Klondike Beach Trail
Oak Hill, Florida
Apollo Beach
07 17 2020
5:25 PM EST
28°50'17"N 80°45'48"W
82° F, 27.7° C
78% RH
E 5 mph
Coastal Beach, Hammock, Mudflats, Mangroves
Patterns of land use: National Park
We pass hammocks and coastal strands, surrounding mangroves, and mudflats along an undeveloped stretch of coastline. We are on our bikes, making our way to the last boardwalk on the North End of Apollo Beach. The road ends at a roundabout. To our right is a boat launch. Down a steep, concrete path, it stops at a wooden roadblock.
Walking our bikes up a slight embankment, our wheels crunch across a beach of oyster shells lined with tiny crabs. Large pieces of driftwood emerge from the water. A path alternates from grass to sand and becomes dense as it winds and curves. The brush on each side becomes too tall; we no longer see past it. The sand is too thick in places and we must walk our bikes. The shrub offers no canopy or shade as we continue to ride in the 82-degree heat, looking for a clearing to the beach. The trail takes us closer and farther from the sound of the water as it winds.
We are now 1.5 miles away from the boat ramp entrance. Hungry and hot, we prop our umbrella on a large piece of granite and eat a picnic lunch of mixed olives, turkey on bread, and a handful of cherries. Surrounded by sea grapes and palmetto, we can hear waves breaking. The undergrowth is so thick that we still cannot reach the shore. We search the spikey palm leaves and prickly-pear cactus plants for a path.
Walking our bikes up a slight embankment, our wheels crunch across a beach of oyster shells lined with tiny crabs. Large pieces of driftwood emerge from the water. A path alternates from grass to sand and becomes dense as it winds and curves. The brush on each side becomes too tall; we no longer see past it. The sand is too thick in places and we must walk our bikes. The shrub offers no canopy or shade as we continue to ride in the 82-degree heat, looking for a clearing to the beach. The trail takes us closer and farther from the sound of the water as it winds.
We are now 1.5 miles away from the boat ramp entrance. Hungry and hot, we prop our umbrella on a large piece of granite and eat a picnic lunch of mixed olives, turkey on bread, and a handful of cherries. Surrounded by sea grapes and palmetto, we can hear waves breaking. The undergrowth is so thick that we still cannot reach the shore. We search the spikey palm leaves and prickly-pear cactus plants for a path.
We ride another half mile and spot another clearing. Crossing a fallen tree over a stream, we notice the sea grape and palmetto are less thick here. We press through slowly, tapping and swaying our umbrella to alert any hidden wildlife. The palms scratch our legs; we push through despite the discomfort.
Sea oats line the dunes as the brush gives way to sand; we’ve reached the beach. The water is an intense deep blue. Seahawks and pelicans fly low, scanning the shore for food. The shoreline stretches for miles, just water, dunes, and sand; we are alone. We spread our towels in the hot sand. Suddenly, a shark rolls in the surf. We run to capture a photo, laughing to conceal our fear at how close he was to us in the breaking waves.
We relax for several hours until it is time to listen. We record the sound of the waves and the wind. The stop and start of cicadas is rythmic. We hear several birds we cannot see. A rainbow appears overhead as we walk toward Mosquito Lagoon. We watch a Great Egret sitting in the distance as it begins to drizzle. We are hot and tired as we begin to ride. Eager to get home, we keep our eyes on the distant horizon.
Sea oats line the dunes as the brush gives way to sand; we’ve reached the beach. The water is an intense deep blue. Seahawks and pelicans fly low, scanning the shore for food. The shoreline stretches for miles, just water, dunes, and sand; we are alone. We spread our towels in the hot sand. Suddenly, a shark rolls in the surf. We run to capture a photo, laughing to conceal our fear at how close he was to us in the breaking waves.
We relax for several hours until it is time to listen. We record the sound of the waves and the wind. The stop and start of cicadas is rythmic. We hear several birds we cannot see. A rainbow appears overhead as we walk toward Mosquito Lagoon. We watch a Great Egret sitting in the distance as it begins to drizzle. We are hot and tired as we begin to ride. Eager to get home, we keep our eyes on the distant horizon.