Parker Hammocks Camp to Little Scrub Campsite-March 1st

Woke up early to see what could be seen from Lake Maran Observation Tower, which because of heavy fog wasn't much, just some birds flying past and a patch of open water. Besides, the observation tower indicated on the FT map is really an observation deck. It doesn't take you up a flight of stairs like the tower at Lake Jackson, but is only slightly elevated above the level of the ground, a ramp leading to the platform. Nevertheless, in better conditions, I'm sure there'd be some great views.
On the way back to camp I came to the realization that today's thicker fog was an indication that the weather had changed. Indeed, it was the first day of rain on the trail. Off again, on again with one brief downpour.
Shortly after crossing CR 523 I really couldn't believe what I saw---two other hikers on the trail ahead of me. Human Contact! These were the first hikers I'd met on the Florida Trail in over a week. Going by the trail names Amoeba and Cloudwalker, they were doing bits of the trail as section hikers. We were able to talk for a while beneath the underpass of the Florida Turnpike as we stopped to have a break and take shelter from the rain. Amoeba was from Syracuse, New York and Cloudwalker was from Ocala, Florida. Both have hiked the Appalachian Trail and spent some time on the PCT. Cloudwalker told me that some parts of Florida are experiencing a significant period of drought and that's the reason water levels are so low at the moment. Perhaps the rain falling today will help alleviate that problem.
Hiking between the Florida Turnpike and US 441 was mostly through sparse pine and palmetto. Cypress domes were seen all around on the horizon, dark gray skies threatening rain from above. The one downpour I mentioned earlier occurred while hiking this section and I happened to be caught out in it as the water came down in sheets, soaking me from head to toe. The jaunt along 441 was quick with very little traffic, so I was actually able to walk on the road surface. Along the way I saw three raccoons near a side ditch.
To my astonishment, I became a part of the wildlife tour as I was passing through Forever Florida. Walking on the dirt road that forms this part of trail, the eco-safari bus loaded with tourists rounds a turn and heads in my direction. When the lady who is conducting the tour sees me, she starts speaking over the microphone about how five miles of the Florida National Scenic Trail crosses park lands. Pointing at me, she says, "Look, there's a hiker now." Suddenly, all of these eyes are riveted on me and I feel like some endangered specie at the San Diego Wild Animal Park back home. The tour guide tells me I'm welcome to ride along with them, but I'm going the wrong way to which I replied that I'd started in Miami and was going all the way to Pensacola. Well, that news certainly dropped some jaws among the gawkers as some gasps were heard and more finger pointing ensued. Truly surreal being a part of the Human Zoo.
The Forever Florida campsite is superb. Built for the trail rides offered by Florida Eco-Safaris, it is intended for the stay of Forever Florida guests, but thru-hikers are more than welcome to take advantage of the facilities when not in use. Restrooms with flush toilets, showers with hot water, lights run off of solar energy, potable water, kitchen area with sink, a fire ring surrounded by benches and a picnic shelter---a hiker's Shangri-la. I stopped by for a pit stop and a snack break and was rewarded with a liter of ginger ale that some previous guest had left in the kitchen. Glug-glug!
Another 4.3 miles and I pulled into a more humble abode, Little Scrub Campsite, which I like very much. No mosquitoes, a soft sandy floor for the tent and a true sense of being away from it all. The water pump wasn't working, but no need to worry because I'd filled the 4-liter Platypus tank at Forever Florida. The sun came out around three making it easy for me to dry things out towards the end of a rainy day, including my wrinkly sodden feet. The soft light of the evening was a joy to behold.


Palmetto and Distant Cypress Dome
Wet Feet
Little Scrub Camp

Little Scrub Campsite to Junction CR 419/Nova Road---March 2nd

A pleasant beginning to the day tramping through scrub, palmetto and pine towards the cypress of Yoke Branch. At the southern edge of the branch there was an area that had just recently burned, smoke still rising from the trunks of a few toppled trees. Whether this was a controlled burn I couldn't tell, but considering the extent of the burn I'd say it was. There was a cypress swamp, but due to the extended dry spell during which there has been very little heavy rain, it was almost dry.
I saw Amoeba and Cloudwalker again. They are using a two car system in which they'll both drive to a trailhead, park one of the cars, then travel to where they want to start their hike, leave the second car there, hike the section, then hop in the first car and return to retrieve the second. Cloudwalker told me that he had heard news that Bradwell Bay was empty and that tomorrow he was going to check it out to see if it was true. I certainly hope that there is some water there. It would be a shame if there wasn't. Though forbidding, it was one of the unique swamp water places I was looking forward to experiencing. No water would clearly detract from that experience.
The highlight of today was the area around Crabgrass Creek, footbridges spanning the three branches, a wide variety of deciduous trees, palms, ferns and wildflowers growing along the sides of the path. At one point a black snake was seen sunning itself in the middle of the trail, before it slithered off into the underbrush. It was only a common racer snake, but my initial thought whenever I first catch sight of one is COTTONMOUTH!!!! My heart beats faster even when it's a false alarm.
Before the US 192 junction I paused briefly at Jane Green Campsite since the pump there was working. A faint hint of rust in the water, but that was understandable given the age of some of these pumps. I've definitely learned by now that Florida water isn't perfect.
I was walking the highway when the FT section chief pulled over with a friend in his pickup. We chatted a while about trail conditions and the number of hikers on the trail this year. It would seem that the Florida Trail is becoming more popular from what he said. He also informed me that I was in for a long road walk because the trail which had formerly crossed the Deseret Cattle and Citrus Ranch had had to be rerouted along the CR 419 when the owners withdrew their permission for hikers to cross. (Come on Mormons, let me through. After all, I'm a Mormon too.) What a long road walk it was too! From 13:30 to 18:30. Five hours on pavement under the blazing sun. Argh!
The fiery ball in the sky was falling fast and the skeeters were starting to swarm by the time I reached the junction with Nova Road. I hastily threw up my tent as fast as I could and jumped inside, thwarting the blood-thirsty insects attempts to drain my veins. I was probably camping illegally so close to a county road, but where else was I going to spend the night hemmed in as I was by fences bearing No Trespassing signs? My only hope is that nobody will notice me tucked away behind this small stand of trees and that I'll be left in peace.


Wildflowers near Yoke Branch
Bridge across Crabgrass Creek

Junction CR 419/Nova Road to Tiger Branch Campsite---March 3rd

Up before the sun in order to break camp before the county sheriff asks me what the heck I'm doing here. Another five hours along asphalt, but it wasn't as bad as yesterday. It was in the morning so temperatures were cooler, the weather was cooperating, providing a little cloud cover, the roads were tree-lined, creating plenty of shade since the sun was still low and, as an added bonus, there was even ground next to the shoulder. In addition, very few cars travelled these roads. However, one that did pulled over and stopped beside me. The driver asked if I was doing the Florida Trail. Almost before I could reply, I was given a V8 and a banana. Turns out he was a trail angel giving a section hiker a ride to the Taylor Creek trail head.
Finally finished with paths built for cars, I walked the last couple of miles exclusively for those on foot. It was a pleasant surprise to see benches, a picnic table and a port-a-potty when I arrived at Tiger Branch Campsite. Took my time setting up my tent, airing out my sleeping bag and reading from The Last of the Mohicans. Margaret, the section hiker/passenger in the trail angel's car arrived at 3 p.m. She's done quite a bit of both the Florida and Appalachian trails, but only as a section hiker. Only out for the weekend, she offered me some dried apples and strawberries which she had dehydrated at home. She also had a surplus of drinking water which she threw into the bargain. How could I refuse for just like Little Scrub Campsite, no matter how much I tried to prime the pump, I couldn't draw out even a drop of liquid from the well. I learned that in the hot weather the rubber seals dry out and crack so when you crank the handle there's no suction because they won't seal properly.
Anyway, Margaret teaches physical therapy at a university in St. Augustine. She earned the trail name "Hammer" from her students due to her being strict and very demanding in the classroom. She's also a retired Colonel (full bird), having served in the Air Force Reserve.
As the conversation waned, I retired to my tent before the mosquitoes got too thick. Camped in the midst of pines and palms, a breath of wind was stirring the treetops and rustling the fronds as I drifted off to sleep.

The Long and Not So Winding Road

Tiger Branch Campsite to Mills Creek Camp---March 4th

The morning rose clear and cloudless, but after bidding farewell to "Hammer" and enjoying the soft light of the early hour as I strode through a forest of palms, the sky turned gray and it began to rain. The first downpour happened while I was exiting the north gate of Tosohatchee Wildlife Management Area. I took shelter under the branches of a young oak and waited for the heavy drops of rain to lessen. The second downpour occurred while I was hiking under the leafy canopy. Not being hit directly by the rain, I was nevertheless slowly getting soaked by the steady dripping from leaf, twig and branch. All hope of staying half-way dry were given up as the heavens opened at Orlando Wetlands Park and for the most part it continued to rain for the remainder of the day.
At Orlando Wetlands, instead of following the orange blaze along the fence line, it is best to walk up on the dike so you can view the marsh. The path atop the dike and the Florida Trail end up at the same place as you leave the park. Unfortunately, with it raining cats and dogs, on this day there wasn't much to see. A few coots and a blue heron amongst the lily pads and reeds were the only birdlife I spied. The animal that truly seemed to enjoy such inclement weather was the wild pig. I had my first sighting near a creek where two wild pigs were on the bank, heads lowered, drinking. When they saw me on the opposite side, they gave out a loud squeal and dashed off. The second sighting was another wild pig wallowing in the mud in a depression near the fence line. Pretty much the same reaction when it caught wind of me. No time to get the camera out before it was gone.
Coming out of Orlando Wetlands Park there is an exceptionally nice rest spot at the game check station on Wheeler Road. A small shelter houses two picnic tables and the door and windows are completely enclosed with mesh so the mosquitoes won't bother you. You can get potable water from the faucet and sink at the game dressing table just a few yards from the enclosure. I took the opportunity to get a brief respite from the elements, while eating a late lunch and filling up on water.
For me, the walk along Christmas Road was like the Bataan Death March. Ten miles on wet tootsies, my feet aching excruciatingly. The last few miles it felt like I was hobbling on nubs that were throbbing twice as fast as my heart. At one point a guy stopped to offer me a ride, but I declined. Am I insane?! As soon as I reached Mills Creek Camp, I set up my tent in a bit of a drizzle, crawled inside, took of my shoes and socks and lay down. Soooooo happy to be off my feet. Simply exhausted.


Oak Branch among Palms
Tosohatchee Creek
Orlando Wetlands Park

Mills Creek Camp to Campsite near Firescar---March 5th

My feet were feeling so much better after the pain I had experienced during the latter half of the trek yesterday, so I was able to enjoy a nice walk this morning after visiting the best port-a-potty on the entire length of the Florida Trail. From what "Hammer" told me, the F.T. benefits from a lot of Eagle Scout projects and Mills Creek Camp was one. New benches, picnic table, fire ring and the lovely red commode.
Anyway, my early rise was rewarded with four wild turkey and three deer sightings. I almost felt miles away from suburbia even though I'm on the very outskirts of a major U.S. city. On a footpath through scrub, palm, fern and all manner of trees, I could hear vehicle noise as the day lengthened. Then, on Flagler Trail, a lovely dirt road shaded by overarching palm fronds and branches, joggers, cyclists and walkers suddenly appeared.
The trail led to the Econ River, its water the color of black tea with bars of bleached-white sand. Some stagnant branches were like split pea soup, covered with duck weed and other water plants. Lovely views were had from the banks above. Again "deep" in the primitive woodland, there were many crossings on wooden planks and small bridges.
Near a trailhead, I dropped my pack and hid it in the brush under some palm fronds. Without my load, I continued to Lockwood Boulevard, where a half mile south all the conveniences of the modern world await. My first task was to contact my family since it has been nearly three weeks without word from me. I bought a phone card at the 7/11 on the corner and went to the pay phone. After a few rings, my nephew Caleb answered. It was nice to hear a voice from home and know that now they won't have to worry. Next, a run for the border at Taco Bell, where I sat and ate, sucking on soda until I felt my belly would pop. Then, over to the grocery store to get enough food to last me to the other side of Orlando. Finally, the return trip to retrieve my pack and set up a nice camp under the trees on a flat place near the river down from the trail.
I'm glad the weather held all day. It was sketchy at noon, but there was a sunny finish to a fairly easy day. My feet are still in recovery and the skin sloughing from my left pinky toe requires attention because it's going to be a long day tomorrow as I try to make it through Orlando.


Outskirts of Orlando
Bridge over the Econ

Campsite near Firescar to Wekiva Shelter---March 6th

Up and on the trail before sunrise, but travelling in the dim pre-dawn light was fairly easy since I had been this way before. Crossed Lockwood Boulevard again a short time later was in the community of Oveido, where I saw some crowing roosters walking in the streets. The data book mentions these famous feathered fowls, though I don't know the story behind them. "Who do they belong to?", I wondered. "How do they survive on the streets and avoid being hit by cars? How did they get here to begin with? Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" Ha. Whatever the answers, it's clear that these are not your run of the mill cock-a -doodle-dooers.
A majority of the day was spent following the Cross Seminole Bike Path, which runs from the southeast to the northwest through the suburbs of Orlando, crossing several creeks en route. Much nicer dealing with squirrels, cyclists, joggers and people out walking their dogs than speeding automobiles.
Plenty of benches are located along the path, so if you feel tired you can sit down, relax and perhaps do some people watching. Drinking fountains can also be found, especially when you pass by any parks. Convenience stores are easily accessible if you want to drop in and grab a snack. Two big Publix supermarkets near the northern end of the trail can be used for resupply before you leave the city.
At Big Tree Park I took a small detour in order to see The General, an impressive 3,500 year old cypress, one of the biggest of its kind in the United States. Its sister tree, the 2,000 year old Lady Liberty stands a mere 30 meters away. The area used to be in the middle of a vast swamp, but now you need only take a short jaunt down a boardwalk to gaze upon these glorious, colossal trees.
Two big bridges allow people to safely avoid the traffic on the U.S. 17-92 and the I-4. Built to accommodate the recreational users of the bicycle path, its much preferred to the alternate means of crossing--- playing a live Florida Trail version of thru-hiker Frogger! Before leaving the Orlando area entirely, I passed through the outlying towns of Heathrow and Lake Mary, where I saw adults and children out playing baseball and soccer. It did my heart good to see so many getting in some activity through friendly competition. A great way to spend a Saturday afternoon.
From the last of the road walk, it was more or less a mile to the Wekiva Shelter. The trek across Orlando was far better than I had expected. At the fee station, I had to pay $12 to camp (newly instituted in December 2010), but I reckon with all the cuts in government spending, state parks can use all the money they can get their hands on. Got my water out of the horse trough. Passed through the gravity filter, it tasted much better than some of the well water I'd had recently. Even though it was the first shelter on the trail, I elected to spend the night in the tent to keep the tiny six-legged vampires at bay. Longest day so far and the poor dawgs are feeling it. Red and Swollen. Nighttime do your wonders!


Big Tree Info
The General
Lady Liberty
Duck Pond
Sandhill Cranes

Wekiva Shelter to Clearwater Lake---March 7th

A starlit sky gave way to a steel-gray dawn, remaining overcast until noon. It was the coolest morning of the trek, so cold in fact that for the first time I used glove liners to keep my hands warm. It is winter after all, something easily forgotten when hiking in the Sunshine State.
I started in scrub and small pine, but reached some fire-scarred areas rather quickly. However, once on the forest road leading over Black Water Creek, the palms and other trees had closed in around me. No doubt the creek is appropriately named as its still waters look almost like oil.
Sharktooth Camp, situated in a clearing, was a fine spot for a mid-morning break. After downing a few peanut butter granola bars, I took a short side trail to check out Shark Tooth Springs which turned out to be a clear steady flow coming from the base of an elevated patch of ground. Although it formed a small creek, I didn't drink from it due to the distinct smell of sulphur emanating from its surface.
The nice cool walk in Seminole State Forest was interrupted at Cassia Trail Head by guess what---another road walk. It wasn't bad, but I've had too many of them already. When cars, motorcycles and eighteen-wheelers are roaring past you, you begin to ask yourself, "What's the point?!" I can walk along a road near my home. At least it would have a sidewalk. Let's face it, road walks are no fun. Yes, I can usually walk faster and cover more ground than on the average trail, but that's because I'm usually trying to bust past them and return to the footpath. A road walk is tougher physically because it really wears on your feet. It's also tougher mentally because you lose your motivation, sucking in fumes instead of fresh air. Oh well, now I've vented and I feel better for it.
Lunch was in the shadow of some tall pines near a dried out pond on Maggie Jones Road. Just off Boy Scout Road there's a pretty place the Boy Scouts of America have for their Jamboree. Plenty of oak trees and leaf-lined paths for hiking as well as a huge grassy area for tenting. My afternoon break was at a picnic table beneath the overarching branches of those oaks.
I made really good time today, finishing at Clearwater Lake by mid-afternoon. Much of that can be attributed to the road walking. At $18.50 a night I'm not likely to use these type of camps often. I suppose I was spoiled by the Pacific Crest Trail where the most I paid for a camp was $5 and that was the backpackers camp at Tuolomne Meadows in Yosemite, one of our nation's premier national parks. Anyway, took a refreshing shower, "washed" my clothes in the sink and shaved three weeks of growth off my face. Satisfied and semi-clean, I had enough time on my hands to polish off the second book of the journey, The Last of the Mohicans.


Black Water Creek
The Morning Trail
Bearded
Clean-Shaven