WET HIKING IN SOUTH FLORIDA                       

            Stepping voluntarily from the perfectly good earth into the murky swamp waters of Fakahatchee Strand may not be for everyone. Within a few feet, any trace of civilization disappears, and I am reminded of the David Byrne song which says "this ain't no disco, this ain't no party, this ain't no fooling around." In the swamp it is dark, the water is cool, while shafts of sunlight break through the pop ash, pond apple and cypress.

            Just seconds before taking my first plunge into the Strand, Park Biologist Mike Owen pointed-out an alligator to our left. "I don't think the gator will be a problem," Mike said. As if on cue, the 7-foot gator submerged, letting go a stream of bubbles on his way down.

            This was my first trip into the Strand in 1997. I was working on a book called Florida's Fabulous Natural Places and was anxious to show no fear, lose no face, while displaying proper love for the environmental splendor around me. But I am a city boy, who when he gets into water, is usually diving into his swimming pool. Tripping over roots in dark impenetrable waters, accompanied by alligators and potential venomous snakes, was a new experience for me - not yet the pleasant one it was later to become.

            My other companions, photographer Pete Carmichael and naturalist Bill Booth, didn't make it easy on me either. They joked about Florida cottonmouths, more popularly known as water moccasins. Mike Owen had a cottonmouth strike at him during one of his myriad trips into the heart of the great swamp. "Cottonmouths are more common in the lakes than where we are," Mike said reassuringly, while Pete talked about the cottonmouths swimming past him on previous visits precisely where we presently were.

             A strand, by the way, is a swamp with a limestone bottom and an elongated channel. Not a place, as this article may make you believe, where gut-checks of would-be environmental writers are conducted by seasoned swamp veterans.

            Mike the biologist doesn't carry guns. Rather, for eleven years he has walked into the swamp armed only with a notebook, a pencil and maybe a length of PVC pipe for balance. Mike jots into the notebook the plant and animal species seen that day. In fact, Mike rarely stops jotting.            

            That's because the Strand is a sort of biological Garden of Eden and my favorite wet hike in all of South Florida. The Fakahatchee holds 43 species of orchids and a dozen or so species of bromeliads, which gather in crate-like clusters in the trees.

            Some orchids, like the famous ghost orchid, have enormous root structures, wrapped around stumps and trunks like vine, and a tiny flower seen for a relatively short period. To see a flowering ghost orchid is a rare and special event in the summer months. It is also an act of bravery, for mosquitoes then gather in groups larger than a horde, whatever that size group might be - maybe a mega horde. 

            The Strand also holds perhaps as many as 7,000 naturally-occurring royal palms, the largest concentration in North America.

            Ghost orchids and other endemics, found nowhere else in North America, are just part of the rich biology in the strand. Mike Owen has seen panthers on Janes Scenic Drive, the main road through the Strand. During my third visit into the Fakahatchee with Mike in September 2004, a Florida black bear came across the main park road not 50 yards from us. 

            With the first breath of cool Fall weather, I gather my backpack and head out into a South Florida air-conditioned at last by nature and purged of pesky skeeters. Here are some favorite places for hiking, some quite challenging, others more mild. All are quintessential of South Florida, a land where hiking is sometimes wet.

            Big Cypress National Preserve. My favorite hike is to Bear Island, where normally one has to wade through chest-deep marsh to get from one side of the trail to the other. This petrified my wife when we tried it, a woman who does not swim and who thought at every step she would disturb a large alligator resting on the bottom. Safely on land, an alligator basking on the bank did turn violently and hiss at us, making Pamela Phillips-Ohr wish she was back in the marsh. This is not an area for casual hikers, but for those well-prepared and fairly self-reliant. 

            (Previews of what to expect can be obtained at www.nps.gov.    

 All hikes at Big Cypress start at the Visitor Center a few miles east of SR-29 on US-41. This is because free permits are needed, including back-country permits if camping. Two portions of the Florida Trail exist within the preserve: one 6.5-mile stretch from Loop Road to US-41; the other a Herculean 28-mile hike from US-41 to a rest area at Mile Marker 63 on I-75. There is also a 5-mile Fire Trail.)

            Collier-Seminole State Park. The Florida population of American crocodiles is small and endangered. The first and only one I have ever seen was floating like a small log in Collier-Seminole State Park on my first visit. 

            The 6.5-mile Florida Trail Loop has everything a hiker could hope for in South Florida. A Miccosukee village lies at the western portion of the trail, although hikers should not enter the village but respect the villagers privacy. Most South Florida habitats are represented along the trail, including flatwoods, swamp and prairie.

            Florida black bears and Florida panthers are sometimes present in the area. To get a glimpse of a panther is a rare and fine experience. When seeing a black bear, don't blink. The bears typically take one sniff and run, crashing in a straight line through the brush. Sometimes they don't even hesitate to sniff.

            (The park is located 18 miles south of Naples on US-41. The loop trail is on the east side of the road, but check in first at the park gate. Park information is available on the web at www.floridastateparks.org.)    

            Corkscrew Swamp. The 2.25-mile boardwalk at this famous Audubon Sanctuary should not be walked fast but slow in order to savor the wildlife viewing and the magnificent cypress. It is the great trees which summon me time and again to this sanctuary.

            Corkscrew Swamp is not only a cypress swamp; it is the premier cypress swamp in Florida, one reason it has been filmed and featured in documentaries for many years. It contains the oldest remaining stand of ancient bald cypress in Florida. The trees, which reach skyward 130 feet and are as much as 500-years-old, are encircled by smaller pond cypress.

            My personal favorite way to experience Corkscrew Swamp is to arrive early in the morning when sunlight is streaming through openings in the tree canopy. I hike to about the midpoint of the boardwalk until I am in the heart of the stand. Then I take a seat and look above me. The shafts of morning light shooting through the cypress generates for me a feeling that I am sitting in nature's cathedral.

            This is also a very easy walk.

            (From I-75 in Naples, go east 15 miles on CR-846.

Information is available on the web at www.audubon.irg/local/sanctuary/corkscrew.)

            "Ding" Darling National Wildlife Refuge. Wildlife Drive is a well-known way to experience the refuge, whether by hiking, biking or driving in your automobile. However, I much prefer hiking the 2-mile Indigo Trail.

            The very first time I hiked the trail with my wife, we wondered what the large pink flowers were in the trees. Upon closer examination, we were seeing the pink of roseate spoonbills perched on branches in the shadows.

            Although there are times when I simply want to hike undisturbed for thought and solitude, I am always ready to be surprised by wildlife. A hike along Indigo Trail usually provides sightings of alligators, anhingas and cormorants, among other living creatures. And, of course, a black racer (if not an Indigo) might shoot across the trail in front of you.  

            ("Ding" Darling NWR, which has a superior staff and is beloved by many local volunteers, can be contacted at 239-472-1100. The visitor center and main entrance are on Sanibel Island to the west of Fort Myers. Numerous signs mean you can't miss it.)  

            Everglades National Park, Flamingo Entrance. This is the thought visiting Flamingo always brings to mind: "There is no other place on the planet like this one."

            The "River of Grass" is a natural treasure whose value has been written about by far better-known writers and naturalists than this one. The National Park preserves about one-quarter of the historic Florida marvel. Traditionally fed by the overflow of Lake Okeechobee, the vast central Everglades marsh system (marsh being treeless, opposed to forested swamps) is like no other spot in the entire world.          

            Within the central marsh, the horizon is startling to me. If I let my imagination loose, the vistas look like prairies out west. It is very flat land, like you would find driving through portions of the west. Each slight bump or drop in elevation from the main gate to Flamingo changes what lives there and the type of ecosystem.

            Within the marsh, small clumps of trees, usually coastal plains willow, grow around so-called "gator" holes and individual hammocks of tropical trees. Into the gator holes, life retreats when drought comes, into the gator wallow and feeding ground, where survival requires high risk. In high water, the "sheet flow" from the north brings life-giving water with it.

            (Prudent visitors will stop at the Visitors Center for information on trails and current conditions. It is also pos*sible to prepare for visits by visiting at www.nps.gov/ever/. Bicycling and hiking takes place on all park roads, Long Pine Key Nature Trail, Old Ingraham Highway, Snake Bight Trail, and Rowdy Bend Trail. In addition there are more than a dozen short trails and boardwalks, some famous for mahogany stands, others for bird life. The road to Flamingo is SR-9336, accessed from US-1 in Homestead/Florida City.)

            Everglades National Park, Shark Valley Entrance. I have a friend who told me she wanted to see gators. Her name is Pyhillis Williams, and I have never seen anyone get so much joy from a reptile with a brain the size of a walnut who could kill you. To satisfy her desire to see alligators, I brought her and her husband Jim to Shark Valley.

            Gators at Shark Valley sprawl across the paved 15-mile trail. They are in the canals beside the trail, sometimes cross the trail in front of you, often slither into the canals from the trail. When you get to the enormous tower at more-or-less the midpoint of the trail, you climb it to find right below (what else?) more alligators, some behemoths.

            Phyllis, whose usually reaction upon seeing a gator is something like, "Oh, wow! Look at that, will you! Jim, look at that! Tim, look at that! Oh, my God!" was hoarse by the end of her visit.  

            (For those who don't want to walk 15 miles, a guided tram tour is well worth your time to bone-up on Everglades ecology. In addition to the 15-mile trip, there are two shorter trailers. Guided tours also walk into the mostly treeless Everglades central marsh system. Shark Valley Entrance to Everglades National Park is on the south side of US-41 about 30 miles west of Miami. Internet resource: same as Flamingo Entrance above.) 

            Fakahatchee Strand Preserve State Park. The preserve is discussed at the beginning and end of this article. 

            (From I-75 south of Naples, the first exit after the toll is at SR-29. Proceeding south on SR-29, the signs to the state park are prominent. To reach the biologist at the park office, email Mike.Owen@dep.state.fl.us. Information on the park is available at www.myflorida.com.)       

            Lovers Key State Park. To quote myself, "Visiting this recreation area will make many Floridians remember why they moved to Florida, and why they never left."

            This is not only an easy walk, it is a colorful one. Along the mile or so of paths leading  to the beach are a variety of dune flowers. In most seasons, some are in bloom, colorful yellow-and- purple white-and-blue decorating the sand and continuing life. Once you reach the beach, there are 2.5 miles Gulf-side to stroll with the sound of the surf in your ears and porpoise in your eyes. If this is still not enough reason to go, you can also take a dip into the Gulf, rent a kayak at the concession and get a tan all at the same time, making for a gorgeous Florida day.

            (Going south from Fort Myers Beach, one crosses Big Carlos Pass. Shortly, the first entrance into the park is on the right. It is a little less than a mile down this path by hike or bike to the beach. A second entrance lies slightly farther south. Internet resource: www.leeparks.com.)

            If the reader feels inspired by this article to walk into the Fakahatchee Strand, I suggest contacting Mike Owen at the email address above. Mike conducts monthly swamp walks.

            If proceeding on your own, however, Mike has some safety tips. Never travel alone and bring a compass. Jungle boots from an Army-Navy Surplus would be handy, sneakers second best. Wading boots will just bog you down. A length of PVC or a walking stick is necessary to keep from falling forward or backwards over roots.   Wet hiking in the Fakahatchee grows on you; I am living proof. Three times with Mike Owen and many times with friends, I have left the safety of dry land to walk into the Strand.

            In the darkness under the tree canopy, there is a sort of quietude not easily found within our communities. Standing still in the swamp and allowing the living creatures around you to forget you are there (from frogs who now call, to butterflies who flitter by on the way to a flower, to (yes) alligators who now rise back up from the depths). This ill provide you with a panorama of swamp life. Passing the next group of cypress may reveal the ghost orchid, rarely seen by mortals. Even if the ghost orchid remains elusive, spectacular botany abounds. When you walk out of the swamp, a memory of a lifetime will be carried with you, a green living impression whose value cannot be measured in dollars.