Feeling Victorious After Completing Another Section of my LASH Hike of the Florida Trail!

How to tell you about my three week  section hike on the Florida Trail without you crying, “Uncle?”  In long distance backpacking, 225 miles aren’t all that much, and I’ve certainly covered a lot more distance in past section hikes.  But I still feel like I saw and experienced so much that I want to share with you.

As you might have read in a previous post, my husband and I had left the trail this past January after just five days, due to the biting cold and poor weather forecasts.  It was the right call for me, since I just don’t do well camping in freezing temperatures, even with all the proper gear.  So now,  late April and early May, I was back!  I was ready to hit the trail, with the goal of finally reaching my planned destination for this section, after falling short of reaching my goals by days and weeks on my previous three section hikes.

After flying from Cincinnati to Jacksonville and getting near to the trail with a rental car,  a trail angel delivered me to the approximate spot where Bill and I had left the trail in January. 

At last!  I had really looked forward to this the past few months. After working on a trail crew in this region in November,  I knew that there could still be some downed trees blocking the trail in some sections.  In some cases, I simply found alternate routes briefly on nearby forest service roads.

There were parts of the trail that obviously haven’t been traversed much in recent months, due to overgrown bushes and tall grasses blocking or hiding the trail. 

But if I looked carefully, I could always find the way, looking for partially hidden mashed down grass or leaves on the intended trail, searching ahead or behind  me for an orange blaze, or letting the FarOut app help guide me.  

Plenty of trees blocked the trail, thanks to the three major hurricanes that had been through the past 18 months. I always figured out a way to get through, over, under or around the trees, but this sometimes involved strange contortions or  crawling on my hands and knees or belly.

There were many road walks during all three weeks,  including forest service roads, quiet country dirt roads, and two lane paved country roads (most often not overly trafficked). 

 

I always faced traffic with my bright orange cap on and an orange triangle on my backpack.  Sometimes I had a shoulder to walk on, but if not, I just stepped into the grass to give cars the full lane.  On hot days, my Six Moon Design reflective umbrella made things somewhat cooler for me.

One interesting aspect of a long stretch of road walks during my first week were the generous churches along the way that welcomed hikers to take breaks on their grounds,

get water and recharge phones via outdoor outlets. 

Some also allowed camping, with prior notice.  I happily took advantage of  snack and lunch breaks and camped twice.  Their generosity and trust was very much appreciated.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In this section hike, it seemed like I spent a whole lot of time walking by or through pine tree plantings, acre after acre.  I hadn’t realized that this state, more known for its palm trees, considered the lumber industry important.  Although it’s not one of the top states in the US to provide lumber, it still has a large impact on the state’s economy and provides 133,000 jobs.  I also read that for every one tree that is cut, five more are planted.  I enjoyed walking through the forests much of the time, especially when they were consider ti-ti (“tie-tie”) swamps, with low saw palmettos or other shrubs growing beneath mature pine trees nearly 100 feet tall. 

 

But at at some point, I was ready for a change of scenery.  I seldom listened to something on my phone for amusement, wanting to save its charge.  It’s easy for me to get lost in my thoughts, but that’s when I sometimes miss a turn in the trail.  When I find myself thinking, “Boy, they just don’t blaze this trail well.”  Well, that’s because it’s not the trail.  By backtracking some and checking the FarOut app, I finally come back to the orange blazes that guide me.

During the first half of this section, some of the other scenery provided was hiking on bluffs above several rivers, including the Suwannee, Aucilla, Wakulla, St. Marks, and Sopchoppy, if I’m getting those right. 

I had hoped to see more alligators, but this didn’t seem to be the weather they wanted for sunning themselves on the banks of the rivers. Don’t worry, I never was in any danger.  Every now and then, when approaching a river, I could hear the splash as an alligator probably hid from big scary me by retreating to the deep water.

I enjoyed two zero days and a couple of neros (nearly zeros, with low mileage) at a motel, an airbnb and one of the churches with a very nice screened in porch for the hikers.   I cleaned up as best I could depending on facilities available, washed my clothes by hand or in a machine and enjoyed some civilization and contact with others.  It really does refuel the hiker for the next few days. 

But I do have to note that I really do prefer hiking alone for the most part.  I never feel lonely and can take as many photos and take as many potty breaks as I like.  

Two  interesting modes of transportation that I was a passenger in was a boat ride across the St. Marks River to the small town of the same name.  Since the trail came to the river at a spot without a road beside it, I had to call the marina on the opposite bank for a quick ride across.  That was fun and different. 

Once in town, I visited the little grocery store, where a regular customer there offered a ride in his “side-by-side” UTV to my planned lodging, Shell Island Fish Camp,  2 miles out of town.  I got a quite a tour of the town with a breeze in my hair without exerting any effort.

The first of the three most notable areas that I passed through were the Aucilla Sinks. These sinks were basically small round lakes cut into rock.

 What happens is that acids in rain and dissolved plant materials slowly eat away at the limestone bedrock, creating sinkholes, caves, springs and disappearing rivers.  I was surprised occasionally to find that the good sized Aucilla River disappeared into a cave beneath the trail and soon appeared on the opposite side of me.  I sometimes wondered if I had made a mistake on the trail and was retracing my previous steps (entirely possible!).

The second very interesting area for me was the St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge.  Here, the trail works its way to estuaries along the Gulf of Mexico.  The swamp forests and pine forests gradually thin out and then no longer continue.  Instead are miles and miles of sea marsh grass.  I was now walking on levees, with water and grasses on both sides of me , and some palm trees occasionally alongside the levees.  I found it fascinating. 

The Gulf of Mexico as not so far away.  This area is called Big Bend, I believe because if you look very carefully, you can see where this panhandle of Florida curves south to the mainland of Florida.  My campsite was wonderful, right on the water, with a nice breeze (at first!), keeping the insects away.

The third, and most notable, section was Bradwell Bay, the most challenging hike I encountered other than Big Cypress in the Everglades, my very first few days on the trail in 2023.  It was a deep wade through tannic waters into an ancient swamp forest that took all day to traverse, at about 1 mile per hour. 

 

I had made sure that I had two double waterproof bags lining my backpack and protecting its belongings, and my phone was in a ziplock, tucked into the top of my sports bra, nice and high in case of a fall.  In the most challenging parts, I was slowly slogging through water sometimes up to my thighs, and mud equally deep!

 

The trickiest thing was that there were often fallen logs hidden underwater and the occasional deep hole you might step into, suddenly making the water waist deep for me.  I had to use my hiking poles with each step, carefully probing the bottom ahead of me to see if it was a safe place to step.  It was recommended that you use sturdy sticks instead of your hiking poles, which can be snapped in two, but I just went ahead with my poles.  I was lucky.  It’s also recommended that you go through with a partner if the water is deep, but I went ahead.  I really wanted to do this, to prove to myself I could do it.  And I knew I had my InReach emergency satellite device as a backup.  You can bet that I was doubly careful as I progressed!

And the trail kept on giving….water and deep mud!  Once I was through Bradwell Bay proper, the trail continued to have long stretches in which it was covered in ankle to thigh deep water. 

I was very, VERY, relieved when I arrived at my camp for the night!  The flooded trail wasn’t quite done with me yet, but I felt victorious that night in camp, having traversed both Big Cypress and Bradwell Bay solo.  Meeting big challenges like these is certainly a confidence builder.

There’s so much more I’d like to share, but you must be snoring by now.  What I simply can’t leave out are the wonderful people I met, from the trail angels so generous with their time as they helped me reach my goals,

the host of the lovely airbnb I stayed at that was right on the water,

the townfolk I met briefly in the few towns I was in,

the two hikers I met during my 20 days of hiking (just two, total!). 

And again, the pastor and his wife who devoted an entire  afternoon to driving 90 miles, picking me up at the end of my section hike and driving me to the Tallahassee  for my flight home the next day.

 

Most important is my husband who is my #1 trail angel, who never complains about me disappearing for weeks on end and faithfully sends resupplies of my dehydrated meals and snacks right on time, every time.

So that’s it for now.  I truly appreciate you following my adventures.  Do watch for a post in August about a wonderful hike in Europe that Bill and I will be doing, a different hike in January in southern Florida, and completing the Florida Trail next spring from where I left off here.