Aldermans Ford County Park
Up north, keeping the Holiday season involves bringing a little life into our homes to counter the drab blahs of winter. Holly sprigs, pine boughs, and poinsettias fill the home with greens and reds while outside bare, black branches scrape at the gray skies.
In subtropical Florida these traditions are unnecessary–we need not huddle indoors under tacked up bits of evergreen. For our first Christmas in the Sunshine State, we would be exchanging the cold and bleak December for the balmy, lush jungle. To inaugurate our arrival, a warm winter hike under tiny-leaved oaks, around spiky palmettos, and through waving ferns was in order.
Our mountain of moving boxes was slowly but surely shrinking to a molehill. We were settling in, arranging furniture, and waiting for the cable to be connected. Nothing available until the new year? Really, Frontier? Our data plans were going to take a beating. It’s a good thing we decided to keep our DVD’s. Now we need to find a place to store them.
On top of everything, the Holidays had arrived. Our move to Florida was bookended by Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now that we were nested, we needed to embrace the spirit and get decorated.
Christa broke out the multi-colored lights and strung the exterior. A strand of garland was draped and the stockings were hung by the breakfast bar with care. And we bought a real Christmas tree, imported from Michigan. Ouch, Florida–that hurt the wallet. No tree farms in a State covered in pine flats? A wreath for the door completed the task.
We were brimming with yuletide gaiety when we collapsed on the couch and didn’t stir for a few days. It struck me that we needed to get some fresh air and explore some of the local wilderness. I hadn’t been for a walk in the woods since…it’s been so long I can’t remember—but it was at least since summer. And now we had the luxury of leafy trees and warm breezes in the wintry month of December. We’d be foolish not to take advantage of our new surroundings.
Christa, still a bit wary of the dangerous critters lurking in the Florida wilderness looked up our options and decided on Alderman’s Ford Conservation Park. It was only 30 minutes from our door and had the least complicated driving directions for newcomers to the Brandon area. So, we filled the water bottles and set out in the sporty little runabout for the patch of green on the Alafia River.
Alderman’s Ford Conservation Park
100 Alderman’s Ford Park Dr.
Plant City, FL, FL 33567
Phone: (813) 757-3801
Spring/Summer: 8 a.m. – 7 p.m.
Fall/Winter: 8 a.m. – 6 p.m.
Fees: $2 per vehicle. Up to 8 people per vehicle. Rentals are extra.
www.hillsboroughcounty.org/en/locations/aldermans-ford-conservation-park
Okay, there’s more than a patch of green on the Alafia and on most of Hillsboro County for that matter. But we were new residents in a sprawling suburban mesh of roads, shopping centers, and deed-restricted developments. Being wedged in all that convenience diminished the surrounding nature. I longed to get lost in the wilderness.
Stradling Rt. 39 just north of Lithia Pinecrest Rd, Alderman’s Ford Conservation Park contains the conjunction of the north and south prongs of the Alafia River. Not to be confused with Alderman’s Ford Nature Preserve three miles to the north-west, Alderman’s Ford Conservation Park is operated by Hillsborough County and offers picnic areas, a paved trail, and a wonderful boardwalk over and around the woods and wetlands of the Alafia.
Long after the Seminoles and other Native American tribes made this area home, James Alderman settled into Lithia to establish a cattle ranch in 1848. He carved a path through the banks of the Alafia River for easier crossing by horse and cart. As was the case in those early days, to the builder goes the acknowledgment, so the pass became known as Alderman’s Ford.
These days, the river is traversed by a large concrete and steel structure that bears Rt. 39 and is probably named for a politician or military officer. James Alderman is long since passed, but the Conservation Park and Nature Preserve still bear his name. Of course, he too dabbled in politics, so…
Nearing the park, we passed by a turnoff to our left where two timbers with a blue canoe lintel read Alderman’s Ford Park. This was the entrance to the canoe and kayak launch ramp–a very nice paved access to the Alafia River. I’m told by my aunt and uncle that a pleasant day can be had paddling from here to Lithia Springs and we plan to put our kayaks in some time soon. We continued on to the main entrance just ahead on our right.
We pulled through the main gate and paid the very reasonable $2 entrance fee. The drive led us to the parking and picnic area. Massive oak trees shaded a grassy lot of pavilions and horseshoe pits (do Floridians even quoit, brah?). The paved trail begins where the drive ended.
The comparatively bright picnic area contrasted the dark mouth of the trail. The dry woods were dense with underbrush and the oaks and palms knitted a lacy canopy that diffused the sunlight. I was only a little disappointed to discover that the path was paved. Though I prefer hiking on dirt trails, it was a nice leisurely stroll and Christa enjoyed it. It crossed my mind that my grandfather would be able to manage this on his mobility scooter.
Had I delved more deeply into my research, I would have learned that there were primitive trails all over this park and I saw a few signs indicating an entrance here and there. I later discovered the Florida Hikes! website, a seemingly fantastic resource that I plan to utilize from now on. The particular trail they describe for this park is a short loop behind the nature center, which we overlooked.
Nature Center? Hmm. The park’s own website doesn’t mention a nature center.
My spirits brightened when we turned a bend and encountered a magnificent laminated-wood arch that bridged our first foot crossing of the river. It was an impressive work of engineering that harmonized well with the natural surroundings. The path continued south and around the west portion of the park then under the overpass where Rt. 39 crosses the Alafia River.
Gnarly oaks with thick, tiny leaves dangled hanks of Spanish moss over the underbrush of spikey palmetto, lanky shrubs, and poison ivy. Red and green patches of lichen decorate like sylvan tags the trunks and stout branches of the hardwoods. The dense palm fronds made woody percussions in the breeze. Spindly longleaf pines penetrated the webwork ceiling in search of sunlight.
Okay, Thoreau, back to earth. At least on a macadam path, I won’t trip as often with my head in the boughs.
The trail loops around the Canoe Launch before returning to the same underpass, on the opposite river bank. From here it winds along the south prong of the Alafia and crosses over at a point where the north and south fork draw together.
We arrived at the entrance to the boardwalk, which leads a winding loop around both prongs before they meet at the Alafia headwater. The boardwalk can be bypassed for a short hike, or included for an extended walk that brings the entire excursion to around an hour and a half at a leisurely pace–with frequent stops to smell the flowers.
The shady canopy was maintained as the Hardwood hammock of cabbage palm and live oak gave way to Hydric hammock of palm, water oak, and cypress. These types of natural communities were foreign to us and really intrigued me. I’m struggling to know things like the differences between mesic and xeric hammocks, sandhills and scrubs, but I’m learning.
A most enjoyable feature of the boardwalk was the beautiful botanicals–bright green resurrection fern decorated the thick craggy boughs of the live oaks; red, green, and yellow air plants clung to the hardwood limbs and the clefts of cabbage palms. A rainbow of flowering blooms we’ve yet to become acquainted with decorated the shady canopy and the lush underbrush.
The diminutive prongs of the Alafia varied from crystal waters gliding shallow over khaki sands to tea-brown where cypress knees projected from still waters like clusters of faerie islands. In the deeper portions, a shadow or several slipped through the sunlit spaces, a hint of fin and tail.
From the boardwalk, we heard plenty of wildlife but saw little. There was a large train of tourists just ahead of us and they were a having a great time chatting and laughing–not exactly behavior conducive to spotting timid woodland creatures. Though, they didn’t seem to phase the Ibis and limpkins.
The rustle of anole lizards scattering through the bracken accented the background chorus of birds. From both the paved path and the boards, we spotted a few turtles sunning on logs in the river. They slipped with a plunk into the tobacco depths as our clunky steps drew near. On the entire boardwalk section, I failed to take more than two or three pictures. My iPhone lens is clouded on the inside and takes bad pics. I may need to look for an alternative.
We reached a point where the boardwalk came to a sudden end. Damage from Hurricane Irma had broken the loop and we were forced return the way we arrived, which added probably ten minutes to the trek (five minutes if you’re not pokey.) The tourists hung about waiting for the caboose to catch up to the engine and we quickened our pace to put some quiet between us.
Off of the boardwalk, we rejoined the paved loop trail. Airy pine flats appeared as we left behind the meandering rivers. We crossed the north fork of the Alafia and continued westward through the longleafs and towering royal palms that eclipsed the sun as we passed, exiting back into the picnic area.
We skipped the visitor’s center, though it was probably a convenient source of all the information I was lacking–and still am–in regards to other trails and maps. But our bellies were growling, so we hopped in the sporty little runabout to find some dinner.
On the way home, we stopped at Taco YOLO, a well designed, independent, Tex-Mex restaurant and bar that shows signs of being an incubator for expansion. We had been here before for lunch and thought it would make for a nice light refuel. Truthfully, we wanted to take advantage of the ability to sit outside and sip cool drinks in December.
I enjoyed their fish tacos and Christa loves the quesadillas. Both times we visited, we had excellent food and good service. There were a few hiccups and lags but the overall experience was good and we will be returning for more vittles and margaritas.
The place is very new and I can spot the signs of a staff that are well trained, well-intentioned, but struggling (successfully) under the surge of business. They are surrounded by a dense and teaming community with Taco Bell being the closest thing to immediate competition. Everyone seems to care about what they are doing and I’m sure they will quickly become a reliable destination for indulging a southwest craving. We will visit again and I’ll write a full review with pictures.
As we sat on the TacoYOLO patio, bellies full and waiting for our check, I had to laugh at our position. Only a month or two prior I was on the verge of setting fire to our home and running for the hills. Renovations and relocation can take their toll on the sanest of minds, but we had come through it–sore and weary, but intact. And now we had just enjoyed a relaxing walk through the woods and a delicious outdoor meal in the balmy dusk of a mid-December day.
It had required a lot of toil and sacrifice and there was more in store to maintain our course, but our maturing toward simpler pleasures and appreciating what we had was already showing its benefits.
Jeez, it’s amazing what a little fresh air, tacos, and a cold beer will do for a guy’s outlook on life.
We returned home well aired, well exercised, and well fed. The outdoors is great for sweeping out the pains of life, only to replace them with the pains of the trail.
Just after we got home, the timer triggered the Christmas lights. I loaded a Rankin/Bass holiday special into the player and we settled back into the couch. My thoughts returned to the palm trees rising from the cypress swamps.
The flat terrain of the Florida trails and wilderness are different from the rocky elevations of the Appalachians or the banks of the Susquehanna with tributaries and cascades shaded by broad leaves. It’s still a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, though my calves are going to shrink a bit from lack of inclines and descents. And they are just as enjoyable and visually rewarding. I’ve seen more snakes in the last week than I’ve ever seen in Pennsylvania and hope springs eternal of spotting a crocogator on a hike.
In the years leading to our move south, hazy images would half-form in my mind of what our Florida lives would be like. Our days off might be spent at a nearby beach, or maybe we’d live on the beach in the cheapest shack we could find. We’d lounge under palm trees watching the setting sun with frozen rum drinks in our hands, while ‘60s tiki jazz hummed low in the background.
In reality, until this venture into the local jungle, most of the palm trees and islands I’ve yet experienced are in parking lots and on highways. It’s not the beach scene that I had imagined, but then the trip isn’t complete. We were only just walkin’ out the door.
I must say, for our first trek in the Florida woods, Alderman’s ford Conservation Park was an uplifting and pleasant experience. We certainly got our exercise, but it wasn’t very strenuous. It’s a great way to get your ten thousand steps, immersed in nature.
The paved path makes the trail convenient for more visitors than a rough trail would, so the serene environment was occasionally punctuated by human voices, but this wasn’t often enough to be a nuisance. For newbies to the State who might be apprehensive of the bitey critters, it is a nice introductory trail to help get acclimated to the wild.
The scenery was picturesque–even the underpass with the contrasting pattern of light and shadow cast by its sandbag structure in the sinking sun. I can’t wait to see how the palette expands when the spring blossoms arrive. The proximity to home and the few campsites on-premise make it a convenient destination for early morning wildlife sightings, too.
I later discovered a PDF online for an Alafia River Corridor Trail brochure. It features a map of several trails adjacent to the northeast of Alderman’s Ford Conservation Park. I found no official info on the Alafia River Corridor Preserve with a cursory Google search, but this article gives a nice overview. I’ll have to make plans to visit these trails soon.
Thanks for reading!