Hiking the Rim of Okeechobee

I had a Saturday free and decided to get out and do some hiking, South Florida
style. That is: at risk of being chomped by a 'gator, in land only marginally
drier than the swamp from which it emerged.

Lake Okeechobee was my first destination: it draws your eye inexorably as you
gaze upon the southern half of Florida, and around it was a massive earthen
dike with a hiking trail at its top. Built in the early part of the 21st
century to control the sloshing floods of Lake Okeechobee, it thoughtfully
included a hiking trail that permitted you to essentially circumnavigate Lake
Okeechobee if you had enough time, stamina, and a decent rain jacket. The thing
is perfectly flat, like tracing a doughnut. In fact, the lake's low profile is
behind the flooding: it's basically a shallow lens of water, that passing
hurricanes and storms were able to coax into sloshing up and over the low rim
and into the surrounding farmland.


Florida has none of these of course, so Okeechobee was a fun hike. I drove to
Canal Point on its southeastern shore and followed the shoreline north for a
few hours, returning along the same path. Okeechobee is a body of water large
enough to affect the weather, and I hiked the better part of four hours at the
edge of a black thunder squall whose rain poured down on the sugar cane fields
in opaque sheets, while the sky over the lake was for the most part, clear. 

I returned to the same area the next day, this time to explore the Dupuis
Management Area. I'd underestimated its size and realized too late how truly
expansive an area it is for walking. There are so few open spaces left in
Southern Florida, and this one refreshed and cleansed me as do open spaces
everywhere.

Dupuis is mostly some sort of wet, subtropical savanna: isolated stands of
pines and lots of palmetto undergrowth. It was overcast all afternoon and I
hiked under a glowering sky that occasionally broke into rain. The grey was
humanizing, somehow, though, as was the threat of being wet and cold. Deep in
that open space I saw not a single other human soul that day. But I did cross
paths with a pair of White Tailed Deer, and to my great surprise, a pair of
Bald Eagles! I hurried past them so as not to disturb: Lord knows they have
enough trouble without curious hikers ruining their day.

The rain showers didn't ruin my day either, but the constant threat of downpour
encouraged me to pack lightly. I took not even a camera, so all these photos
are borrowed from elsewhere. Thanks!