BY JOE BALOG
West Volusia offers endless opportunities for a hike. These days, there are very few places where you can stop and listen and hear only nature. No buzzing chain saws, the Jake Brake of a truck, or the rumble of a Harley.
I thought I’d recently found one, but was quickly defeated by the whine of a small airplane on a skydive ascent. I let it slide, realizing the plane’s passengers were just as excited to be in the West Volusia outdoors as I was.
While I try to spend a lot of time fishing, my most common outdoor pursuit is hiking. Now, I’m not talking about the activity that first comes to mind when you hear the term. There are no specialized boots or trekking poles in my routine. I’ve always felt that was overdoing anyway, especially in Florida, where major elevation changes are rare.
I do carry a stick, a hand-fashioned piece of pine as long as a wizard’s staff that I routinely use to practice the lost art of stick-throwing. With no one around, I still find myself pretending to be a Native American subsisting on rabbits or grouse. I’m deadly, out to about 8 feet.
My hiking is really just a brisk walk in tennis shoes. I get too distracted to make any real time, usually tracking animals and visualizing when they, too, traveled the same path. Hikes take far longer than they should. But that’s OK. I’ve covered a lot of miles on everything from a designated, paved trail to an unimproved fire lane.
Our area has tremendous hiking opportunities, more than most people realize. Everything from city parks to a National Wildlife Refuge lie within our borders, and all have trails.
The St. Johns River Water Management District manages some fabulous properties. The Ocala National Forest is also in our backyard, featuring part of the 1,500-mile Florida Trail.
Locals, of course, talk about our Spring to Spring Trail, on track to span 26 miles from Lake Monroe in Sanford to DeLeon Springs. This is a true gem and sees quite a bit of use. I enjoy the Lake Beresford pathway; the sight of young kids learning to ride a bike never gets old.
Turning back to my recent trip, the Heart Island Conservation Area again found me and my dog, Seeker, sniffing out a wild turkey. Well, he was sniffing. I was pondering the turkeys’ food source, attempting to ID a few seeds left in their wake. The skydivers briefly interrupted, but then quickly went on their way, backdropped against a perfectly blue sky common around here in late spring, before the humidity sets in and reminds us that we do, indeed, live in Florida.
May is a great month for a hike. Maybe tomorrow I’ll head to DeLeon Springs State Park. If you’ve never been there, or have an in-law in town for a visit, DeLeon is a must.
Sure, the park’s pancake house is a hit, but what draws me are the trees. Live oaks like those out of a Tarzan film surround the parking lots. Massive hammocks of these trees once existed all through our area, across the eastern bank of the St. Johns River. The state park property in DeLeon Springs has the best remaining granddaddy oaks, growing up, then over and down again to the ground. Oh, the stories they could tell.
It’s important we learn all we can about our parks and trails and public properties, because they aren’t here by accident. Each has a story of conservation, likely faced with adversity and opposition at first, but surviving on through the forethought of people smarter than the developers.
Our own Volusia ECHO program is a shining example of what can be done when citizens vote for what they believe in. ECHO regularly funds many of the trails and recreational infrastructure in our area. Look around the next time you’re at the park, or on a hike, and you may come across a plaque marking another successful ECHO project.
I mentioned the St. Johns River Water Management District properties, a personal favorite. Land acquired is for protecting water quality across the region; as a bonus, most properties have outstanding hiking and equestrian trails.
Be forewarned, this is not a paved-trail stroll in flip-flops. Conservation properties feature sand and occasionally grassy fire lanes, mowed but often rugged, resulting in great exercise for trail runners. I occasionally fit into that group, especially after a morning stuck in the office.
The Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge is 22,000 acres of heaven. While it may seem underdeveloped in the eyes of recreation fans, National Wildlife Refuges are intended to be that way, their primary purpose being conservation of vulnerable species. Coincidentally, most of those do best without a bunch of people around.
Don’t be swayed into thinking there aren’t ample hiking opportunities at the Lake Woodruff NWR, as remote as it may seem. Again, lots of lanes run through various parts of the refuge, and a series of designated trails head out to small impoundments near the headquarters off Grand Avenue. There, you might see a snail kite.
The only downside of the National Wildlife Refuge program, as I can see it, is the total un-acceptance of dogs on the properties, leashed or not. Makes no sense, and likely holds back quite a few visitors.
Just about all of the other hiking areas I mentioned allow dogs. Keep them at bay when other hikers are around, and be sure to carry a poop bag. You won’t find any dispensers in most places, and nobody likes a surprise around the parking lot.
I’d be smart to mention a few things to look out for when venturing off into the West Volusia woods. Your biggest threats when hiking unimproved areas are insects, namely ticks and chiggers. These can be brutal if they find you tasty, as they do me. Best to wear long pants and socks when in the bush. The real fail-safe, though, is a warm shower following your adventure.
Mosquitoes can be bad, too, even in the daytime, when hiking some of the low-lying areas around the St. Johns. Again, I prefer long attire to spray, but both work.
Alligators will be nonexistent in most areas and, for goodness sake, stop worrying about bears. They want nothing to do with you. Be considerate that you are in bear country, though, if you have a dog that will take off and track. A black bear will be less than considerate to a pushy dog, and many properties house wild hogs as well.
Rattlesnakes live here, too, so a warm sunny day may not be the best time to go traipsing through the palmettos. Stick to the pathways. You’ll get a great outdoor experience that way.
There you have it, an informal guide to get you out on the trail. A good hike can really clear the mind. Even 20 minutes at lunchtime helps, and a hiking hot spot is probably within minutes of your location.
Seeker’s ready now, his mindset given away by sad eyes and a pouty attitude. We need some air. I’ll see you out there.
