Resplendent River Of Grass Everglades More Than A Swamp

‘This couldn’t possibly be the right way! Could it?”

It was February, and while the snow was still flying in Spokane, my wife, Nora, and I were half way down the 100-mile wilderness waterway deep within Everglades National Park.

Broad Creek was getting less and less broad. The thick canopy of Red Mangrove was getting lower and lower, and the water seemed to be getting darker. We were now routinely having to maneuver our canoe around dense clumps of dangling roots, hanging from tunnel-forming branches in their never ending quest for water that always seemed just out of reach. But it had to be right. We were still headed due east, just as the nautical chart indicated, and riding the tidal current in. The water was plenty deep, and it was still over two hours until high tide.

Then suddenly, the passage again opened wide, and the long-awaited marker number 16 appeared. Camp was just ahead.

Everglades National Park is indeed the Real Florida. And paddling a canoe across its brackish bays and through its alligator-lined sloughs, creeks and rivers of its western boundary has got to be the most intimately rewarding way to experience it.

The road ends on Chokoloskee Island, just south of Everglades City in the northwest corner of the park. From there, canoes can be rented, shuttle services arranged, final provisions purchased, and one’s last fresh water shower can be savored.

Since motorboats under 18 feet can also navigate most of the marked route to Flamingo, the experience had less of a wilderness feeling than it otherwise might. But once we were well away from the city, into areas with names like Lostman’s Bay, Alligator Creek, and the Nightmare, we found ourselves pleasantly alone. The Nightmare is a series of only moderately scary shallow creeks connecting two rivers near the Gulf. It can be run at high tide, or an alternate route out to the Gulf can be used if the winds are calm.

Unlike the many other wilderness adventures we have taken, this one required that we pack in all of our drinking water for 9 days: about 18 gallons. And, as with our food, it had to be stored in heavy, hard plastic containers to prevent the tree rats (opossums) and raccoons from feasting on our precious cargo. Apparently these critters have learned to chew through softer plastic, push jugs over to benefit from leaky caps, and even manipulate spigots for a taste of that “sweet” water.

Camping in the Everglades is another unique experience. Roofed 10-by-12 foot wooden platforms, called “chickees” (patterned after the traditional Miccosukee Indian huts), have been built throughout the mangrove swamps where no dry land exists. A narrow walkway leads to a chemical toilet and over to a twin platform. Freestanding tents are required, and woe to those who sleepwalk or who drop their car keys between the floor boards to the brown mucky water below.

Underneath and all around, fish are swimming and leaping high out of the water, long-legged birds are squawking and searching the muddy banks for crabs and insects, and an occasional gator silently surfaces, expecting to be illegally fed a few table scraps. Rangers told us to report any gators that were too “pushy” so that they could “relocate” them.

On the rivers closest to the Gulf, dolphins and the endangered manatees are often seen and heard blowing and splashing about all night long. One of the highlights of our trip was paddling under a pair of roosting Roseate Spoonbills, whose pink, orange, and yellow feathers shimmered in the sun.

While mosquitoes are certainly not unique to the Everglades, its 43 species can be counted on to become extremely active at dusk, even in the middle of winter. This encouraged an early dinner and dive into the tent, where we could comfortably watch the remaining glow of the the Southern sunset.

With nothing but salt water around, keeping comfortably clean was a major concern. And how was my wife to wash her hair? Fortunately, because of the fresh water that flows from the sawgrass prairies all along the route, most of the bays and rivers are only moderately salty. As long as we towel dried, bathing removed more salt than it left behind. Our biodegradable soap worked reasonably well as a shampoo.

All campsites must be reserved in person, a maximum of 24 hours ahead of departure, so it is sometimes necessary to be flexible in one’s exact route and schedule. Since we were able to travel before the spring break high season, we had no trouble reserving the itinerary we wanted. Paddlers should allow at least seven to eight days to do the entire route. Of course, endless possibilities for loops, side trips, and shorter “canoe only” trails are also available for those who are not so destination driven.

This is the 50th year that Everglades National Park has protected a unique ecosystem in the United States. Backcountry visitors soon discover that it is far more than just a swamp and well worth an extended stay.

MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: IF YOU GO: To obtain a Backcountry Trip Planner, call Everglades National Park at (305) 242-7700, or write to Everglades National Park at PO Box 279, Homestead, FL 33030. For nautical charts and a guidebook of the waterway, call the Florida National Parks and Monuments Association at (305) 247-1216 or write to FNPMA, 10 Parachute Key #51, Homestead, FL 33034-6735. Ask for charts numbered 11430, 11432, and 11433. Charts are $14.00 each. For canoe rentals and shuttle service, call ENP Boat Tours at (941) 695-2591. Canoes rent for $18 per day. For complete outfitting, canoe and airport shuttle services, guided tours, canoe, kayak and equipment rental, contact either: North American Canoe Tours (NACT) at P.O. Box 5038, Everglades City, FL 33929 or at (941) 695-4666 (November through March). The Ivey House, a very comfortable bed & breakfast (which also serves a delicious, home-style dinner) is next door and part of NACT. OR Huron Kayak & Canoe at Box 367, Everglades City, FL 33929 (941) 695-3666.