Welcome to the land that evolution forgot (and insurance companies fear)
I know it may seem like I missed the point of the article by starting on the other end on a negative. But who’s going to ruin my fun? You? Nah, doubtful.
In this guide
- Take an airboat tour – ride like the wind, scream like a baby
- Visit the Shark Valley Observation Tower – climb, sweat and question reality
- Check out the HM69 Nike Missile Base – cold war weirdness in a swamp
- Look for the skunk ape – Florida’s Bigfoot, but with more B.O.
- Kayak the mangroves at Nine Mile Pond – peace, terror and repeat
That said, the first thing you shouldn’t do in the Florida Everglades is poke the wildlife. That means, in essence, don’t get friendly with the gators. Following that same train of logic, don’t get friendly with anything. That manatee? It has a switchblade under its fin.
“Dude… we’re functioning human beings… with enough neuron activity to know that.”
Sure. But the collective IQ of the herd only moves as fast as the slowest—and let’s just say that particular caboose is often dragging knuckles, sunburnt and holding a GoPro. And sometimes selling pyramid schemes based on Tupperware.
Case in point: A few years back, a tourist – clearly still metabolizing a dubious cocktail from Señor Frog’s – made international headlines by attempting to ride a crocodile in Cancun. No, that’s not a metaphor.
He literally saw the reptile and yelled, “Geronimo!” His goal? Instagram glory maybe impress some Señorita. The aftermath? Emergency surgery and an intimate encounter with the underside of evolution. A very intimate one.
In the Everglades, everything wants to kill everything. Look, it’s not personal. It’s just Florida. The gators have beef with the sharks. The snakes are foreign mercenaries with gang affiliations. The mosquitoes are walking biological weapons.
There are smugglers, haunted trees and manatees with revenge arcs. Not to mention the Skunk Ape (our local cryptid, a Wookiee with PTSD). Even the plants have an attitude. Poison ivy here looks like it’s been doing steroids, has rage issues, and a lawyer.
And yet… you still want to go. Heck, you must go. Why? Because it’s so fun. Because there is nowhere on Earth like the Florida Everglades. It’s a prehistoric, humid, squelching, hypnotic wilderness that doesn’t care if you survive, but will reward you deeply if you try.
The Everglades: a swamp with a resume
Contrary to what out-of-staters might believe, the Everglades is not “just a swamp.” It’s a slow-moving river around 60 miles wide and over 100 miles long. Technically called a “sheet flow”, it moves south from Lake Okeechobee at the speed of a geriatric tortoise, eventually trickling into Florida Bay. But that’s not the whole story.
This place was nearly destroyed – twice. First, by developers who thought “wetlands” was a dirty word. But also, by water mismanagement so bad it made the Cuyahoga River fires look like happy accidents.
But somehow, the Glades fought back. And now it’s a UNESCO World Heritage site, a wetland of international importance, and one of the few spots left on the planet where you can still get properly lost, bitten, or spiritually reborn.
And, if you ever want to get rid a body, Dexter style, this place will do it for you in a minute. Wait, why that bizarre detour? Well, we have a life outside of the keyboard. Some of us have to make a living in this economy. Anyway, back to the program.
Now that we’ve established you’re basically visiting Jurassic Park if it were run by Danny DeVito’s character from “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia” – here are the best things to do – assuming you want to make it back alive.
1. Take an airboat tour – ride like the wind, scream like a baby
Let’s get this one out of the way first. Yes, it’s a little touristy. And of course, it’s loud. But have you ever skimmed across alligator-infested waters on a floating lawn chair powered by a jet engine?
Yes, re-read that line above. Oh and the captain of said contraption? Missing his front teeth – caused by issues with “substance” when he was young – and with a death wish.
It’s awesome. The airboat is Florida’s greatest invention besides Publix sushi and Red Bull. You’ll spot gators, herons, snakes and a guy named “Bud” who swears he once saw an alien in the sawgrass.
Oh and even downed planes. Downed planes? Yes, from commercial airline tragedies to propeller planes that were discarded by their pilots cause “the cargo” was spotty and the Federales were chasing them.
Where: Coopertown, Everglades Safari Park, Gator Park, take your pick
Tip: Bring ear protection and a healthy fear of propellers.
2. Visit the Shark Valley Observation Tower – climb, sweat and question reality
Want a panoramic view of the Everglades that doesn’t involve a drone? Shark Valley’s 65-foot tower gives you a full 360-degree look at what the Earth looked like before air conditioning.
You can bike the 15-mile loop or take a tram. Along the way, you’ll pass gators sunbathing like they own the place – which they do – and birds that look like they escaped from a medieval bestiary.
It’s weird and fascinating and all the while you’ll ask why is it called “Shark Valley?” Cause nature likes overkill. The Valley feeds into Shark River and Little Shark estuaries. There you’ll find bull sharks, lemons sharks, and blacktip sharks. So, to recap- gators, tarantulas, snakes and sharks.
Where: Everglades National Park, Shark Valley entrance
Tip: Go early. Heatstroke is real and there’s no vending machine at the top.
3. Check out the HM69 Nike Missile Base – cold war weirdness in a swamp
Tucked deep inside Everglades National Park is one of the strangest leftovers of American paranoia: a Cold War missile base meant to shoot down Soviet bombers from Cuba. It’s called HM69, and it’s exactly what you think it is. That’s right, nuclear-grade history hidden in gator territory.
Massive underground bunkers, blast-proof hangars, and rusting military remnants sitting where panthers now roam. It’s surreal. It’s eerie. And yes, they give tours.
Where: Ernest Coe Visitor Center, then deeper into the Glades
Tip: Ask about the bunkers. And don’t touch the lizards. They bite.
4. Look for the skunk ape – Florida’s Bigfoot, but with more B.O.
We have a Big Foot! Sasquatch, but hairier, sweatier and with opinions on stone crab pricing and United States immigration policy.
The Skunk Ape Research Headquarters is a roadside attraction/head scratching something. Yes, that is the best description available “something” It’s run by people who may or may not be cryptids themselves. They have photos, stories, hair samples and a suspiciously enthusiastic gift shop.
Even if you don’t believe it, it’s worth a visit for the sheer volume of strangeness packed into one place.
Where: Ochopee, FL – the smallest post office in America is next door
Tip: Ask for Dave. Just trust me on this.
5. Kayak the mangroves at Nine Mile Pond – peace, terror and repeat
If you really want to feel the pulse of the Everglades, drop the motorized toys and grab a paddle. The mangrove tunnels of Nine Mile Pond are tight, spine tingling and silent except for the occasional bird screech or splash of something you hope isn’t a python.
This is Everglades intimacy. It’s muggy, slow and gorgeous. And if you listen closely, you’ll swear the swamp is whispering: “jump into the water… It’s nice.” The swamp is a real, well, you know what.
Where: Nine Mile Pond, Everglades National Park
Tip: Don’t wear cologne. Bugs love cologne.
Why you go
You go to the Everglades to feel something raw and unedited. To feel like Tarzan or Indian Jones. You go to sweat through your soul. You go because you’re tired of things making sense.
The Everglades will not coddle you. But if you let it, it’ll crack you open and fill the space with sun, stink, sound, and swamp.
And he, if you survive, you get to brag that you stared down a gator, dodged dengue and out walked a man in camo shorts yelling about “the lizard people.”
Which, down here, is basically a rite of passage.
Have you been to Everglades National Park? Let us know how it went in the comments!