After a few beach days with an angry ocean with rip tides and dark colored water, we decided to visit again the beautiful Myakka River State Park, one of Florida’s oldest and most diverse, wonderfully preserved wilderness areas.
Myakka River
flows through 58 square miles of prairies, wetlands, hammocks, and pinelands. Hammocks
are usually hardwood trees that grow on elevated areas, a few inches higher
than the wetlands. Sometimes they grow on slopes between wetlands, mixed with
conifer trees.
Myakka River
and two shallow lakes attract a rich population of birds, alligators, small
deer, and a rich flora. It is a perfect place for bird watching, hiking, gator
watching, biking, kayaking, and canoeing. The camping areas are tucked in the
safer zones of the park.
The forests
appear impenetrable at times but the scenic and meandering 7-mile drive along
the Upper Myakka Lake is perfect for those who are afraid of actually venturing
through the dense brush with low-lying ground. I was surprised that bicycles were
allowed both on paved roads and on dirt roads.
There are
over 39 miles of hiking trails and dirt roads leading to the very remote interior.
The 1.2-mile loop Boylston Nature Trail and the River Trail north of the main
park bridge are potential hiking options. Dry prairies seem to flourish in the
park and a couple of small Florida deer met us in such an area.
Hurricane Ian
had caused severe damage to the park and to its infrastructure and it has
not yet completely recovered. Camping is available but not all areas can be accessed
for now.
Rentals, the
Outpost, and the Lazy Gator Café were available on this day. While close to the
boat launch, I saw a gator floating closely to the asphalt, watching me, then diving
quickly. He was definitely stalking me.
By the main
bridge, an older gator was resting on the bank at the foot of the bridge, about
12 feet from the sign that read, Beware of Alligators. Of course, my husband had
to have his picture taken by the sign, knowing that the enormous gator was
resting too close for his comfort. He seems to forget that gators can run much
faster than humans. Lucky for him, the gator was not hungry.
To access
the Wilderness Preserve one must have a permit. The Canopy Walkway and the
Nature Trail were open. Evidence of uprooted large trees was everywhere. One
side of the wooden tower built by volunteers is 24 feet tall, while the other
tower is 76.1 feet, with a breathtaking view of the entire park as far as the
eyes can see. The suspended walkway between the two towers is rocking – it was
built so on purpose, to sway with the wind.
I looked forward to the Bird Walk until I realized that the wet terrain was lower than the parking lot but at the same level with the lake water, which was full of gators, eight of which were on a feeding prowl. We walked to the four steps which gave us access to the wooden bridge called the Bird Walk. We did not see many birds from this bridge, but we certainly saw plenty of gators of various sizes, something I have never seen in the wild before. On the way back to the car, I believe I walked the fastest I could across the muddy terrain at the same level with the gator-infested Upper Lake.
To my
surprise, three crows landed on the wooden bridge railing, and one decided to be
stupidly brave, standing on the sea grass floating on the lake. A gator was gliding
fast towards her. A blue heron braved the shallows, further away from the deep
water, hopefully safe from the gators. I took her picture quickly and walked
fast through the exposed land to the car. At 11 MPH, with some gators sprinting
30 MPH on short distances on land, nobody can possibly think that humans can
outrun gators, but the adrenaline rush gave me a renewed desire for speed. A
human could zigzag and outrun an alligator for a longer stretch on land. Gators
prefer to attack on the edge of the water and drag their prey to the bottom
where the death roll ensues.
We left the
park and drove back to the beach where the ocean was furiously pounding the shore and
the surf created fantastic shapes in white foam which disintegrated on the
beach. The riptides were relentless, and the guard towers were still flying double-red flags.