Florida Trail: Eastern Continental Trail Southern Glades Trail Day 15
January 21, 2022
Mile: 61.2 to 83.5 (22.3 miles)
Start: TownePlace Suites Kendall, FL (via Buffalo Tiger’s Airboat Tours)
Finish: Tenting behind camp host’s RV at Midway Campground, Big Cypress National Preserve
I woke at 6am and read a bit before heading downstairs to grab hotel breakfast, living it up one last time in the air conditioning before 190 miles of trekking through knee deep swamp water with zero showers or laundry until a wee little campground on the southern shores of Lake Okeechobee. Shannon has always been more of a night person whereas I’m definitely an early riser. It’s sometimes challenging to be patient waiting for him to wake up so we can start our day but I’ve got some good books on my phone to read and caught up on news and of course the latest memes to pass the time. #Memelord! Today was no different as I was eager to get going since we had planned on a 23-mile-long day of hiking plus tried to fit in an airboat tour in the morning since Shannon had never been on one. I was too restless to stay in one spot so I put on my super fashionable crocs, my “nice clothes” (aka marginally dusty tights and only slightly smelly long sleeve shirt) and headed down to breakfast while Shannon slept.
Soon enough with sleepy eyes Shannon came stumbling downstairs and we chowed down on a breakfast of omelettes, sausage patties, oatmeal and bananas with peanut butter. Shortly after we’d packed up, checked out, called a Lyft and headed out to Buffalo Tiger’s Airboat Tours which was a Miccosukee tribal run airboat tour ride next to the Everglades. We were trying to aim for the 10 AM boat but when we arrived 30 minutes out in the sticks, it was a few minutes too late to join the tour. Fabian Redwing, a Miccosukee tribal member, came to our rescue and suggested that he could give us a tour of the wetlands if we waited a bit for anybody else to show up. After 10 minutes of hanging at the docks counting the snakelike bowfin fish sinewing their way through the tannic water and resident alligator, he told us we should start what normally would be a very expensive private airboat tour at the price of a public tour which was awesome. We left our backpacks inside the airboat tour office upon Fabian’s insistence and excitedly grabbed some headphones for hearing protection.
Fabian was really cool and he showed us one of the resident lady alligators who lived near the airboat docks. Alligators are naturally very curious animals and to attract the she-gator closer, Fabian made baby gator sounds like something you’d hear out of Jurassic Park movies as the velociraptors were hunting Newman or other bad guys. The 6-foot-long gator perked up at the clicking sounds and started swimming towards us, her profile low in the clear blackwater and her black eyes never leaving our faces. Apparently gators also have tiny brains and don’t think about deep stuff like critically thinking or problem solving – their thoughts mostly instinctual and reactionary. Large snakelike bowfin and sharp-toothed gar swam below the alligator as we dodged her and jumped in the airboat.
With our ear protection on and our cameras grasped tightly in hand, Fabian backed out the airboat and we tore off through the sparkling glades in the mid morning light. The rainstorms of yesterday had washed the skies clean of angry gray and replaced them with bright indigo skies and creamy streaks of pearlescent clouds. The deafening thrum of the giant aluminum fan on the back of the boat propelled us over the calm dark water, the shallow draft of the hull skipping easily over the spring green lily pads and golden sawgrass islands. We took the boat up close and personal with a pair of shiny purple, deep navy and shimmering emerald feathered swamp chickens. Their spindly bright crayola yellow legs made them look like a weird winged bird drawn by a kindergartner come to life. As it hunts, the purple Gallinule carefully balances itself on the sawgrass and reeds so as to not disturb the water’s surface and attract alligators. Like sharks, alligators are very much attracted to splashing and the scent of blood in the water which the swamp chickens have evolved to understand. The pair of Gallinules we were watching had a little nest in the reeds that they were watching over, both the mama and dad protecting the cheeping fledglings inside. Fabian knew all the sounds to attract the birds closer to the boat which was really neat having grown up living in the wide open sawgrass prairies of the Miccosukee Res and the Everglades. The purple birds carefully picked their way over to Fabian, eyeing him curiously as they repeated the clucks and coos back to him.
Fabian told us about swamp buggies which are these giant jacked up monster trucks that can travel through the swamp water. We had seen tons of swamp buggy tracks in the prairies yesterday as we crossed the Reservation and they’re used by locals to bring whole families out in the truck as kind of a mobile hunting stand, giving you a vantage point over the swamp to hunt deer or gator to feed your family. It seemed pretty cool!
I asked Fabian about the giant invasive Burmese pythons that thrive out here in the Everglades and if he’s seen them. These snakes devour all of the local animals, growing to lengths of over 20 feet and weighing several hundred pounds. Floridians can make a lot of money hunting the Burmese python which has eaten an estimated 98% of the small mammals that used to live in the Everglades according to a USGS survey. They were introduced by accident when big hurricanes came through flattening houses and breeding centers where people had them as pets. Wildlife officials also think that people have released them into the wild when the animals grow too large and unwieldy. With no natural predators, the pythons have eaten pretty much everything they can get their gaping jaws on – raccoons, opossums, deer, coyotes, pets and even alligators. It’s crazy but Fabian said that in the past 5 or 6 years that they haven’t really seen as many of the pythons as they did in the past because the state-sponsored hunting bounties have done really well. Unfortunately the invasive Burmese pythons are still out there reproducing like crazy. But when you can make over $350 per snake and the local wildlife is disappearing, the hunting will continue.
The airboat went deeper into the Everglades and we found a couple of large gators basking in the sunshine. Fabian jumped carefully out of the boat, showing us the anatomy of one of the gator’s mouths. He waved a long piece of grass that tickled the she-gator’s tongue demonstrating how quick their reflexes are to shut their jaws if something touches their tooth or their tongue. It’s crazy how her jaws snapped faster than the blink of an eye and with thousands of pounds of force coming down on every square inch of those reptilian jaws. You really do not want to have your hand there. Alligators were pretty neat and we learned so much about them with Fabian Redwing. One of the gators even tried to be sneaky and slithered up slowly to the edge of the boat where I was standing but we watched her antics.
Fabian also took us to an island called Tear Island where his ancestors used to live. Today traditional chickee huts still stood on the island for the Miccosukee tribe to remember where they came from and to teach younger generations about how the tribe used to live. The stilted huts had two levels for when the summer rains flooded the swamp and thatched roofs made from cabbage palm fronds interlaced so tightly that even the strongest of storms couldn’t leak through. Fabian showed us where you would have your cooking hut and gathering hut separately from the sleeping huts. At night you would sleep on raised platforms so that the snakes, raccoons and other creepy crawlies would leave you alone.
There were tall stalks of smooth green wild sugarcane growing in a thick stand by the chickee huts and it had been some time since I’ve had some down in the Dominican Republic and Shannon had never tasted it before. Fabian cut off a piece of the smooth cane and shaved off the tough outer sheath.The sugarcane was fibrous on the inside, the inner white pulp resembles a heart of palm or yucca potato type thing. As you chomped down on the cane, an immense amount of sugar poured out as sweet juice in your mouth and he chewed on it until the sugar left and then you spit out the remaining fiber strings. I only got one bite of the sweet chunk of sugarcane before it was devoured because Shannon’s apparently got a bit of a sweet tooth!
We returned back to shore and thanked Fabian Redwing for the airboat tour. It was truly an amazing experience and we learned so much. He thanked us for being respectful and told us a little bit about living on the Miccosukee Reservation. His wife Catie sounded super fun and we bonded over having the same name. We learned that the casino down the street on Res land has a fund where so much of the profits go back to the tribe for cultural preservation, education and supporting the elders who are too old to work. They do well enough where if as an adult tribal member that you didn’t want to work, you didn’t have to. Fabian admitted he really likes educating adults and children about the swampland and sharing where he grew up with them that he’ll work here for a while to make sure the next generation knows about where they came from and for visitors to realize how important it is to preserve land like this.
Out of the fridge Fabian pulled out 2 cold waters to go which was super nice of him and some much appreciated Trail Magic. He told us all about Buffalo Tiger who was one of the tribal chiefs from the 1950s to 1970s who united the Miccosukee Indians and gained federal recognition from the United States government which up until this point looked the other way which caused the tribe great cultural and economic hardships. In the 1950s the US government proposed terminating the Miccosukee as a tribe which meant they would see a reduction in benefits and weren’t acknowledged as a sovereign nation in the government’s eyes. Basically, the US government wanted the tribe out and did what it could to let the Miccosukee culture and people die. It was absolutely horrible. Enter our hero, William Buffalo Tiger.
Buffalo Tiger had been born in a chickee hut, growing up surrounded by tribal customs, language and culture with his people living in relative isolation in the Everglades from the rest of the “modern world.” What was key to Buffalo Tiger’s upbringing was that he eventually learned English as a house painter when he was a teen and as the new Tamiami Trail highway was built through the swamp, he used his knowledge of Mikosuki and English languages to represent the tribe in dealings with the encroaching modern world. Buffalo Tiger’s energy and outspokenness made him a critical advocate for his tribe, and was eventually nominated as Chief. As a Tribal leader assessing the threat of the encroachment of modern day life and the lack of support from the US government, he took action to unite his tribe and protect them. Buffalo Tiger requested formal recognition of the Miccosukee Nation from several countries including the United States. However, only Fidel Castro of Cuba responded formally recognizing the tribe. Buffalo Tiger met with the new Premier of Cuba’s revolutionary government, forging strong relations which likely helped him gain political leverage in the United States since Cuban-US relations were strained due to ongoing events (ex: Cuban Missile Crisis, Bay of Pigs, Cold War, etc). Buffalo Tiger also became friends with the King of Spain, Juan Carlos, and sent him a pair of Florida alligators as a gift.
In addition to kings and premiers, the new Chief also teamed up with a group of stellar lawyers who helped propel the Miccosukee Tribe through a series of state and federal reforms that not only benefited the tribe and environment around them, but helped them obtain access, hunting and fishing rights to over 200,000 acres of their ancestral land which had been stolen by European Americans. The lawyers helped the Miccosukee win concessions to set up a tribal casino whose tax-free profits now provide financial support for tribal programs, the Miccosukee families and especially the elders who are too old to work.
Buffalo Tiger eventually met former President Richard Nixon whose government acknowledged the tribe as a sovereign nation. A huge step that Buffalo Tiger accomplished was taking control of operations of the Miccosukee Tribe from Bureau of Indian Affairs agency bureaucrats and putting it back in the hands of the tribe. It was amazing to hear about Buffalo Tiger and do a little more research on his enormous impact on the Miccosukee Tribe. Buffalo Tiger did so much for the tribe, helping them interface with the US and Florida governments in order to reclaim their lands and provide the tribe with certain protections that they needed to preserve their culture and face the modern world.
Today was probably one of the stickiest and warmest days on the whole trail so far and we were already sweating like little piggies with backpacks. It didn’t help that we were walking on thick, partially mowed grass that could easily hide snakes and creepy crawlies. There was no real trail as we trudged next to the alligator-filled canal on one side and on the other we were only a stone’s throw from the busy highway.
On the canal side we passed by an enormous 15 pound turtle that had fresh bite marks down the half of it in the U-shape of a gator’s snout. As we closed in to inspect the turtle shell, a deep angry grunting emanated from the black water that made us do a triple take and jump back. We frantically looked around for the cause of the sound which was probably a big alligator that had just chomped its kill and was warning us to stay away. Fabian had told us that only the really large alligators have the strength to bite down and break a thick turtle shell. Looking at the size of the bite marks on the gator, it was clear that whatever had sliced the animal in half inside was absolutely enormous and we didn’t want any part in that. The dark red meat inside the turtle shell was so fresh that there were hardly any flies on it which, combined with the primordial reptile rumblings as we neared the kill, meant that the gator was lurking not far off watching us. Plus if the gator could bite through the rock hard turtle shell, it could easily chomp our soft little hiker arms off. Is it weird that the freshly chomped turtle meat looked delicious? We quickened our pace, leaving thoughts of turtle soup behind and not wanting to also get chomped by a massive alligator.
Hurriedly we quickened our pace away from the big boy gator and hiked up the canal a little close to the road to put some distance between ourselves and the gators. Traffic on the highway paused for a moment and all of a sudden more grunting echoed from a thick tangle of brush and reeds on the other side of the road. The baritone grunting and growling rumbled deeply and Shannon decided to run across the highway to take a peek at what sounded like an angry massive gator in the bushes. There was nothing to be seen thankfully as the gator was far into the swamp but I just shook my head and thought about what it would be like to finish the Florida Trail by myself which was shaping up to be a strong possibility as Shannon leaned closer into the ditch. Luckily it didn’t come to the giant alligator luring Shannon into the swamp since we had many miles to hike yet and I managed to get Shannon away from the big bull gator’s siren call with promises of food up ahead.
We stopped at my trail namesake “Voodoo Grill” down the road for a quick bite to eat which was decent but it was mainly just nice to get out of the searing sun and to have somewhere to sit for a little bit under the shade of a thatched chickee hut. We chowed down on burgers and wings, catching up on our electrolytes while talking to a sweet couple who were pushing the remote working as far as they could. They’d travelled down from cold New Jersey to Florida for a few weeks where they’d been interchanging work and play. They were both avid birders and photographers and apparently coming down here in winter is prime time for birding. We told him how Shannon saw a Roseate Spoonbill which is a bright pink bird that looks just like a flamingo. They’re supposedly pretty rare to see I guess. We also found out from our hiking friend Twig that contrary to popular belief flamingoes don’t actually live in Florida. Occasionally one will blow up from the Caribbean during a hurricane or storm. The couple said that they were big birding rumors of a flamingo that had been recently in the Florida Keys and they were going to try to find it. We wished them luck and afterwards wondered if they were anything like the bird fanatics in the hilarious movie “The Big Year” with Jack Black, Owen Wilson and Steve Martin.
As we were leaving the Voodoo Grill, one of the energetic airboat guides came up to us trying to talk into a tour. We told him that we’d just gone somewhere else but were just stopping for a bite to eat. He asked us where we were hiking to and shared a little secret that our end destination of Midway Campground would let you camp for free if you showed up after 6pm which was great news! It was $30 to camp there normally and if we could save a couple bucks. We thanked him for the info and headed out down the trail and into the humidity.
Our other options on this section of trail for camping were not so promising. We were headed through Big Cypress Swamp where it felt not so promising of finding a dry spot with the recent rains and the fact that it was a swamp. We also didn’t want to get woken up by hillbillies by camping next to a busy trail or at the back of a parking lot or getting shot by accidentally trespassing. As we hiked down the canal, our heads were kind of melting in the hot sun and shallow water pooling from yesterday’s deluge reflecting back into our faces. The tangled bushes, dense sawgrass prairies and thick brush emitted so much humidity and held onto the heat, that it felt like we were being steamed alive like little DEET-and-sunscreen-marinated dumplings.
The trail was a little nerve wracking with the busy highway traffic on our left, the dense calf-high grass potentially hiding venomous snakes in front of us and the low canal banks where basking alligators lay to the right. I was most concerned about the large reptiles on the water’s edge where they could easily crest the canal banks if they so desired. Did you know alligators can move up to 35mph on land? I learned that today and Mr. Usain Bolt, the fastest human to ever live, can run something like 28 mph. The odds were not in our favor if the alligators were hungry enough.
The afternoon was harrowing and just a little stressful as the canal greenways slowly disappeared and we spilled out onto barely non-existent road shoulders on the highway. When the trail crossed over canal bridges the greenway stopped so we had to wait for the traffic to break before running across the highway to get to the other side of the bridge. It was so hot around the early afternoon that we just had to take a break in the shade because our cheeks were reddening and our thirst felt unquenchable. There had been no shade or relief from the sun so we felt as though we were hiking business to business in order to get a break from the heat. Yes, we’d hiked in 110F heat in the Mojave Desert on the Pacific Crest Trail but that was a dry heat where your sweat would evaporate. Here in the south Florida swamps, the sweat collected and amplified on our skin. You were unable to cool off since there was no breeze and the ambient moisture level was so high that your sweat just pooled into your clothing, eventually dripping off uncomfortably. Basically we were baking.
Luckily the Miccosukee General Store knew what was up and had built an outdoor chickee hut with a fan and light in it as well as charging plugs next to 4 picnic tables. It was a true oasis in the swamp. We topped off on water from the bathroom sink and purchased some drinks and gummies to eat while we were sorting through our plans of where we’d be hiking to tonight.
We sat down, plugged in our electronics and drank our drinks to replenish our depleted electrolytes. We’re sweating so much that water alone wasn’t enough today. Inside the General Store you were required to wear a mask and the Tribal Police weren’t messing around with mask enforcement. Fabian told us that the Miccosukee tribe had been absolutely devastated by Covid and with each of the elders that passed from the pandemic, part of the Miccosukee culture and stories died with them. It was extra important that the tribe protected themselves and that visitors helped protect them as well.
After about 45 minutes or an hour of resting in the shade, we summoned up the courage to get going even though I really didn’t want to go back into the thick afternoon heat. It was more trudging along mowed grass next to the alligator infested canals and we had to pee so badly but there was nowhere to pee that wasn’t in plain sight of the highway traffic. You couldn’t go by the canal edges because there were massive gators that would take you down, and you couldn’t hide behind anything like a tree or structure because there was nothing to hide behind. We finally came to a boat launch next to an old rundown airboat guide where there were some bushes there that other people peed in before. It was gross but we were literally gonna pee our pants so we just needed to suck it up.
Much relieved, we soon came to an intersection where you could go west to Loop Road through a very interesting part of Florida where our navigation app said not to engage with the locals or cross onto their property since it had a history of being a lawless community. The nearest law enforcement was at least an hour’s drive to the nearest sheriff down in Key Largo and with it being so remote, the place was known as being a hideout for certain individuals running from the law. Infamous gangster Al Capone supposedly even stayed down here when he was on the lam and the warnings in our navigation app told hikers to quickly walk through the place and don’t walk up to or talk to anybody unless they talk to you first. That we could deal with but after the lawless community was a 7-mile-long stretch of swamp trail that hadn’t been maintained in over 3 years had become severely overgrown. Other hikers ahead of us had said that the trail was so bad for 7 miles that you were forced to not only crawl on your hands and knees for miles but also had to swim through parts of it with your backpack on. To us it sounded like maybe it would be fun, maybe it won’t but with yesterday’s 2.6 inches of rain, we did not want to risk having to swim with heavy packs and potentially drowning with increased water levels. Like several hikers ahead of us, we decided to opt for the alternate road walk especially after talking to local hiker Twig who had said the several very fit individuals belonging to the Florida Trail Association had hiked it last week and it had taken them the entire day to go 7 miles. Other hikers in the navigation app said similar things about the terrible condition of the swamp trail and so we decided to take the alternate road walk on busy US Highway 41.
Highway 41 was a bit like the craziness of the 7 Mile Bridge in the Florida Keys and there was tons of traffic, not much shoulder to walk on and nowhere to camp or go to the bathroom. The sign for the entrance of Big Cypress Swamp appeared and instantly we knew we were in the thick of things. Tall cypress trees with their silvery buttress roots rose like imposing columns from the dark black water. Pointed arrow leafs of pickerelweed and dinner plate sized lily pads with their golden blossoms choked every waterway. Squawking blue herons, ivory storks and orange curve-beaked ibis alighted in the air as we walked.
The beauty of Big Cypress surprised us, even as rows of tractor trailers, trucks and speeding cars sped past us on the highway so closely that we could touch the vehicles if we stretched out our arms. What we weren’t surprised about was how many alligators we spotted. In every single ditch or underneath every bridge it seemed like there was at least one gator and there were a lot of ditches on this road. Every bridge we walked over you could peer down into the still blackwater and pick out at least one gator. What was pretty scary was seeing so many baby alligators which meant that protective mama gators weren’t far off. Mom gators hatch their eggs in late summer and are one of the few reptiles who take care of their babies after they hatch for up to a year. These mamas are fierce and it was kind of terrifying seeing the babies and then almost all the sudden the mama swims up to us from out of nowhere all 6 or 8 or 10 feet of her. The mamas tended to not like our presence and a couple even hissed at us so we kept going before they decided to launch their bodies out of the water and onto the banks right where we were walking.
It was never a dull moment as we were surrounded by loud splashes of the gators diving in and out of the water on either side of the road. Herons and storks and all sorts of water birds flew from tree to tree, noisily croaking and scaring us during the day and even after sunset. They were beautiful though and as a golden light of sun started to set, the rays illuminated their feathers and turned their plumage orange and golden peach in the dying light.
We knew that if we hike to Midway Campground we would probably be out on the road until 8pm or later but we bit the bullet and hiked on, more nervous to accidentally trespass in this lawless area than of being hit by a car. Plus with having been actually shot at a couple days ago, we were trying to not repeat that scenario again. Traffic had finally died down and we threw on our headlamps, walking through the middle of Big Cypress Swamp in the pitch dark. It was a little scary at first, especially when around sunset 2 big pitbulls came running out of someone’s house barking at us. One flanked us and the other tried to sneak behind me where I crossed my poles protecting my legs with an X shape having the pointy metal parts facing out at the dog. We avoided eye contact with the pitbulls, talking to them in low voices and repeating “Good doggy,” over and over while side-eyeing them carefully to make sure they kept their distance. The one behind me quickly learned to keep away when I jabbed at it with my sharp hiking pole. As traffic came barreling down the road, the dogs retreated back to their yard, still barking a little but their tails wagging and occasionally fake sneezing which is canine language for dogs to let humans know they’re playing. Shannon and I were eager to get the heck out of there and luckily the busy cars thwarted the dogs from lunging at us again.
Luckily at night it seemed that most people brought the dogs inside so they didn’t get eaten by alligators or panthers and we didn’t have any problems after the pitbulls. We watched out for gators but they mostly stuck to the water feeling somewhat sluggish according to Fabian because of the cooler temperatures of yesterday’s rain. Apparently alligators really don’t like rain but they need water to survive so go figure.
The cypress swamp blossomed after dark with green gold fireflies alighting the branches of the cypress trees, dancing amongst the air plants and bromeliads that decorated the leafless limbs like Christmas ornaments. It was truly magical seeing the fireflies glow against the depths of the swamp and the silver white bark of the cypress contrasting like unlit candles against the inkiness of the dark water and the navy blue of the sky. Heat lightning flashed in the distance causing the tall storm clouds to glow silently from their core. The stars sprinkled across the deep lapis sky as the silent storms moved east. The wings of departing airplanes leaving Miami International Airport shimmered in greens and reds and their bright phosphorus white navigation beams fanned out from the cockpit in the clearing skies. It was truly magical.
I strangely felt at peace walking through the alligator infested swamps despite the very real possibility of venomous snakes lurking in the grass and oncoming traffic whizzing past us. With the glow of the lightning bugs, heat lightning and stars we guided ourselves through the dark world stepping to the grass on the roadside watching for snakes underfoot as traffic roared past us. Barred owls cooed their signature “Who cooks for you?” and Great Horned owls hooted softly in the distant trees. We hiked past a few Indian villages and an old airport, finally arriving at Midway Campground around 8:30 after chugging down a couple ibuprofen and chomping down on some granola bars to get us through the last few miles.
In the dark, we asked a confused couple by the bathroom where the check-in office was. They were definitely a little confused at being asked stupid questions in the middle of a swamp but they told us where the camp host was which was really nice. On the sign posted at the camp host’s RV, it said to call a certain number or go on recreation.gov to reserve a campsite. When I looked in the morning there were still 2 sites left for tonight but we weren’t sure if we were going to make it the 23 miles so we didn’t book the site. Now there was absolutely no cell service in the swamp so we couldn’t get on the Internet and definitely couldn’t even make a call.
We knocked on the door of the camp host’s RV trailer apologizing profusely for our lateness and for bothering him. Larry was dressed in ranger attire and was kind enough to let us camp in the backyard of his RV lot. He let us stay for free since it was so late and there were no other spots available. We thanked him and he pointed to the bathroom where you could brush your teeth and offered to let us fill up with potable water from his hose. He even let us store his food in the back of his truck so the raccoons wouldn’t be able to get at it. We started unpacking our tent and set it up on the tightly clipped crabgrass. It was nice to just have a spot to camp after such a long slog in the hot sun along canals and the road. Larry went inside after giving each of us a water bottle and we said good night to him, thanking him again for his hospitality.
We went to the bathroom, brushing our teeth after insisting that we both were so tired that we were barely hungry. We kept telling each other that we weren’t that hungry, and then would find one of us face deep into snacks or Spam packets. It was hilarious. Shannon put our food and smelly items like soap in the truck and then I limped back into the bathroom to spend some extra time cleaning up these horrendous blisters I had on the backs of my heels and toe pads. One of them had blood in it which was delightful and I was just glad it was late enough that most people were sleeping and I could have the bathroom all to myself. I soaked down my feet with soapy water, sanitized my sewing needle, popped about 6 or 7 blisters, dried them out with hand sanitizer and then applied some antibacterial cream on them for good measure. Hopefully they dry out but this next section of trail they say your feet will never dry so we’ll see about that.
After about 30 minutes I returned back to the tent and immediately went to bed, grateful for Larry’s kindness and glad that we had made it to the campground without being hit by a car or getting eaten by alligators. I think we’ll start to plan a little bit better about what time we leave and where we’re going to go because it doesn’t seem like this is one of the trails where you can just completely wing it like the Appalachian Trail. I don’t want to be militant about our mileage and wake up times like other hikers we’ve met because that’s more like a job than an adventure. However, not planning on the Florida Trail doesn’t seem to be something you can safely afford to do.