Swamp tromp
Take a walk to get a gator’s-eye view of the Florida Everglades
Note: Access by land to Everglades National Park is closed indefinitely due to the new coronavirus pandemic, and discretionary travel for Americans is discouraged at this time. This article may inspire a future trip once it’s appropriate to travel again.
Blades of sawgrass swish as your legs brush up against them. Whirligig beetles skim the surface of the clear, cool water. A breeze kicks up, prompting the cypress trees to clatter. ❚ It’s a peaceful scene that Allyson Gantt has encountered frequently in her 20-plus years working in the Everglades National Park. It’s what she calls a swamp tromp or slough slog. And it’s one of her all-time favorite ways to show folks around the largest subtropical wilderness in the continental United States. ❚ “As you step off the road into the clear water, it’s always surprisingly cool, just enough to take your breath away for a second,” she says. “Then there’s the squishy feel as your feet sink into the muck. The soil here is not very deep and there’s no quicksand, so no fear of that. The biggest thing you have to watch out for are the sharp spires of limestone rock that stick out of the soil.”
If you are the outdoorsy type, chances are, this sounds quite appealing. But even the most adventurous souls worry about what else is lurking in the marsh. Likewise, it comes as no surprise that the first question Gantt often gets is: “What about the gators?”
“Generally speaking, we do the walks in shallow water, and the alligators are typically near some deeper water,” she explains. “Occasionally we see them in the culverts or a canal near the road where we enter.
“Once, when I was in a very typical cypress dome with a deep hole in the center, we saw a good size alligator who was clearly the resident of the deep hole in the center of the dome. Other times, late in the dry season, I’ve seen alligators left in the few patches of water that remain. We tromped by in the mud without disturbing the alligator in the water hole.”
Consider this, too: She has led 100plus tours through the swamp and has spotted gators fewer than 10 times. The takeaway is: Don’t shy away from this experience because of possible gator sightings.
As you walk further through the swamp, you’ll eventually find those cypress domes where the soil changes to a dark brown color and trees are blanketed with spiky bromeliads.
“Many people describe the dome as having a cathedral-like effect, with a feeling of serenity and reverence,” she says. “There’s just something magical about the place with the clear dark water below and the soft wispy cypress needles above.”
It’s an experience, Gantt says, that most anyone can appreciate. Over the years, she has led small groups and public tours of up to 30 people, but her favorite type of group to lead is school children.
“The squeals and screams as they enter the cool water and sink, just a little bit, into the mud nearly echoes through the usual silence of the cypress dome,” she says. “By the end of the hike though, most of the kids are nearly falling in the water on purpose. It’s such a novel activity that adults still remember their experiences as a fifth grader 20, 30, even 40 years later.”
Peggy Farren, a Naples, Floridabased photographer, often joins friends for a swamp walk in the hopes of finding the extremely rare ghost orchid.
“Where we find the ghost orchids is breathtakingly beautiful,” she says. “It’s so quiet and peaceful and so gorgeous to look at.”
She was anxious about gators during her first trek back in 2016, but many swamp walks later, she is far beyond that fear, and is even OK trudging through waist-deep water these days.
“I am now addicted,” Farren says. “Going into the swamp is truly getting away from it all. The hikes are not too strenuous since you can’t walk very fast. It’s just so great to be out in nature and enjoying its beauty.”