Anhinga Trail — A Walk That Can Be As Subtle As Night And Day

Anhinga Trail — A Walk That Can Be As Subtle As Night And Day

 

By Kait­lyn Carroll

Day and night; dark and light; qui­et and loud.  In Ever­glades Nation­al Park, the Anhin­ga Trail has two dif­fer­ent faces.  The area wel­comes vis­i­tors to expe­ri­ence both the loud, bustling day and the qui­et, eerie black night.

The trail entrance at the Roy­al Palm Vis­i­tor Cen­ter sits on the south­ern tip of Flori­da, towards the east­ern edge of what Lin­da Fri­ar, spokes­woman for Ever­glades Nation­al Park, calls one of the nation’s more sub­tle parks.  “It takes a lit­tle more ener­gy to expe­ri­ence,” she said.  The 1.5 mil­lion acre park offers hik­ing, bik­ing, canoe­ing, camp­ing, fish­ing and more to the adven­ture-mind­ed tourist.  “It was the first nation­al park set aside for bio­di­ver­si­ty.  The num­ber of dif­fer­ent habi­tats, the num­ber of species; you can see this geog­ra­phy is no oth­er place on Earth,” Fri­ar said.  The Anhin­ga Trail is a minia­ture mod­el of the park’s abun­dance of nat­ur­al beauty.

A small group gath­ered around the trail­head one recent spring night.  The Anhin­ga Trail starts as a wind­ing path­way along the bank of a saw­grass marsh and turns into a wood­en board­walk as it extends out onto open water.  The loop out and back takes a leisure­ly twen­ty minutes.

The con­stant hum of mos­qui­toes and the chirp­ing of crick­ets cho­rused amid the occa­sion­al bird­call.  Those who for­got bug spray cursed under their breath.  Peo­ple scanned the water with flash­lights until one beam swept across the glow­ing eyes of a large Amer­i­can alli­ga­tor.  The oth­ers gath­ered to watch as it rip­pled towards the near­est bank, where fish seemed to be jumping.

anhingaKaitlyn
An anhin­ga, the bird after which the trail is named, sits on the bank of the water along the board­walk.
Pho­to by Kait­lyn Carroll

While the Anhin­ga Trail remains open 24 hours a day, many vis­i­tors who explore after dark choose to do so dur­ing a guid­ed night tour.  Park Ranger Lin­da Cold­iron began the tour by ask­ing every­one to keep his or her flash­lights off dur­ing the first few min­utes of the walk.  The group start­ed down the trail, and as everyone’s eyes adjust­ed to the sheer dark­ness the loud­est sound was the shuf­fling of shoes on the pave­ment.  Peo­ple whis­pered and bumped shoul­ders.  Even Cold­iron whis­pered as she elab­o­rat­ed on the his­to­ry of the park.

When she gave per­mis­sion to turn on flash­lights, peo­ple quick­ly began to scan the water for more signs of alli­ga­tors.  How­ev­er the day had been cool­er and over­cast, and Cold­iron explained that nights like that did not usu­al­ly pro­duce many sight­ings.  Some­one spot­ted some­thing in the water – a Lil­ly pad.  But then, a gator.  It quick­ly sub­merged before every­one could find it with their thin beams of flash­light.  Cold­iron apol­o­gized for the scarci­ty of rep­tiles.  She assured that a day trip would make up for the night’s flop.

The fol­low­ing brought promise, sun­shine, and warm, calm air.  The park­ing lot was full and there was a con­stant stream of cars in and out.  It was loud and busy and bright.

Tourists, espe­cial­ly fam­i­lies, enjoy the Anhin­ga Trail dur­ing the day because “it’s always got a lot of wildlife,” Fri­ar said, and “it’s easy access for all ages.”

Along the open­ing of the trail, dou­ble-crest­ed cor­morants sat four in a row on a wood­en rail­ing, their deep turquoise eyes watch­ing qui­et­ly as tourists came with­in inch­es.  Near the line of trees on the oth­er side of the walk­way, a large Flori­da soft­shell tur­tle scoot­ed across the grass.  When peo­ple came too close, she backpedalled and kicked out her hind legs.  A pur­ple gallinule weaved his way through the tall grass­es along the edge of the water and an anhin­ga, the snake-necked bird after which the trail is named, sat high in a tree with his wings spread wide, warm­ing him­self in the sun.

Tourists, talk­ing loud­ly, took pic­tures.  The plop of Flori­da red­bel­ly tur­tles duck­ing into the water and the calls of birds could be heard among many voic­es.  It is the qui­etest ani­mal, how­ev­er, that is the Anhin­ga Trail’s main attrac­tion.  A few could be spot­ted incon­spic­u­ous­ly sun­ning along the embank­ment as the trail moved along.  Oth­er park guests, walk­ing back from the far end of the trail, hint­ed that the best was yet to come.

It was – the alli­ga­tors Cold­iron promised.

A pit full of them.  The end of the board­walk opened up into a small obser­va­tion deck, where dozens of alli­ga­tors sprawled across the mud­dy ground below.  At first they seemed tan­gled; knots of tails and legs com­bined.  But a clos­er look revealed a large rep­til­ian puz­zle.  Each piece fit snug­ly togeth­er but main­tained its own edges.  Some were sub­merged in the water until only their snouts and the spines on their backs were vis­i­ble.  Oth­ers lay out on the grass with their legs extend­ed to each side.  Many had their eyes closed, seem­ing­ly obliv­i­ous to the mass­es of onlook­ers above.  But the few with their eyes open seemed to be star­ing right back.  They were so close, yet so far away; far enough for the vis­i­tors not to show fear.

alligatorsKaitlyn
Dozens of alli­ga­tors lay in the sun at the end of the board­walk along the Anhin­ga Trail.
Pho­to by Kait­lyn Carroll

Peo­ple called out a count, but each num­ber was dif­fer­ent.  The lengths of the alli­ga­tors, too, seemed to be a top­ic of debate.  A young boy guessed 30 feet.  His father cor­rect­ed him to 10.  Female alli­ga­tors often do reach 10 feet in length, while males reach up to 15 feet on occa­sion.  While the alli­ga­tors in this hole seemed to enjoy their dis­tance, many oth­ers do come clos­er.  Gators occa­sion­al­ly cross the Anhin­ga Trail path or sun them­selves where the pave­ment is warm.

The gators walk across, and we’re find­ing peo­ple sit­ting their young chil­dren on top of the gators,” Fri­ar said.  “I’m not kidding…they think that they’re not real because the gator just sits there.”

There has only been one case of a human/gator inter­ac­tion in the park, accord­ing to Fri­ar.  “That was a child who rode a bike over it and fell on the gator, and the gator snapped.  The child was fine.”  Fri­ar sug­gest­ed that a new type of fenc­ing might be intro­duced to pre­vent fur­ther inter­ac­tions like that one.

Whether they are two feet or two hun­dred feet away, the day­light allows tourists to keep a com­fort­able dis­tance.  Some say the attrac­tion of Ever­glades Nation­al Park is sub­tle, but between day and night at the Anhin­ga Trail, the nat­ur­al beau­ty of South Flori­da is very clear.