Fish Hawk Creek (North) Nature Preserve, Lithia
In the mood for an afternoon trek in the woods, but not wanting to drive any further than I had to, I consulted Google Maps and found that a nearby spot can be found at the Lithia Springs Fish Hawk Creek (North) Nature Preserve. That’s a big name for a little plot of land nestled among the affluent Fishhawk Ranch developments.
There are also a lot of features for this little plot of land. Aside from the preserve, Lithia Springs Conservation Park is a Hillsborough County regional park leased from the Mosaic Phosphate Company that offers gator-free swimming in the clear 72-degree spring fed waters, hiking, camping, pavilions, grills and a playground for the kiddies.
We weren’t much for public bathing and we have a grill at home, so we decided to check out the trail. (Maybe we’ll hit the swings and slides afterward). My new favorite resource, Florida Hikes!, hadn’t yet covered it. I later googled “Fishhawk Creek Nature Preserve” and found a PDF map on the county’s website
Fish Hawk Creek Nature Preserve North
3931 Lithia Springs Road
Lithia, FL 33547
Phone: (813) 672-7876
Hours: Daily Sunrise to Sunset
Fees: $2.00 parking at Lithia Springs Park
https://www.hillsboroughcounty.org/en/locations/fish-hawk-creek-preserve
Bureaucracy being what it is there’s a mishmash of names, designations, and departments, making it difficult to find a simple resource for information. However, at the trailhead, there was a kiosk with a map to photograph. Charge your phone before the trip, though civilization is never farther than a 30-minute walk in either direction.
The trail isn’t really in Lithia Springs Park at all, it’s only accessed from there. To the left of the ranger station–where you pay your $2–is a parking lot. The kiosk and trailhead are in the south-west corner of the lot, spitting distance from the gate. The trail is inside the Fishhawk Creek Nature Preserve (North), a wooded region hemmed in by the Alafia River and Fishhawk Creek to the north and west, and the backyards of the Fishhawk Ranch housing communities to the south and east.
So, I shot a snap of the map and we walked onto the trail that begins as an open bit of pine-dotted scrub with sumac and prickly pear that curves right and into the now familiar Florida woods of live oaks, water oaks, maples and sabal palm over a mix of shrubs and saw palmetto. Soon we came to the banks of the Alafia River at a bend just downstream from the Lithia Springs basin.
While Christa stuck to the trail, I dipped down to the water’s edge to snap some pics of the cypress and palms clinging to the rocky shore. Water pooled in the natural basins of the pockmarked rock that clustered at the bank and formed little islands in the river. In the center of the river’s path a lone cypress rose like a woody Orthanc, its russet bell-bottom base firmly rooted to the river bed. I hopped down and clambered my way along the river’s south bank while Christa shadowed from the grassy trail.
Eventually, I surfaced where the trail grew a short spur past the first marker post. Christa had called down to me that there was a bridge in the path. We doubled back on the spur and continued on the main path crossing the very nice and substantial bridge (made by the York Bridge Company–they make nice looking bridges) over a sandy-bottomed crystal clear tributary unmarked on either Google Maps or the HCFL park map. I suspect this is the Little Fish Hawk Creek. Either the river or the trail was misinterpreted on the map, perhaps. We passed marker #1 and crossed the bridge.
I made a note to return and poke around the water some more when I won’t be slowing down my wife–maybe trace that creek. An entire day can be spent combing the banks and walking the river.
Across the bridge lay pine flats and palmetto. A wide swath was mowed and led around a bend into a sunlit trace bordered with ancient eldritch oaks dripping Spanish moss into the lesser hardwoods and underbrush. The canopy grew shaded as we passed the second marker and the path narrowed as the habitat became decidedly jungle.
The trail bent to meet the river again and a little clearing revealed a worn slope down to a nice sandy shore along the passing Alafia. It had the makings of a nice little picnic spot had we brought lunch.
As we continued we saw the first signs of the civilization that surrounds the park. A pale two-story house with simulated terracotta shingle loomed behind some tall trees and palm fronds. The trail continued with the housing to our left when we came to the third marker and a fork. We stayed to the left and continued until we reached the fourth marker. Here we veered right to stay in the wilderness.
Dead limbs and leaning pines rose above the sprawling growth along the wide grassy trail. The sky was wide open here and the sun radiated. I wish I had brought my hat–I need to get used to these hot and sunny Februarys. The birds were in full chorus as the trail opened into a small meadow at marker #5, our first turn in the rectangular loop.
The trail here was more mowed lawn than dirt and as wide as a twin deck riding mower. It became sandy soil carpeted with crunchy leaves as the sparse canopy returned and in thirty or so yards we reached the sixth marker and turned left to make the second long leg of the loop. A post and barbed wire fence ran the length, broken in places. The trail continued as a sandy two-rut path sparsely grassed through mixed trees and brush. The verge contained prickly pear, plantain, and parched grasses.
The path narrowed and widened, never less than two yards, as it ran a nearly straight shot along the fence line. It was a bright and hot walk with little cover, the verge opening wide with ground-hugging scrub growth. A stir began in the tall, dense brush to our left. Christa was, for the first time, trailing behind. I stopped, the rustling grew louder and the culprit grew bigger, at least in my mind. I expected a large beast to come crashing into the open–a deer, boar, bobcat or (gasp), a cougar. Out stumbled an armadillo. Those palmetto leaves and scrub grasses really amplify the sounds of rustling critters.
The little-armored tank poked about in the scrub until it realized I was there, whereupon it beat its little feet across the trail and disappeared into the treeline. I didn’t realize, or maybe had forgotten, that armadillos existed in Florida. I’ve always thought the North American version to be Texans. It turns out they are all over the south and spreading as far north as South Carolina to Nebraska and Indiana. The nine-banded armadillo has no natural predators, save for the steel-belted radial.
They look cute enough, but it was a smart thing to only to capture it digitally. Apparently, armadillos are the source of a growing leprosy outbreak in Florida. They are also known to carry encephalitis and other pathogens, so it’s best to keep your distance, as you should with all wildlife.
The sighting was to be the climax of our hike. We completed the final leg of the loop and made our way back up the trail to the entrance. We were pretty beat, too. This trail can make for an exertive hike, including all my bank exploring and rock hopping. We collapsed into the sporty little runabout tired yet enriched. This was a great trail to experience the many different types of terrain and plant communities. The river and creeks enhance the experience and offer a great opportunity to spot wading birds and reptiles, though I saw neither on this trip.
As near as Lithia Springs and the Fish Hawk Creek (North) Nature Preserve is to our home, we (or I) will be making future visits again, to be sure. I can only imagine the many wildflowers to be seen when the spring arrives. The next time, perhaps we will pack a picnic lunch and enjoy a sit on the riverbank. Of course, then we will have no room for tacos and drinks at nearby YOLO Taco. You can’t do it all, but you can try to do it in as many ways possible. We’ll have to give it a shot, at least every couple of months.