first glimpse of humans or sound of hiking boots, but if I’m patient they may reveal themselves hiding in the thicket or even come back in closer.  That’s what a shy white Ibis does, playing hide and seek with me as he wades through the shallows feeding close to the trail.  These wading birds, also known as Chokoloskee chickens, were a mainstay in the diet of early settlers in the Glades.  Then I see movement among some dead branches.  A small bird poses for me as I shoot photos wildly.  A few even turn out so I can identify him—a lovely little Yellow-Rumped Warbler.

The aerial show continues a short way up the trail as several butterflies flit around my head, just daring  me to catch them.  I resist the urge, but follow them, hoping to get a photo of these elusive beauties.  They flit back and forth, teasing me, and then one finally relents and lands on a nearby flower.  I creep up cautiously and snap away wildly with my phone camera, managing to get a couple of decent shots before she slips away into the woods. It’s a zebra butterfly that protects itself using the pollen it feasts on to produce chemicals that poison predators.

Needless to say I’m happy I didn’t succumb to the temptation to catch one!  Sadly, the zebras have reportedly been decimated in much of its range by mosquito spray. 

There aren’t many flowers blooming this time of year. The pretty white one the zebra butterfly was feeding on is a hairy beggartick, so named after its penchant of attaching its seeds to animal and people who brush by. It’s also called devils needles! But there are plenty of interesting plants to examine like the stands of giant sword ferns that line the trail and Bird’s Nest Ferns that are an unusual fern in that they are epiphytes, anchoring themselves to downed trees and other plants but getting their nourishment and moisture from the air instead of their roots.

I saunter up the trail further, stepping aside to let several friendly bikers pedal by, then see two ladies on the trail ahead who seem to be frozen in place, looking at something.  As I get closer, they warn me off.  They point to a gray lump in the middle of the path, a sunbathing gator who isn’t about to move. 

Gator Posing For Coppertone Ad

They ladies look and sound forlorn, telling me they’ve been stuck there for 10 minutes and don’t know what to do.  Being a chivalrous gentleman, I spring into action.  I find a long, dead palm frond next to the trail, then creep close enough to the cheeky reptile to launch the branch through the air which lands near its tail.  The gator swirls around, hissing, but scurries for cover in the nearby slough as I run in the opposite direction.  He gives me the evil eye I as he slides down the shallow slough water past me.

Gator Glare!

The ladies clap their applause while I execute a deep bow.  We chat for a bit, they telling me they thought they might be stuck there for hours.  Fortunately, in all my time hiking and kayaking in the Everglades, I rarely find that the alligators are aggressive unless they are used to being fed by humans.  Most will run for cover when prodded or disturbed as this one did. 

Having done my good turn for the day, now I’m getting close to the Fakahatchee Hilton, and I am not disappointed.  What a picturesque setting!

The owners of the weathered old hunting cabin allow visitors to rest on their front porch and walk out to the lake on their boardwalk.  Please respect their property so their hospitality continues.

Before taking a break, I decide to go out on the dock to see what’s happening.  The first view is a showstopper. 

A half dozen gators are lounging around the pond, with more seeming to emerge from the surrounding swamp every minute.  And several are VERY big, at least 10 feet.  Needless to say it would be folly to get off the dock and walk the shoreline!! 

Gators On Parade!

After the requisite photos, I retreat to the cabin porch where I have a snack and drink, shooting the bull with a couple of other septuagenarian hikers from the nearby big city of Naples who just got off the trail.  Like everyone I meet today, they are affable and cordial.  We trade lies, er stories, about our fishing exploits and experiences on the park’s trails. 

We decide to continue on the trail past to cabin where fewer people seem to venture.  One of my new friends mentions that there should be some orchids blooming just off the trail ahead along a boardwalk that skirts the pond and swamp.  But when we head that way, we are met by a platoon of gators who are firmly ensconced and don’t show the slightest inclination to move.  Seeing that a couple are around 10-feet long, we demure and scamper back to the trail. 

Gator Guards

North of the cabin the East Main Trail extends another 10 miles or so.  We make it a half mile further.  The path is narrower and clearly less traveled, but well-maintained.  However, when the sun breaks through the canopy it melts our resolve.  It’s hot, the temperature pushing 80 degrees.  We take that as a sign to head back.

Geezer Buddies On Trail North

On the way we walk casually at a slow pace, exploring this and that, and taking photos.  We pause to admire one of the region’s signature trees, the gumbo-limbo, with it trademark showy red bark.  The red bark peels–reminiscent of sunburned skin—which gives it the nickname of “tourist tree.”  Its berries are popular with wildlife in the summer.

The Geezer Brigade is back at the parking area in an hour. We exchange phone numbers and promises to chase some snook together.  It’s been another interesting hike in the Fakahatchee Strand, full of surprises as usual.  Can’t wait to get back during the dry season to hit those prairie trails.

Hiking The Fab Four Trails Of The Fakahatachee Strand Preserve State Park: #1–The West Main

For my hike on the East Main Tram Trail, see: https://hooknfly.com/2023/01/26/hiking-the-fab-four-trails-of-the-fakahatchee-strand-preserve-state-park-2-the-east-main/

Late November 2022

Welcome to trekking through what the Miami Herald newspaper has called Florida’s best kept outdoor secret. Even on holiday weekends the preserve is rarely crowded, especially its trails. From its rare orchids to its extraordinary animals and unique landscape, the preserve is a special place. This series describing hikes in the preserve covers four of the main trails—the West Main, East Main, East Prairie, and South Tram that can be seen on the park map in the Overview section below.

The Fakahatchee Strand Preserve Is Located In SW Florida Near Everglades City

The Fakahatchee Strand, located in southwest Florida next to Everglades National Park, is a gentle wilderness, but it must be explored with care and caution. It is a place for ambling and observing, not rock’n rolling, rushing to set speed records. Hidden treasures and beauty abound. I hope you’ll enjoy these hikes, taking care to leave nothing behind but memories. And please consider joining me as a member of the Friends of the Fakahatchee, a wonderful non-profit organization that plays an essential role in protecting and interpreting the preserve. (Their website can be found at https://orchidswamp.org)

West Main Trail Overview

Location:  The turnout for the West Main trail is located about 4.3 miles northwest of the park entrance and headquarters on Janes Scenic Drive.

Difficulty/Length:  The trail, which follows a narrow two-track old logging road, is easy hiking and mostly flat with very little elevation gain from start to finish.

 

It is approximately 2.1 miles long from the gate to the prairie to the west.  It takes about 2.5 hours to hike through the Strand Swamp to the marl prairie and back but can easily take longer for the observant hiker. 

History/Highlights:  This trail follows an old tram road that was cleared when the cypress in the area was logged in the 1940s-1960s. 

Lush marsh vegetation featuring giant sword ferns, bald cypress, and beautiful wildflowers is the main attraction along with possible sighting of alligators, deer, bear, and numerous species of birds such as egrets and herons.  Lucky hikers may see the endangered Everglades Mink and Florida Panther.  Generally, the animals like the alligators are not aggressive, but should be respected and kept at a distance.

Essential gear:  Any time of year, but particularly from June through November, the trail can be muddy in spots and the vegetation covering the two-track trail dripping wet. These conditions call for long pants and long-sleeved shirts made of a fabric like nylon that will dry quickly as well as waterproof hiking boots.  I like my shirt or pants to have big pockets so I can grab my cell phone camera quickly.  During the winter dry months shorts may be okay, but the vegetation on the trail can be knee high in places and scratchy, especially for smaller children.   Don’t forget the bug repellant—the mosquitos and no-see-ums can be fierce, although less bothersome during the dry winter season, December through March.  I always carry a hiking staff as well as plenty of water.

Tips:  A good place to stop and soak in the scenery and environment is one of the many culverts that allows the Strand’s water to flow under the trail and continue its way to the Ten Thousand Islands in the Gulf. Let your eyes adjust to the dappled lighting of the swamp.  Slowly scan the forest and vegetation and you’ll be rewarded with views of flora and fauna you will miss if you hurry by.  

Some caveats. Before hitting the trail, make sure you tell someone where you are going and when you expect to be back in cell phone range. Cell phone coverage in the park is spotty. I also carry a Garmin inReach emergency satellite phone as a backup. Keep an eye peeled for alligators that frequent the deeper water around the culverts, and don’t be tempted to go wading through the shallow swamp or sloughs that parallel and cross the trail without an experienced guide (Swamp tours are offered by Friends of the Fakahatchee).  You may soon find yourself waist deep in water and muck or coming face-to-face with a big alligator!  There is a good rest spot with a picnic table about 1.25 miles into the hike near a couple of private cabins (that are on private inholdings in the preserve).  This is a good point for a turnaround if you are with younger children.  The rest of the trail is less traveled and more overgrown.  Keep an eye out for vines hanging over the trail—some have nasty thorns.

A Brief History And Overview Of The Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park

At over 70,000 acres, the park is the state’s largest although it hosts only about 100,000 visitors a year, far less than others like much smaller Bahia Honda State Park in the Florida Keys which sees over 700,000 annually. It is 20 miles long north to south and about 10 miles at its widest east to west.  However, the actual Fakahatchee Strand, the park’s namesake marshy central core where freshwater flows towards the Gulf of Mexico, is about 20 miles long by five miles wide. 

The preserve’s relative obscurity is due in large part to the fact that the park does comparatively little outreach to attract visitors, its primary mission being to protect the rare environment and its fauna and flora.  Nowhere will you find a visitors center even though this is the largest state park, although one is in the works   The park is world famous for orchids and rare vegetation like bromeliads and tropical epiphytes—plants that grow on other plants for support, but are not parasitic, getting water and food from the air. 

The park also is home to endangered species like the Florida Panther and Everglades Mink as well as a host of other critters ranging from scads of wading birds, ospreys, and hawks to diamondback terrapins, bobcats, river otter, bear, manatees, alligators, and crocodiles.  A skeleton staff of five work hard to protect the park. 

They are assisted by a remarkable group of volunteers called Friends of the Fakahatchee.  The organization is currently collaborating with the park to fund and build an interpretive pavilion on the Tamiami Trail at the Big Cypress Bend and open a visitors center near the park headquarters.  In addition to an interpretive display, the pavilion will feature a rain shelter, restrooms, and connections to a rebuilt boardwalk out into the preserve.

Work On New Facilities At The Big Cypress Bend Boardwalk Nears Completion

The history of the park is fascinating, both troubling and promising.  It was one of the last pieces that was put together to protect the Everglades, Marjorie Stoneman Douglas’ River of Grass.  Everglades National Park was created in 1947, but not until 1974 was land purchased for the Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park.  The property was acquired in response to development pressures and sprawl in Collier County, which rarely turned down any project.  Grandiose development plans associated with Golden Gate Estates in Naples and Port of the Islands envisioned residential projects that would house thousands of people with homes on canals carved into the west side of the Everglades.  As the early phases of these developments proceeded, the devastating impacts on the Everglades became all too clear.  The residential canals sucked water out of the Everglades into the Prairie and Faka Union Canals, lowering groundwater levels up to eight feet in some areas, stealing life-giving water from native plants.  Looking at an aerial view of the area today on Google Maps, the leftover scars are plainly visible.  The park purchase in 1974 help stem the assault on Everglades from the west, but much work remains to be done.  Today the west end of the state park and those leftover scars are part of a multibillion-dollar, multi-agency effort with the U.S Army Corps of Engineers and the South Florida Water Management District to plug the Prairie Canal and restore natural water flows through the western Everglades to the Ten Thousand Islands National Wildlife Area and Gulf. 

Canals Dug For Residential Development On The Preserve’s West Side That Disrupted The Natural Water Flow Are Being Filled In.

Despite the importance of the park in protecting the Everglades, it existed in relative obscurity until a best-selling publication, The Orchid Thief, was published in 1998. The book has been called a tale of beauty and obsession, a true story of a fanatic orchid poacher in the preserve named Larouche and his Seminole assistants. The book was later turned into a highly rated popular movie, Adaptation, starring Nicholas Cage and Meryl Streep. It was the plethora of orchids, over 40 and many rare, and the amazing variety of bromeliads and air plants that led the Fakahatchee Stand to be dubbed the Amazon of North America. Even today the park staff must keep a sharp eye out for orchid poachers, assisted by remote video cameras hidden in key locations.

Fortunately, the park has recovered nicely from being heavily logged from 1944 into the 1950s for pine and cypress.  Cypress wood is highly water resistant and was in demand during World War II for making aircraft carrier decks and PT boats among other vessels.  Today it is used for more peaceful products like decking and coffins.  The tiny communities of Copeland and Jerome within the park are reminders of those days, having served as home to loggers in that era.

As the timber harvesting slowed in the 1950s, several freshwater lakes were created in the 1950s and 60s when limestone rocks and gravel were gouged out for Alligator Alley and other highways.   The canals in the park to the south along the Tamiami Trail were carved out much earlier in the 1920s with big steam-powered dredges to provide fill upon which to build the highway linking the east and west coasts of Florida, a daunting task. Back then the highway was called the Eighth Wonder of the World.  The fact that the Fakahatchee Strand recuperated into a reasonably functioning ecosystem after all this is poking and prodding is a testament to nature’s resilience.  Now the question many ask is if the park can survive global warming and sea-level rise as well as the invasion of non-native plants and wildlife like Brazilian pepper and Burmese pythons.

The Hike

I’m at the park gate on Janes Scenic Drive a few minutes before 8 a.m. when it opens.  I deposit my three-dollar entrance fee in the pay box located at the nearby kiosk and dutifully hang the little blue pass from my review mirror. 

Anxious to get going and beat anyone else to the trail, I pop my SUV into gear and start down the gravel road.  But out of the corner of my eye, something catches my attention.  There’s a beehive of activity just off the main road.  I make a quick turn to the left towards the lakes and realize I’ve stumbled on what appears to be a meeting of some fellow attorneys (I’m a retired lawyer.)  But as I get closer, I recognize that it’s not a bar association meeting, but actually a congregation of some giant red-headed and black vultures warming in the early morning sun  before heading out for breakfast.

We exchange pleasantries, and I resume my trek up the road.

The Janes Scenic Drive route to the West Main trail starts out through a broad prairie, something you might not expect to see in the Everglades.  But this time of year, it’s a wet prairie, very popular with wading birds like the majestic great egrets, colorful roseate spoonbills, herons, and ibis. 

Soon the road curves to the west and is enveloped by sabal (cabbage) palms and bald cypress trees. This looks more like a swamp I think. The speed limit is only 10 mph, so I force myself to slow down and take in the scenery.

I see a sign for a mink crossing that puts a smile on my face—reminding me I’m in the habitat of the endangered Everglades Mink.  Then incredibly just a minute later I see a tiny foot-long mink scurry across the road!  This is going to be a good day!

I drive slowly, hopping out of the car here and there at culverts that allow the water to flow south through the strand.  The water is fresh and tea-stained but clear.  I see lots of small fish darting hither and yon, then come to one where the flow deepens to several feet.  Here I spy some bigger finny critters—Mayan Cichlids, invaders from South America, that resemble bluegill and some two-foot long, toothy gar, antediluvian creatures that have been around since the dinosaurs.  Maybe next time I’ll throw fishing rod in with my hiking gear.

Long-Nose Gar

By 8:30 a.m. I am at the turnout for the trail, park the SUV, and walk over to take a look at the array of informational exhibits.

At The Trailhead And Ready To Roll

It’s a late fall day, unseasonably hot and humid.  My eyelids are actually sweating as the temperature creeps into the 80s.  The trail will have some muddy stretches courtesy of Hurricane Ian and Tropical Storm Nicole.  I’m lathered up with a non-Deet bug repellant, but oddly, despite the surfeit of water, the mosquitos won’t be bad today.  A light breeze helps matters.

I slide around the big gate and start down the trail.  Having spent the summer in the mountains of Colorado, I’m immediately struck by how flat the path is and closed in by vegetation of all sorts.

First Look–The Isn’t Colorado or Kansas!

It’s not unusual for a trek into the mountains or a canyon there to involve an elevation gain of a thousand feet or more.  Here I’m only a few feet below the prairies that flank the slough where the water accumulates and flows to the Gulf.  And in contrast to the wide-open vistas in the Rockies, here the scene is much more cloistered, more subtle, with the environment closing in. 

The dominant feature is the vegetation which can vary greatly within a few feet. Giant sword ferns line the trail with a verdant green in many stretches, and the most prominent trees are the ubiquitous sabal/cabbage palm and bald cypress.

Being follicley challenged myself, I feel a particular affinity with the bald cypress, a relative of the redwoods.  Although they are conifers, bald cypress are not evergreen.  They lose leaves (and become bald) in the autumn and in southern Florida grow new ones in the winter.  They also have odd looking bulges that are called “knees” at their base in the water.  Some experts think they help the roots breathe while others feel they are for support in the marshy wet muck. 

I can hear birds in the bush, but they are hard to see. A catbird is mewing at me, and I answer him with my patented cat-like call that immediately elicits a response. I can hear an osprey screeching on high nearby. Here and there I will get quick glimpses of egrets, ibis, and herons as they flap away to hide in the forest. Tiny warblers flit quickly for cover. Suddently a red-shouldered hawk swoopes in for a look at this visitor.

I keep a sharp eye out for wildflowers and am soon rewarded with a close-up view of a lovely lavender pickerelweed tucked away in a corner. Soon a dainty Florida swamp-lily reveals itself. A little further down the trail I spy a bushy plant with red berries that my go-to plant app PictureThis identifies as St. John’s wild coffee. My old hippie friends probably know it better by its scientific name, Psychotria Nervosa! Wink, wink, say no more!!

Then I come to what looks to be a grove of oranges.  And it is–Seville or bitter oranges.  Reportedly Seville oranges were brought to Florida in the 1700s by the first Spanish to land in St. Augustine.  By 1800  they had become widely planted by early settlers and local Native Americans and have now spread throughout southern Florida. 

Today, they are primarily grown commercially for rootstock for grafting budwood for sweet oranges.  Believe me, they are bitter, but can be used for making marmalade or certain liqueurs or as a substitute for lemons in cooking.  Just don’t pick any in the park!   

As I meander up the trail, I notice little critters–frogs and lizards–scurrying for cover. Despite putting some of my speedy basketballer moves on them, they elude my grasp and then disappear into the undergrowth. I keep at it and manage to corner a cat-like quick caterpillar of the Tetrio sphinx moth clan. He’s a striking specimen and will eventually morph into a giant hawk moth with a wingspan of 5-6 inches!

A few hundred feet further down the trail I come to a big culvert and sidle up close to the waters edge for a look, and have a holy **** moment. A six-foot gator lies submerged only a few feet away, his eyes fixed on me. I quickly shift into reverse. Fortunately the gator probably figured there wasn’t enough meat on my ancient scrawny frame to bother. I rarely find alligators in the park to be aggressive, even when I am kayaking near them on one of the preserve’s creeks or lakes, but it’s a reminder to be cautious.

I take a few minutes to admire this stunning, positively prehistoric-looking creature. He doesn’t move a muscle. Finally, I take a deep breath and continue on, soon coming to a fork in the tram road. I stay to the right to remain on the West Main trail. The left fork takes you down the South Tram Trail.

Keep Right At The Fork To Stay On The West Main Trail

After about an hour of ambling at a slow pace from the trailhead, I arrive at a wide spot in the path with a picnic table.    I have walked about a mile and a quarter.  This is a good place to rest, have a drink and a snack. 

Time To Relax And Refuel

The views down the cypress forest and marsh are stunning.  Nearby across the water to the north, two rustic cabins stand on private inholdings within the park.    You can photograph one of the cabins from the trail, but please obey the no-trespassing signs.

After recharging my batteries with some Gatorade and a trail bar, I continue hiking to the west. The trail becomes more overgrown, clearly getting less traffic than the first leg of the trek. In a few minutes I come to one of the biggest culverts on the trail with water gurgling through it on its journey south. The sun breaks through and lights things up, letting me peer deeper into the forest.

After snapping a few more photos, I pick up the pace, anxious to see the vast open prairie not far ahead that I explored several years ago.  I remember feeling that I had wandered into Kansas, my boyhood home, with the beautiful expanse of prairie grasses and wildflowers buzzing with big colorful grasshoppers.  

Prairie Bugs Just Ahead…Eastern Lubber Grasshopper

But it’s not to be this trip. As I see things get brighter just up ahead as the forest thins, I can make out an image in the trail—it’s a big pool of water reflecting the surrounding cypress where the road should be. 

Wash Out!!

Darn! Too much water this year still coming down from the north.  I should have brought my kayak wading boots, but don’t feel like getting my tootsies wet today. 

I have come about 2.25 miles from the trailhead, it’s pushing 10:30 a.m., and getting hot, so with a good hour hike back to my vehicle, I decide to turnaround now so I’ll have plenty of time to see things that I missed. It’s always interesting what a different perspective tracing your steps back on a trail will bring, often leaving me wondering how it was possible I missed something obvious, passing it by on the way in. This time it is a bright red wildflower called Firebrush, then a brilliant yellow Creeping-Oxeye, followed by the colorfully named Bull-Tongue Arrowhead.

I stop to investigate all the white splotches on trees along the path and discover its a gnarly looking tree fungus called Arthoniaceae that form lichen communities with algae or bacteria. Nearby I spy another striking member of the fungi family call Polyporaceae. My plant ID app says it contains a neurotoxin and not to eat it! As if I was just drooling to do so!

But the highlight ot the trek back is some cute baby gators that catch my attention when they start squeaking as I walk over a culvert.  I take a video of them I know my granddaughter Aly back in Colorado will get a kick out of.

Just over an hour later I’m at my SUV, proud that my aging septuagenarian body was able to pull through without any major aches and pains and only a few minor lacerations.  Now I’ll enjoy a quiet drive home.  After shedding my pack and boots, I decide to head north on Janes Scenic Drive to check out the East Main trailhead and maybe see a Florida panther on the road as I did a few years ago.  Instead, as I am craning my neck looking at some air plants in the forest, I nearly run over a giant gator lounging in the sun on the edge of the road.

I get out of the car and chastise him severely for not using the designated gator crosswalk, but he seems to ignore my warning.  I decide not to pursue the matter any further.

Soon I come to a deadend that marks the start of the long East Main trail. I take a few photos, noting that the road that formerly went all the way to the Picayune Forest five miles away now has been blocked off as a specially protected wildlife area.  Good to know there is another quiet, remote trail to explore.

Miles More Wild Country To Explore

I turn around and head back south to the park entrance, keeping my eyes peeled for the frisky Everglades Mink I saw earlier in the day, but I don’t rate a return performance by the little guy. Soon the forest and swamp turn to prairie. I see bushes along the road loaded with some pretty small yellow flowers–Peruvian Primrose-Willow and many more delicate marsh-lilies.

And another mile down the drive, I am treated to an avian sideshow—a huge vortex of white birds spins out of the sky and descends into the tall grass along the road.  It’s a mixed flock of egrets and ibis with a couple of roseate spoonbills added for good measure.  I pull over quickly, and as they land, I can see they are feeding on something in the standing water around the prairie grass, their heads bobbing up and down as they chase down their prey.  Then as another car drives by slowly, they erupt into the air, putting on a great show before swooping back in for more victuals. 

So ends another fascinating day in the Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park.  Can’t wait to get back and explore that prairie!

Taking A Hike In The Everglades…And Stumbling On A Hidden Bass Lake

April 2022

I’ve been hard at it the past two days writing a fishing article for Florida Sportsman and decided to come up for some fresh air. It’s sunny outside so looks like a good day for a little hike in the Everglades near Everglades City. I’ve had my eye on nearby Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park, the largest in Florida and one that protects thousands of acres of uplands that are prime habitat for the endangered Florida panther. But who hikes in the Everglades??

When I first moved to the Glades about seven years ago, I had no idea you could hike anywhere around here–just too darn wet I thought. In the summer torrential rains cover the Everglades with several feet of water. But I have since learned that during the winter and spring months, the Glades get very little rain. That’s when the marshes dry up, and saltwater from the Gulf pushes far inland via tidal creeks. When I first hiked a trail in the Fakahatchee Strand several years ago, I was struck how similar the landscape was to the prairies of Kansas where I grew up–wildflowers among the tall grass, grasshoppers everywhere, birds hiding in the cover, and hawks soaring overhead. So off I go!!

I arrive at the unmarked trailhead around 9 a.m. as the sun starts to heat things up. High 80s is the forecast. I don my kayak water boots knowing that it’s likely I will encounter pools of water and spongy ground here and there. Then it’s into the wilds. I have the whole place to myself!

Everglades Prairie

The terrain is dry, spongy and a little wet in places, but eminently navigable.

I don’t have to walk far before a giant grasshopper takes flight a few feet in front of me. I scurry after the big guy and using my patented grasshopper hunting technique (one hand in front of the hopper to distract him, then snatch him from behind with my other hand) am soon admiring his outrageously beautiful, distinctive colors. He’s over two inches long, an Eastern Lubber Grasshopper.

As I look him over more closely, the hopper starts to foam. I’ll later read that this dark-colored secretion, resembling tobacco juice, is noxious to birds, not to mention odious to humans. Such is the life of a big-game hunter!

A bit later another grasshoppers whirs away from me, but with my quick and nimble septuagenarian moves, I corner him. Turns out it’s a juvenile Easter Lubber Grasshopper who is sporting different, but equally impressive colors.

Juvenile Eastern Lubber Grasshopper

I also start to notice the petite wildflowers hiding among the tall grass and reeds. I admire the delicate pink Rose of Plymouth, a salt-tolerant marsh flower that is threatened or endangered in some parts of the U.S.

Rose of Plymouth Wildflower

Then there is the aptly named Sweetscent–an herb with small flowers and a pleasant camphor-like aroma. It’s another wetland flower, one that is often used in dried flower arrangements.

Sweetscent Herb And Flower

A few minutes later a giant Marsh Marigold catches my eye, another salt-water tolerant perennial plant that sports its big flowers on six-foot vines.

Marsh Marigold

The dry, spongy ground suddenly dips into a little creek that appears to be flowing somewhere, so I follow it. I crash through a tangle of brush, reeds, and tall grass and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a hidden crystal-clear lake that just happens to have some fish finning in the shallows. An angler’s dream.

Hidden Lake

Another oddity of the lower Everglades just north of Everglades City where saltwater normally rules, is the existence of a number of freshwater lakes like this one. The crust below the marsh in many areas is limestone, and in some places freshwater springs have created these lakes that harbor freshwater fish like Largemouth Bass, Long-nose Gar, and Bluegill. In others, the lakes are the result of mining limestone gravel for highways in the area like the Tamiami Trail and Alligator Alley (Interstate 75).

I wade into the clear, cool water and immediately spook a big largemouth bass then a school of smaller fish–maybe bluegill or Mayan Cichlids, a freshwater invader from South America.

Angler’s Dream

Suddenly something erupts in the cove, a big gar performing some acrobatics while chasing prey. I start to see gar spawning on the edge of the limestone shelf along the shoreline.

Feeding Gar
Spawning Long-Nose Gar

It’s almost noon now, and the sun is beating down hard. After ogling the fish and scenery between bites on an apple, I begin to saunter back to my SUV. On the way, I come across a stand of Bald Cypress.

Bald Cypress Sporting New Needles

Being follicly-challenged, I have a special affinity for this odd tree. It is what the botanists call a “deciduous conifer.” It’s unique–the only conifer to shed its lacy needles every fall, becoming “bald” for the winter, then regrowing them in the spring. Oh that I be so lucky! Bald Cypress flourish in marshy areas, its wood highly valued for water resistance.

I next stumble across the only sign someone has been here before me–a small flip-flop sandal. I wonder what the story is behind that? Who left it? Why only one?

The Flip-Flop Mystery

In my head, I also start to hatch my fishing trip for tomorrow. I’ll be back early in my kayak to see if I can score a rare Everglades fishing freshwater slam–catch a bass, gar, and bluegill in a single day.

Deep In Thought

Then it hits me. Maybe I can start a new fishing fad and organization–call it BassGar! Could be a huge dollar deal!! I start dreaming about big fishing tournaments where the kayaks are plastered with sponsors’ ads and the contestants are wearing jumpsuits dressed up with emblems of their wealthy corporate patrons and backers. Just like Nascar! I can almost hear the boys in the yaks yelling “booyah” when they hook a big one.

But just then I catch sight of my favorite Everglades bird, the graceful swallow-tail kite. He soars overhead surveying the scene.

The Graceful Swallow-Tail Kite

As I admire his elegance, my nutty BassGar scheme quickly fades away. Who could possibly want to disturb this remarkable country, this solitude? We need to protect more, not fewer, of these special places! A walk in the wilds for everyone would do this country a world of good right now.