Everglades National Park

The southern end of Florida is home to Everglades National Park, which is also a UNESCO Biosphere and a World Heritage Site. Since 1900, the area has been both protected and threatened, with political battles needed to protect bird plumage, to create the park, and to protect the large, diverse ecosystem here. Marjory Stoneman Douglas wrote a book to explain how the Shark Valley River Slough runs as a “river of grass” through the Everglades. When summer rains fill Lake Okeechobee, a sheet of water overflows the low bank and floods the flat grasslands, revitalizing fish eggs and a whole ecosystem. A cross Florida road called the Tamiami Trail prevented that flow, and a political battle was fought to restore it partially. The fresh water eventually sinks through the limestone, filling the Biscayne Aquifer to provide drinking water for Miami. There are also canals crisscrossing lower Florida, including here, and that’s where these two young alligators were hanging out. Alligator Alcatraz, a temporary migrant detention center, is in the Everglades ecosystem, but it’s not in the national park. Alligator Alcatraz is north of the Tamiami trail in Big Cypress National Preserve.

The park is 1.5 million acres, including the mangrove islands that form the southern end of Florida, before the Keys. The best place to see the mangroves is by boat, either from Everglades City west of Big Cypress or by driving to Flamingo. I took my family to the latter, and we saw a large crocodile near the dock, plus much more wildlife on a quick cruise in the “submerged wilderness” of Florida Bay. Personally, I wouldn’t kayak these waters, but many people do, camping on the Chickees or raised bits of ground where natives camped seasonally and for different purposes for centuries at least. There’s even a paddling waterway to go between Everglades City and Flamingo. Before the highway was built out to Key West, visitors commonly took a similar route by boat.

The work of environmental protection is never done. Burmese pythons entered the park in the 1970s—likely as discarded pets—, and now they’ve wiped out most of the native animals, threatening the Florida panther with extinction. I was disappointed to see the dramatic decline in wildlife evident from the Shark Valley Tower, since I first visited decades ago and even since I visited again with my family not so many years ago. And since last year, the state government is not allowed to mention climate change, global warming or sea level rise, but that obviously won’t do anything to prevent rising sea levels from submerging much of southern Florida, including most of Miami and almost 1/2 the park in the coming decades. Especially if the government refuses to take action, climate science clearly shows that the environment will only continue to worsen more rapidly.

Big Cypress National Preserve

In the bigger, more famous neighboring park in southern Florida, the paid guide assured me that the American alligator “is a solitary creature, you never see more than one or two together”. In Big Cypress, I counted 16 alligators in one puddle and 17 in the next. Unlike most other wildlife I try to photograph, the alligators don’t run away; they look you right in the eyes and even slowly move towards you. Some are easy to spot, but while I was counting, three more were sneaking up on me.

Most of the million acres in Big Cypress and its smaller partners are actually prairie habitat for the endangered Florida panther, but there was a devastating fire recently, in our rapidly heating world. I drove the loop road instead, looking for gators in the gullies, but I often found myself looking up at the various trees to look at the air flowers hanging on to trunks and branches. In the hardwood hammocks, you might see some tree snails. And I saw a lot of birds, especially wood storks and other large wading birds.

Coming from the Naples side, I stayed in Everglades City, which is tucked in between the Ten Thousand Islands, the Everglades western estuaries and mangrove islands, and Big Cypress. Before the highway was extended to Key West, many visitors took boats to Key West from Everglades City. They’re rebuilding the hurricane damaged visitor center there in the name of Marjorie Stoneman Douglas, who wrote the book, River of Grass, that led to the protection of 2.5 million acres of lower Florida. Fortunately, large commercial efforts to farm, graze and otherwise exploit the land had all failed, so the environmental coalition won. Carbon pollution raises sea levels, so the future is uncertain. But for now, this is a good place for adventure travel out into the mangroves.

Arkansas Post National Memorial

Flooding has always been an issue here. French traders established the first trading post near here in 1686, buying pelts from the Quapaw and shipping them down the Mississippi. They build a fort, which is abandoned due to flooding. Then they build another nearby and again move due to flood. After the French and Indian War, the Spanish take over the fur trade and reestablish a fort on the original location. The French get it back and then sell the whole “Louisiana” territory to the US. The post is briefly an important territorial capital, but the Union shells the confederates here during the Civil War destroying much of the town. And what’s left over becomes a backwater as the Arkansas River shifts away in 1912 and the remnants slowly erode into the bayous.

The photo shows the Little Post Bayou in the foreground and the Arkansas River in the background. With climate change increasing flooding broadly, the River has now risen again, reconnecting with the Post. Most of the history is now underwater, including French, Spanish, British, Native American and Civil War battlegrounds. But some foundations remain, along with subtle signs of confederate trenches in the woods. The post is a wonderful place to view wildlife, with many geese, a few deer, a red headed woodpecker, alligators, and a snowy egret on a tiny island in a little lake. The ranger, who loves wildlife, repeatedly assured me that the alligators here were adorable loving creatures and perfectly safe for people. I kept my distance from the large one I spotted.