Florida Trail: Day 23
January 28, 2022
Mile: 126.8 to 145.0 (18.2 miles)
Start: Wild camping on the shores of Lake Okeechobee
Finish: Best Western, Okeechobee, FL
The wind picked up all night and by 3am the gusts were so strong that the tent stakes were being ripped out of the ground one by one. My head was being picked up by the wind blowing underneath the corner of the tent and it seemed like it was only a matter of time until our entire shelter blew away with us in it. We had a bar or two of cell service and the weather forecast said we were in a gale warning with gusts blowing 60+mph. It was time to get the heck out of here because the blustering wind was so loud it felt like we were at the aft end of a jet engine.
We packed up as quickly as possible, putting on all of our warmest clothing topped by rain pants and jackets and wool hats. Atop the levee the wind whipped and howled, the gusts so fierce that we were stumbling as we tried to walk straight. If we just kept walking north, the trail would eventually curve around the edge of the lake and we’d be out of the brunt of the gale. For now the west wind tore across Lake Okeechobee unimpeded until it blasted us, threatening to rip anything not strapped down on our packs and send it to the depths of the alligator-filled canal. The night gale chilled us with its icy grasp and even through thermal layers, pants, jackets and hats we had to keep moving or we’d start shivering.
Around 4:30am we hit a canal lock where we crouched behind one of the cement buildings to eat a quick snack out of the worst of the gale. Shannon had been wearing his winter gloves but I hadn’t because, you know, it’s south Florida. It doesn’t get cold here, right?
Wrong. Absolutely wrong.
I was starting to show early signs of hypothermia with loss of fine motor skills. My hands could barely grasp the zipper of my rain jacket to add my winter puffy jacket underneath. Pulling on my gloves was necessary but so difficult as my brain told my body what to do to grasp the fabric but performing the action was nearly impossible. I cupped my hands together and blew hot air on them to thaw but it was going to take a lot more than that for them to warm up.
We trekked on, hands and core starting to thaw out imperceptibly. The wind was relentless and to take our minds off of it we played the “Guess What’s Watching Us?” game. Raccoons lumbered awkwardly with humped backs across the bike path. Amber glinted eyes of coyotes trailed down the banks of the canals and hid around stacks of rocks. Iridescent diamonds of wolf spiders and brown recluses sparkled from the grassy lawn. It was a fun game and kept the miles exciting as we’d spot eyes and try to figure out first what type of animal was staring back at us.
Around 5am the thick crescent moon glowed a creamy ivory with blackness of the dark side stark and crisp against the deep sapphire of the sky. The first vestiges of pale predawn light danced delicately on the horizon, the pearlescent haze at first a nearly mistakable sheen against the deep indigo that could’ve been anything – sleepiness in my eyes, a cloud, early morning mist rising from the leafy sugarcane fields. As the sunrise neared, the crepuscular pale pastels morphed into a white blinding light followed by a honey red colored fireball bursting out of the horizon in the same style of the opening scene of 1994’s The Lion King. All of this sounded very magical and awe inspiring and I’m sure it would’ve been nice to stick around to watch but we were borderline hypothermic in, of all places, sunny South Florida.
Yes there were palm trees whose leathery green umbrella leaves glowed and glittered with the sun’s radiance. Flocks of elegant ivory ibis alighted across the coral pink sky. A dusky brown 4-foot-long otter loped along the canal’s edge, her whiskered nose playfully searching for snacks and places to hide under. It was actually really cool because it was the first otter we’d seen on the whole trail! Unfortunately we couldn’t linger too long to hang out because the wind was still blowing gale force and if we stopped for too long we’d still be shivering despite wearing literally all of the clothes in our backpacks.
Sleepy eyed and fatigued we continued on purely walking forward propelled by adrenaline. The sun thawed us out slightly so we could feel our fingers for the first time in a few hours. Thankfully the miles disappeared and the straight line wind gusts lessened as we curved around the lake and headed to the town of Okeechobee.
The Florida Trail somehow cut through private property without any signs posted and we found ourselves trekking past abandoned tiny cabins on the canal. It was eerie with the broken windows and rundown wood paneling and we hiked quickly out of there. All of a sudden we hit a fence that had at least 8 locks and chains on it and we were stuck. The chain link and barbed wire stretched to the water and it looked like this place had been broken into so much before that there was literally no way out except through a small 3 foot gap in the gate. The longer we lingered here, the longer we risked getting caught for trespassing. The only problem was to cross into town were either trespass through a canal lock that was gated and had security guards and clearly posted “No Trespassing” or go through these random creepy Texas Chainsaw Massacre cabins. We threw our backpacks through the gap in the fence, crawled under the series of padlocks and snuck out. The only sign that we’d been there was the sand on our packs.
We hiked over the teeny tiny bridge spanning the canal where we had to shimmy onto the 6-inch-wide curb and think thin as cars came by. It was a half mile trek to the hilariously named Ding-a-ling Deli where we were hoping to have breakfast. When we opened the door to the restaurant and stepped inside, everything went silent. You could hear a pin drop. Every single person stopped what they were doing to stare at us two backpackers. They were not happy looks that we were getting and it was extremely uncomfortable.
“Oh shit…” I whispered to Shannon. Angry and suspicious looking locals stared up at us, the only sound in the cafe was the radio playing softly in the background as 30+ people stopped eating and watched us. One of three things could happen next: 1) we would get run out of the place by the locals (very likely), 2) we would find ourselves eating breakfast soon (not so likely) or 3) we could turn around and exit ourselves.
Luckily the brother of the restaurant owner saw us and smiled, asking us if we were okay to wait for a table. We smiled and nodded. People turned back towards their meals, whispering and occasionally sneaking furtive glances at us. It felt like we must have had the words “Damn Yankee” tattooed all over our faces or something because this was a very interesting take on southern hospitality. Soon a couple got up and offered their table to us. They were so sweet Cheryl and Charlie and lived down the road a couple miles. Back in the day, Cheryl had backpacked all over the world for a decade and her heart went out to travelers, especially other backpackers and hikers. They even offered us a place to stay in their backyard and asked us if we liked fishing as they’d take us bass fishing. It was so incredibly sweet and we took their number down in case the hotel we’d reserved fell through.
Breakfast turned out fine after we sat down and people stopped staring so much at us. Our waitress was very kind and on our way out, the owner stopped by to ask about the Florida Trail and how she could help hikers out by providing water and get her business listed in the FarOut navigation app and guidebook. We thanked her for breakfast and were picked up by the only Uber driver in town, Bryan, accidentally having woken him up by calling him asking if he could go on the Uber app.
At the hotel, Maria, the extremely hiker friendly manager, helped us check in early since we didn’t have a car or anywhere to go. We ran into Cashmere, Tick Tock and Cookie who had decided to hike the west side of Lake Okeechobee which was under construction and closed to hikers. They had only been able to see the lake in the past few miles after having to road walk on country roads and highways almost the entire time. Even though they had a full day and a half of hiking ahead of us back in Kendall, we were able to catch up to them even after having an extra rest day and an airboat tour through the swamp. Hike your own hike as the saying goes. I’m glad we’re hiking the way we and enjoying and exploring the area along the way instead of just walking.
Thankfully we were able to check in, shower and take a nap since we hadn’t had a good sleep and had started our hiking day at 3:30am. I’m not sure if 4 or 5 hours of sleep technically qualifies as a nap but we felt insanely better after. Dinner was a quick walk to the Publix grocery store where we talked to Tick Tock who was on his way back to the hotel. We grabbed fruit salad, veggie salad and some groceries from the store and headed back to the hotel where we sat back with a movie and caught up on non-dehydrated food. It was perfect!
