Restarting the FT
I wake up at dawn to the sound of gunshots, on the last day of hunting season. No worries about oversleeping on my first full day ;) I check to make sure there's no game around me, and cautiously emerge from my tent. The hunters sound a quarter to half mile away or so, and seem to be shooting in the other direction. I do have some blaze orange, and a whole bunch of bright aquamarine green, and it'll have to do.
In the cool morning temps, I feel strong. I'm in mixed long leaf pine forest and salt prairie, and I enjoy all the plants - very different from Colorado. By early afternoon it's hot and muggy, I'm soaked with sweat, and even though there are no hills, I'm clearly starting to lag. I want to make 17 miles for the day, because that's where good water is, and it leaves only 10 the next day to Alexander Springs. I roll in about an hour before sunset, hot and overtired. I make a quick dinner, set up my tent, and try to sleep.
Unfortunately, I have a headache that lasts through the night and I don't sleep well. Day 2 is only a half day's hike though, and I roll into Alexander Springs around 12:30. Alexander Springs is an 80 mlion gallon per day spring, and has a small, very pretty, swimmable lake. I brought swimming goggles especially for this, and alternately swim, rest, and eat my way through the afternoon. You can dive down about 20 feet to one of the limestone vents, and I try it a few times, but I can't stay down long. Rather unexpectedly, there are a couple of mermaids in the spring also, young women with mermaid tail costumes in lieu of swim fins. It's clear they know what they are doing, as they dive and stay under water longer than probably anyone there without tanks. I watch for a bit, they are very relaxed underwater, and it's kind of mesmerizing. In the early evening I pack up, say goodbye to the mermaids(when do you ever get to do that!) and head out. There's lots of camping options, so I continue on until sunset and cover about 3 miles. This turns out to be quite serendipitous, as the following day I roll into Juniper Springs at 3:30, plenty of time to swim, eat, and enjoy that spring also. A solo southbound hiker shows up and we chat as the evening wears on. She's hiked the Florida Trail before, and ithis time is just hiking the Ocala section for a week.
On the morning of day 4 I meet a social media survivalist filming himself. Decked out with a revolver and bandolier, a hunting knife, and very clean camo gear, he had a GoPro clipped to a bush. He was surprised to run into anyone on the trail at 7:30am, and asked where I had camped. We chatted a bit, and he couldn't resist giving me pointers about how to stay safe in the woods. I was curious what kind of gun he was carrying, revolvers aren't all that common anymore, but I didn't want to spark a long conversation. Off we each went, he to unclip his camera, and me north into a short stretch of wilderness. A short while later a completely naked hiker passes me going southbound. Nothing but shoes, a hat, and a dayback. We don't chat long either; he's a chubby dude about my age.
Aside from the rather unexpected hikers, the morning is absolutely gorgeous, with a dense mist hanging in the trees, brightly lit by the sun. It burns off within an hour, but is fantastic while it lasts. The terrain is forest again, with some prairie and several oak and palm tree "hammocks." The hammocks occur as a sort of island in the marshy prairies. They are elevated just enough to provide a drier and richer soil, and the vegetation of saw palmetto, palm trees, and live oaks with their long horizontal branches can can be quite dense.
I pick a camp at 18 miles, just before sunset. Water availability stretched the day a little longer than I would have preferred. I'm tired, but not overtired, I think. It's quiet and cool in the spot, and I sleep well.
The next morning I wake to the sound of Sandhill Cranes. Wow are they loud! I've seen Sandhill Cranes most of the times I've passed large prairie areas that also had water. They are together in mated pairs, and they're one of my favorite sights on trail. Later in the morning a bobcat crosses my path. I see it for only three or four seconds, and I don’t hear a sound from it. Not a crunched leaf or broken twig, and it was probably only fifty feet away. Kind of Matrix-like, was it really there?
At lunch I reach a roadhouse called The 88 Store. The smell of faded cigarette smoke and beer reminds me of the bar my grandfather owned when I was a kid. I asked, and yes, Florida still allows smoking in bars if most of the sales are from alcohol and not food. I chat with a semi-retired contractor on a long, shady, very homey front porch for close to two hours. As the heat of the day begins to fade, I pack up and push on. It's hot and humid again, but by evening I find a nice spot to bed down in a open, long leaf pine forest.
It's supposed to rain the next day, so I move my rain gear to the top of the pack when I leave in the morning. Sure enough, an hour later it's pouring rain. By late morning I've reached the campground where I've mailed a resupply and have a reservation for the night. I check in, collect my box, and head for a welcome, indoor, hot water shower. I've covered 88 miles on trail in six days, 102 miles total, and I've earned the afternoon off.
