Candid Florida

One of my family’s favorite destinations in Florida when I was growing up was Rainbow Springs State Park just north of Dunnellon. Back in the day, it was filled with flights of fantasy – cruising underwater in submarine boats to see the fish face-to-face, drifting through the treetops inside a leaf on the Forest Flite monorail, and standing at the base of an immense waterfall to feel the cool splash amid tropical vegetation.

Now a Florida State Park, it’s still a favorite getaway. Here’s a peek at what Rainbow Springs used to be like back in the 1960s, courtesy of my mom, Linda Friend. And yes, that’s me in the photos.

Making a late trip to Micanopy, I arrived at Paynes Prairie State Park mindful of sunset’s approach. A wander along Lake Wauberg to the symphony of Archie Carr’s favorite frogs brought memories flooding back of gentler times before the gators chased the swimmers away and the parking lot was still full to overflow. I settled onto a bench to watch the sun shimmer across the waves until it was time to leave, caught in a cascade of memories. Savoring sunset from the boardwalk at US 441 made a fine close to the day.

Osprey at Honeymoon Island State Park

The busiest beach in Florida has a secret that only birders and hikers know. Get past the beach at Honeymoon Island State Park – and I do mean that literally, just drive into the park and past ALL of the beaches – and you’ll find a quiet corner with a picnic area, playground, and “Nature Trail” sign. This is another of my hikes in “50 Hikes in Central Florida,” where a revisit confirmed that very little has changed along the Osprey and Pelican Trails, save a few changed kiosks and a LOT of new benches. But the highlight of a summer’s afternoon spent in this virgin slash pine forest was seeing not one, not two, but two dozen or more osprey going about their lives. This is a major nesting area for osprey, and the chicks are in the nest. The sounds of the birds, the closeness of the nests, and the constant hum of avian life in the forest – beyond these grand raptors – made it an unforgettable walk.

In the heart of Gator Country, a deep sinkhole swallows the waters of Paynes Prairie at its northeastern rim in Gainesville: La Chua Sink. On a prior, drier visit, I could see Sweetwater Branch cascading down into the throat of the sink, but the bowl’s pretty full right now, and water is gushing down into it at an incredible rate.

A new boardwalk guides visitors around the sink to a lookout point over the broadest part, where the alligators have their say. You’d think you were at a gator farm with all the creatures you see thrashing about in the shallows and sunning on the banks, but this is the biggest gator hole in Paynes Prairie, and they flock here from all over. What was truly freaky, however, was the high-speed run that Sweetwater Branch makes down from an old weir and culvert into the sink. Complete with its own rapids to rival the Little Shoals of the Suwannee, it also offers the scariest water hazard you’d ever encounter — massive gators around every bend. What do you call whitewater with alligators?

It’s been about five years since I stopped in at Fred Gannon Rocky Bayou State Park in Niceville, and this time, the trails were open and ready for business. On my last visit, I was too close on the heels of hurricane damage in the region, and my time was short. Did a full survey of the beautiful trail system here, three loops that offer views of bayou, stream, and cedar forest, and tromped through the campground twice, wishing I had indeed finalized plans to camp here, as it’s one of the nicer ones I’ve encountered. The sites look out over the water but are in deep shade.  Whether you’re picnicking, birding, camping, or enjoying the hiking trails (soon to be discussed in depth on Florida Hikes!), this park along SR 20 is worth the stop!

For years, I’ve been passing a sign along SR 20 west of Tallahassee that made reference to a picnic area along Lake Talquin, the reservior created along the Ochlocknee River for a hydroelectric plant that serves the city of Tallahassee. On this last trip, I noticed the sign said “Lake Talquin State Park,” so not wanting to miss an opportunity to chalk up another state park visit on my tally (I’ve been to almost all of them), I stopped. And was I glad I did! There’s a beautiful nature trail through the slope forest above deep ravines that drop off to the lake, as well as the promised picnic pavillion.  Even better, a steep staircase drops down a ravine to the surface of the lake, where a boardwalk offers a place to sit and enjoy a novel … or cast a line. The view from the boardwalk reminds me of the Adirondacks of my youth.  This is a little gem for anglers, picnickers, and hikers to enjoy.