As The Crow Flies

From reading journals of past hikers, where there were stories like the hiker who was woke up by a sheriff who said, “You get out of here and if I see you here again, I’ll take you to jail.”, I knew I didn’t want to hike the Florida Trail. Still it was January, I was in Florida, and I was waiting for spring, to start the Appalachian Trail. I decided to hike to the Appalachian Trail from Tampa.

After several nights on the trail which including a night were I walked until 10pm on a paved “rails to trails” pathway and after giving up hope of ever finding any woods to sleep in, literally slept in the ditch, I came to a wildlife preserve. I was relieved to finally be in the woods where I could enjoy the outdoors and feel safe.

Looking for a place to camp that night, I eyed a huge oak tree with branches that arched down to the ground and made a magical protected spot within its branches to camp. It was on the edge of a nice savanna, which also would make a nice spot to camp and where I would get more morning light. I debated for a while over which was the best spot and chose the oak tree. I’m glad I did.

As soon as it got dark, I was woke up by probably 6-8 pickups barreling through the savanna with huge spot lights and men perched on the back with riffles.

I learned that night, when you are on the Florida Trail, you need to make camp in between trees so the pickups that barrel through the woods at night don’t run you over. Even still, the pickups came so close to me one night that I almost jumped up and revealed my position. I talked to a hiker who said a pickup came inches from hitting him one night.

Another thing I learned on the Florida Trail, was to sleep like a rat: always ready to respond. There was usually something going on at night. I wouldn’t see anyone all day and then as soon as it got dark the locals would come out with their large packs of dogs, guns, spotlights and pickups.

I got sick on the Florida trail and would wake up with coughing fits. One night I was coughing away and I see a flashlight moving through the woods towards me. I was feeling around in the dark for my cough drops and thinking “Don’t cough, don’t cough”. After that, I went to a doctor.

The doctor echoed the sentiments of every other Floridian I met– “I wouldn’t be out there without a gun.” He warned me about the people that roam the woods at night. He said, “They are doing one of three things, poaching, making moonshine, or checking on their pot plants and you don’t want to meet up with any of them.” Among the prescriptions he gave me, was a very expensive bottle of cough syrup. With a good swig of cough syrup, I slept soundly and wasn’t bothered by a thing at night. That worked great until the cough syrup ran out.

Finally, I just excepted that every night would bring some spine wrenching fear episode and I would say to my self, “Just get some sleep, wake up when the nightly incident happens, be scared, and then go back to sleep.” I also started thinking, that maybe if they found me they may not open fire on me as if I were a road sign. Like the person that left a comment said, “They probably weren’t hunting hikers.” That’s a good thing to believe if you are hoping to get some sleep on the Florida Trail.

At the end of the Florida Trail, just outside of Andalusia, Al, I stopped at a little store with a grill and a campground around back. The man there said:

We get all kinds here. Why, once, we got a guy that was pushing a shopping cart across the USA. Well, now, a shopping cart wasn’t meant to be pushed across the USA and so this fellow wasn’t doing very well. I found him some better wheels and rebuilt his shopping cart for him. Never did hear if he made it or not.

He wanted to show me the newspaper article he had saved about the guy, but he couldn’t find it. He turned to his Japanese wife who spoke with a southern accent and said, “Honey, where is that newspaper article about the guy pushing the shopping cart?” She shrugged and he said, “Hmm, someone must of stole it.”

The nicest part of the Florida Trail is a live bombing range. The swamps have bog bridges, so you don‘t have to slog through alligator and snake infested waters and it was one of the few sections I felt safe in; most of the Florida Trail is plagued with armed rednecks that come out at night and roam the woods with spot lights and dogs.

To go through it, you first need to hitch hike or get a trail angel to take you to a place where you see a video on the dangers of walking through a live bombing range.

The video starts with a happy little girl skipping through the woods and then cuts to film of fighter jets dropping bombs and the narrator boasting the merits of multi-use land. I may be wrong, but Florida seems like the only place in the world that would think of combining a park and a bombing range.

Then, in the video you see a hiker surprised to find what looks to be a cruise missile. She then takes some flagging tape out of her backpack and begins roping it off. She flags down a ranger, or what ever you call the person that patrols a bombing range/recreational park and reports the armament to him. I never saw one of those guys; I never saw anyone. And as prepared as I thought I was for any event, I had never thought of bringing flagging ribbon in the advent of finding live armament in my path.

You are not to leave the trail, and you are to camp at designated camp sites only, but the trail was so enjoyable to hike, that I kept hiking and would just camp anywhere I was at dusk . Afterwards I thought this rule was probably because there could be bombs in the bushes.

Two days after I walked out of the bombing range they tested the “Mother of all Bombs” there and people in Alabama said they felt it.