Lettuce Lake
Once again proposing to my wife that we venture into nature on our day off, she quickly suggested Lettuce Lake. What sounds like a 1930’s screwball euphemism for a tub full of cash and probably gin is in truth a natural treasure in a floodplain of the Hillsborough River. Christa regularly passes signs for it on her way to work and had filed it away as a sometime destination. Now seemed the perfect sometime.
A semi- to fully-aquatic habitat, a star feature of Lettuce Lake is the wooden boardwalks that wind their way from pinewood flats and xeric hammock through cypress and hardwood swamp forests around the brink of the crescent lake that formed in the lowland depressions. Stoked by her enthusiasm for an outdoor stroll, I rolled full steam ahead without investigating and hoped for a pleasant surprise. We hopped into the sporty little runabout and took off for Crunchy Water Pond–that is Lettuce Lake.
Lettuce Lake Park
6920 East Fletcher Avenue
Tampa, FL 33637
Phone: (813) 987-6204
Spring/Summer Hours
8:00 a.m. – 7:00 p.m.
Fall/Winter Hours
8:00 a.m. – 6:00 p.m.
Entrance Fee
$2 per vehicle. Up to 8 people per vehicle. Rentals are extra.
www.hillsboroughcounty.org/locations/lettuce-lake-park
We had left so quickly that I didn’t bring my light pack. I wouldn’t need it—this was a literal and figurative walk in the park. Almost half of the trails are boardwalk or paved and the park sits adjacent to the north Tampa neighborhood of University. We shouldn’t get lost and if an emergency arose we were five minutes from a galaxy of healthcare facilities.
We accessed Lettuce Lake Park from E Fletcher Ave. and paid the standard two-buck county park entrance fee.
The trail system is a quadruple loop—a slumped four-leaf clover formed from the boardwalk and rough trail with a paved path circuiting throughout. The boardwalk portion is jug handled into the system via the rough trail in the south-west and the paved trail in the northeast. Depending on where you park (there are six lots) access to each trail is easily accessible.
We planned to do the wetlands boardwalk first and if we still felt up to it, walk the dry woods path afterward. We wound up getting a satisfying eyeful and enough exercise from the wetlands that we got a raincheck on the rest. One could complete the whole system in an hour, but if you’re pokey and meandering like me, the boardwalk alone could take all afternoon.
Guided tours led by park rangers are available on Saturdays and Sundays for $5
We picked up the boardwalk between the number 8 and 9 picnic areas. It kicked off with the tranquil scenery of a cypress swamp, Their ruddy brown knees poked through an emerald mat of duckweed on the still, murky water. The musty scent of cypress and humus clung to the air. This being February, the humidity was low and the lack of mosquitos was a treat.
The elevated walk carried us over islands of blue sky reflected amidst the mottled green and brown. We took our time ambling and ogling. There was a decent amount of visitors for a Thursday afternoon, though there was plenty of quiet and distance between each group. We rarely passed or needed to be passed by anyone heading our direction and only met people heading the other way.
We passed a spur that we decided to explore on our way back. As we rounded a corner to see a few turtles sunning on a log a dark-winged silhouette caught my eye—my first sighting of an Anhinga, the snake bird. It was partially obscured perched on a low branch drying its wings, outstretched like a fallen angel. I had mistaken it for a cormorant until we passed an interpretive sign that explained the difference (the anhinga has a longer tail and a needle-like beak, the cormorant’s beak is hooked and he has a fat head).
An Audubon resource center with exhibits is on site. The second Saturday of each month, the Tampa Bay Audubon Society offers a free 2-hour Beginning Birding tour. Parking is $2.
I tried to snap some pics, but my poor luck with iPhone cameras gave equally poor results. I would have brought my new (used) camera, but the zoom lens it came with was useless for taking the wider framed pics I was after. I was awaiting a good price on a 50mm lens, but in the meantime, I should have brought what I had. My short-sightedness left me with missed opportunities.
My interest piqued for having seen the anhinga, I kept my eyes out for more wildlife. At this section of the walk, the river was to our right and the cypress swamps to our left. Far out a few paddlers skimmed the lake surface in kayaks and canoes. I turned my head left to scan the green-carpeted waters of the swamp when I spotted our first crocogator of the day. It was about ten feet from the walk, partially submerged among the duckweed, the two caves of its nose projecting from just above the water line. Though he was just a little guy, this was the closest sighting we’d had to a gator in the wild.
I continued my scan over the railings back and forth from the left and right sides of the walk. Purple pickerel and floating hearts decorated the ponds around shiny islands of turtles or things that looked like turtles and crocogators. On a fallen log, a mass of tiny vacant clamshells betrayed a wading bird raw bar.
As we came to a gap in the oaks the walk sprouted a spur that pierced a bright green grove of pop ash trees. At the pier’s end, a timber and steel tower rose several stories above the lake. I climbed the steps to discover commanding panoramic views of the encompassing forests, swamps, and river. Even from the substantial height, the surrounding suburban sprawl was eclipsed by the rolling green of treetops. Gee, that camera sitting at home would be nice to have right now.
As we worked our way around the walk I got a bit jealous of the folks in canoes and made yet another note to put Lettuce Lake on our list of spots to paddle our kayaks. Every turn of the walk revealed more aquatic plants and flowers, crocogators and turtles, fowl and fish. Spatterdock was added to our list of lilies and pickerel surrounding the rippling black fractals of the towering trees.
Reaching the end, rather than take the rough inland trails back to the car, we doubled back as we planned, reviewing everything at a doubled pace. All the lazy beasts were still there with a few newcomers. A deep croaking caught our attention and we peered through the foliage trying to see what gigantic frog could be making the sound when we discovered a great blue heron wading through the ash trees. Again, pics would have been nice, but only my landscape shots were (questionably) successful.
On the far bank, where the anhinga had been, I spotted a strange turtle with a glossy black shell that was severely domed, like a German helmet. At least, I think it was a turtle, or else someone’s motorcycle helmet washed down the river and up the lake. I’ve found nothing in the nature guidebooks that resembled it. I’ll do some further research at jpcycles.com.
We took the spur trail when we came to it which cut a slight serpentine from the lower tip of the flooded crescent to a stretch of the Hillsborough River upstream of the lake. The boardwalk led us through an abundance of water lilies, arrowhead, and more pickerel with the occasional ibis dipping its beak. Christa shot ahead as usual when I start dawdling about and I caught up to her at a sheltered pier off the boardwalk with benches to sit and rest a spell before continuing.
Along the last of the walk, the duckweed carpeting was full on ‘70s shag and the bright white flowers of string lilies shone like clusters of stars in a camouflage sky. I arrived at the end of the spur after poking along, leaning over the edge to catch sight of anything that might be lurking in the shadows of the deep–nothing but plants and water-striding bugs.
Christa was waiting for me on a bench beside a sign warning to not feed the owls. I almost snapped my neck glancing around for great gull-like flocks of owls waiting for a dropped french fry, but no such luck. Besides, we had no food to feed and there were no owls to eat it. I instead commenced taking pictures of the view including 1,000 shots of the same cluster of nondescript trees when I leaned on the volume button.
After a short rest, we walked the spur back to the main trail and on to the parking area. Some fearless squirrels gnawed on acorns, too busy to be bothered by us and that was it for our wildlife sightings. The excitement was walked-off and the fatigue worn-in.
We beat feet back to the car and made tracks for some cold drinks. Wawa’s to the right, they got a beverage inside. No, there really was a Wawa to the right. They’re all over Florida, now, and so is Yuengling. Which reminds me, I should search for Lord Chesterfield.
Walking along all that water got us a hankering for some seafood. Though there were some places in the area that we’d like to try, the late hour and strenuous board walking had us beat, even for a quick stop for fish and chips. Hey, that’s what would make that trail complete–a french fry shack, right at the tower. Nothin’ but fries with salt and malt vinegar. I’d get a medium and a Coke; maybe feed some owls.
We decided to find some vittles closer to home and did so beautifully with a stop at the Shell’s in Brandon. I’ll do a little write up on it soon. Stay tuned.
Lettuce Lake Park—or as I’m now calling it – Crunchy Water Park—turned out to be a fantastic destination for a leisurely stroll through a comprehensive representation of Florida’s varied natural habitats. It’s a great spot to get your riparian fill of birds of all sorts, reptiles, and a few mammals here and there. Pretty flowers and lilies abound and the rich smell of cypress and hardwood swamps permeates the air. And if you want a longer excursion, the dry trails through the pine flats and hardwood hammocks are there, too.
Crunchy Water Park is also as close as you can get to nature while staying clean and safe. No worries about mud, poison ivy, startled snakes and bounding crocogators. Being a swamp, mosquitoes might be a swarming nuisance when the weather grows hot, but as January rolled into February, they were nonexistent.
Incidentally, I’m no expert on accessibility, but it might also be a nice spot for those with limited mobility. The boardwalk could offer an opportunity for those who want to get out into nature but can’t negotiate rough trails. The decking is wide and spaced tight enough that canes and wheels should have no trouble. Call ahead to be sure I’m not giving you bad advice.
Lettuce Lake Park makes a great go-to spot for a casual stroll. It’s a perfect pick for when you want to experience a little nature and afterward hit up a nice place to eat without having to shower off the dirt and sweat and change your clothes. Pull on some clean shorts, a buttoned shirt, deck shoes, and hit the boards, followed by some fish and chips and frosty beers at your favorite restaurant. Make sure their hand cut fries—with malt vinegar. And maybe skip the deck shoes. Ahoy, polloi.
Thanks for reading.