Along
Tamiami Trail, a world all its own
BY
SUSAN COCKING
Back
in 1923, when completion of the 275-mile Tamiami Trail from Tampa to Miami was
stalled, 23 men calling themselves the Tamiami Trailblazers and two Seminole guides
decided to cross the Everglades in cars.
To
demonstrate that the final section could be built through the treacherous swamp
between Fort Myers and Miami, they set out in their Fords on April 4, a Wednesday,
intending to reach Miami four days later.
Their
cars got stuck in the marsh, forcing them to board a Caterpillar tractor, build
17 bridges by hand, cut through eight miles of dense cypress forest, and get food
and gas dropped in by bomber aircraft. The supposed five-day journey of 190 miles
took 23 days.
But
the Trailblazers got everyone's attention: After much drilling, blasting and dredging,
the highway was completed in 1928.
Nearly
80 years later, Trail travel is a lot easier, although one can still find plenty
of Trailblazer-like, outdoorsy and touristy things to do heading west out of Miami-Dade.
Here are some highlights of a recent 74-mile car trip from the outskirts of Miami
to the outskirts of Naples:
Dade Corners Travel Center, 17696 SW Eighth St. (corner of Krome Avenue and Tamiami
Trail).
This
is your one-stop shop for just about everything you need for trail-braving: gasoline,
canoes, guns, propane, fishing rods, camo wear, goggles. Also glass figurines,
preserved gator heads, coffee mugs in the shape of women's breasts, and Subway
sandwiches.
After
loading up, but before continuing west, turn back about a block, hang a U, and
test-fire your gun at . . .
Trail Glades Range, 17601 SW Eighth St.
Operated
by Miami-Dade Parks, this is a favorite hangout of hunters, police officers, security
guards and target shooters. There's a rifle-pistol range and a separate area for
skeet and trap. If you don't have your own, you can rent a rifle or shotgun.
On
the day of my visit, a group from the Keys (where it's illegal to shoot guns anywhere)
were practicing their skills on clay targets. Readying their shotguns, they called,
''Pull!'' and range master Mike Kuvin pressed a button that sent disc targets
flying in all directions.
''It's
fun for me,'' said Eddie Wenzel of Sugarloaf Key. ``I don't hunt anymore. You
keep your skills up.''
Islamorada's
Ken Gleason managed to hit 24 of 25 targets, which bodes well for the upcoming
fall duck hunting season.
''If
it flies, it dies,'' Gleason said, laughing.
Having
heard enough gunfire, it was time to embrace a different kind of loud noise at
. . .
Coopertown Airboat Tours, about five miles west of Dade Corners, Tamiami Trail.
For
$19, we took a 40-minute airboat ride into the sawgrass marsh of the East Everglades
with guide Chris Malm and got to watch a real-life swamp soap opera.
Arriving
in Shark River Slough, we saw a brilliantly colored purple gallinule being menaced
by a five-foot alligator. The bird stood at water's edge, cheeping in distress
at the gator.
Suddenly,
three grayish-brown chicks emerged from the sawgrass and began to pick their way
with long, spindly legs over the vegetation away from the villain's jaws. The
gator, defeated, submerged. Happy ending.
Back
at the dock, visitors posed for photos holding baby gators and reveling in their
alleged bravery.
The
next gator sighting occurred a little farther west at . . .
The S-333 spillway near the ValuJet Memorial, about 12 miles west of Dade Corners.
Seated
canalside on folding chairs about 20 yards apart were Mae Mack of Miami and her
adult daughters Guitannie Randolph and Pam Brown. Armed with two 20-foot-long
cane poles each, the three were trying to catch bass, bluegill, catfish, mullet,
or bream despite the presence of a seven-foot gator intent on intercepting their
hooked fish.
''Sometimes
they come and grab the pole,'' Mack said, nodding toward the reptile.
Fortunately,
the animal was slow on the draw, allowing Mack to land a bluegill and a mullet
in quick succession.
''I'm
going to clean them and cook them,'' she said happily.
Once
again, a gator went hungry. But its cousins probably fared much better farther
west at . . .
Shark Valley entrance, Everglades National Park, about 18 miles from Dade Corners.
The
best place to view large numbers of gators, Shark Valley offers tram tours and
bicycle rentals along a paved 15-mile loop trail through a vast, grassy prairie.
Gators swim in ponds along the the roadway, station themselves at the ends of
culvert pipes to intercept fish and warm themselves along the canal banks.
A
bicyclist once observed from a distance as a hungry reptile ambushed an anhinga
and devoured it in the middle of the road. Visitors can watch piles of gators
from a 65-foot observation tower at the trail's halfway point.
At
Shark Valley, travelers now have choices to make: Cross the highway from the park
entrance and eat fried catfish, frog legs and gator bites in the air conditioning
at the Miccosukee Restaurant; go next door to the Miccosukee convenience store
and sample pickled pigs' feet for $2; stop and fish for bass in the L-28 canal
aboard a small outboard-powered Gheenoe as Miami's Herbert Hatch has been doing
for the past 42 years; or take an unguided side trip through the Big Cypress National
Preserve on the mostly unpaved 24-mile Loop Road.
We
skipped the fried and pickled local cuisine, took a short but speedy Gheenoe ride
with Hatch, and traveled the entire Loop Road.
For
the record, Hatch's best day on the L-28 was in October three years ago when he
caught and released 216 bass using a Heddon baby torpedo lure. He says the fishing
used to be good back by Krome Avenue, but these days he drives nearly 22 miles
west to catch bass. His paddle bears the scars of skirmishes with gators.
Loop Road, about 22 miles from Dade Corners. Don't think about a side trip unless
you've got at least two hours to kill.
This
shady, scenic one-lane road through the swamp goes from primitively paved to pocked
with puddles within just a few miles. Best traveled by mountain bike, Loop Road
provides excellent wildlife viewing opportunities; you might see deer, otter,
gator, bobcat or black bear. A rich array of bird life includes wood stork, egret,
great blue heron, cormorant and anhinga.
Some
of the cypress marsh vistas will look familiar. That's because they are depicted
in the acclaimed black-and-white photographs of Clyde Butcher, which you can admire
or buy at . . .
Big Cypress Gallery, 52388 Tamiami Trail, about 43 miles from Dade Corners.
The
world-renowned photographer was not here the day we visited. Sales associate Ailyn
Hoey told us he was exhibiting his work in Virginia, after having recently completed
America the Beautiful: The Monumental Landscape, a book of photographs taken at
18 national parks in 2006.
Perusing
Butcher's stark, silver-tinged views of the South Florida landscape is always
a treat; his northern images inspire as well.
One
subject Butcher has failed to capture is the notorious Everglades Skunk Ape --
the smelly, seven-foot tall Big Foot/Sasquatch look-alike reputed to live in the
swamp. To view images of the Skunk Ape, you must head for . . .
Skunk Ape Research Headquarters, 40904 Tamiami Trail, about 52 miles from Dade
Corners.
Chief
researcher Dave Shealy, author of Everglades Skunk Ape Research Field Guide, was
off conducting field studies in the Big Cypress on the day of our visit. Rick
Scholle, working the front desk of the combination gift shop/campground/zoo, didn't
give the subject much credence.
''The
only thing more elusive than the Skunk Ape is the research into the Skunk Ape,''
he sniffed. ``I'm in charge of the animals that do exist.''
By
way of explanation, Scholle led us into the back of the shop where several Burmese
and reticulated pythons, a Nile monitor lizard, anaconda, parrots, macaws, and
cockatoos reside in pens and cages.
Everyone
got to hold and pet Sassy the cockatoo, whose attention-getting whistle is so
shrill that it got him kicked out of Islamorada's Theater of the Sea.
Food
for Sassy and the other animals -- including crickets for the snakes -- are delivered
from the smallest post office in the United States . . .
The Ochopee Post Office, about 55 miles from Dade Corners.
A
favorite stop of shutter-snapping European tourists, this eight-foot, four-inch
by seven-foot, three-inch building is run by postmaster Nanette Watson, a six-year
veteran and Ochopee native. Watson sorts the mail for more than 900 residents
from Jerome to Shark Valley, which is delivered by a lone carrier with a route
that stretches 132 miles across three counties.
Watson
loves her job, despite the sometimes intrusive wildlife.
''We
used to have pygmies [rattlesnakes] in here really bad till we redid the floor,''
Watson said nonchalantly. ``Snakes, spiders, ants, rats -- that's just part of
the job. But I'm not crazy about flying palmetto bugs.''
For
the record, Watson has never seen the Skunk Ape. However, a likely place to look
might be the . . .
The Big Cypress Bend Boardwalk, about 65 miles from Dade Corners.
Here
is a 6/10-mile wooden walkway through a dark and mysterious-looking swamp where
there's the potential for observing not only the swamp's Sasquatch, but gators,
black bear, pileated woodpecker, several varieties of wading birds, even otters.
Many of the larger tree trunks are encircled by the boughs of strangler figs,
which look like squiggly wooden snakes.
The
strangler fig once was famously misunderstood by a New York City journalist who
thought his guide said ''strangler pig'' and kept an all-night vigil for a tree-dwelling
predator intent on throttling him in his sleep.
Nearing
the end of the sparsely settled portion of the Trail just before the outskirts
of Naples is . . .
Collier-Seminole State Park, 20200 E. Tamiami Trail, Naples, about 73 ½
miles from Dade Corners.
Here
you can camp, hike and bike beneath a thick canopy of royal palms, gumbo limbo,
and Jamaican dogwood, or stroll a boardwalk through a mangrove swamp that ends
overlooking a salt marsh.
You
can also launch a boat, canoe or kayak and go fishing.
But
to truly appreciate all that you have seen in your Trail trek, take a good long
look at the peculiar mechanical contraption just past the ranger station. It's
a walking dredge that helped dig the highway out of the swamp back in the day
-- now designated a historic mechanical engineering landmark.
You
can thank 1920s Trail investor Barron Collier, for whom the park (and the county)
are named, for your quick and easy drive back to Miami.