For April (or perhaps as a belated March trip? Depends on if I get out once more this month or not), my trip was once again to the northeast. This month’s destination lay in Inverness, Florida (whose name made me regret my absence from the other Inverness I once saw on a bus tour trip around Loch Ness… But I digress), which meant that it really isn’t too far at all from the destination of our last trip. Oops!

If I didn’t 1. compulsively read road signs, and 2. know Central Florida geography passably well, though, the relative nearness of the two parks would hardly have occurred to me… Because the experience getting to the two destinations is wildly disparate.

Going to Fort Cooper up our chosen route of US 41 was an absolute delight. Of course, travel by byway is never as speedy as interstate travel, but on this route the tradeoff was exceptionally fortuitous. On our way, the traffic was light and the speed limit was high enough to enable near-interstate speeds. But the biggest plus to taking 41 up through Spring Hill, Brooksville, and Floral City was the chance to see “Old Florida.” I couldn’t take pictures of old downtown Brooksville, or the purple and fuchsia flowers growing wild, or the cute little citrus shop that lay on the edge of the road, or the border of trees in Withlacoochee State Forest … But if you’ve ever seen the alternating swamplands-and-pinelands of Florida when they’re NOT being torn down and built up with strip malls, McMansion communities, and clusters of fast food outlets, then you know what I mean.

Oddly enough, however, the ride there didn’t just invoke old memories of my Florida childhood from the late 1990s to the late 2000s. It also reminded me of Maine, though that association is probably due mostly to my own patterns of thought and feelings of adventure. Still, the combination of slight hills, light traffic, and private drives here-and-there leading into the woods did, and does, remind me of Maine.

Anyhow, the associations were pleasant, and the drive itself gave me cheer. Part of me hadn’t wanted to pack the children up alone (my husband was busy) and hazard a semi-long drive to see something new. I hadn’t wanted to arrange to meet my parents at our destination, or deal with feeding a baby when away from home for five plus hours, or act as the sole adult bastion against toddler and baby whims in a moving vehicle… But I changed my attitude about the situation as I drove along. I became content, though I still wished that my husband was with me and that we could have pretended to be very far from home, stopping at the roadside attractions and having a picnic at the recreation area in the state forest…

(It’s been way too long since I last vacationed.)

Let’s fast-forward, now, to Fort Cooper State Park itself.

As you may guess from the militaristic nature of this park’s name and its general vicinity with Dade Historic Battlefield Park, this one also has a tie-in with the Second Seminole War. However, we did not take the 1.5 miles “fort trail” at Fort Cooper, and thus I have no knowledge about what events occurred there in the 1840s. I just know that there was once a fort, and apparently it was besieged for some time (that, according to the sign talking about the trail).

Instead of exploring the historical significance of the site, our first activity to go stare at Lake Holathlikaha, which lay directly behind the bathroom. (I suppose the bathroom was technically our first stop.)

When I first wandered to the water’s edge, a small wedding party was getting pictures taken under the oak canopy, a few hundred feet away, underneath the broken shadows of the oak canopy. It was a beautiful scene, and I imagine their wedding pictures will reflect that.

What now served as a pleasant and wild backdrop was, apparently, a swimming location, as Google Maps had the area marked as “Fort Cooper Beach” and an old outdoor shower still stood near to the restrooms. I didn’t test whether it still functioned, but it was clear that any days of water sports were through. In fact…

I find the whole idea of a beach at that location at any point in time rather confusing, as all that stands near the water now are the classic “DO NOT MOLEST THE ALLIGATORS” signs. It’s a very idyllic scene to look upon (see the picture above for a left-side view and the picture below for the right), but not at all somewhere I’d see as safe to swim in (though child me did wade through/swim in ponds WHERE I’D SEEN GATORS, MULTIPLE TIMES{?!}).

After staring at the water, trees, and wedding party for a couple of minutes, it was time to head to Sandhill Trail, which was a few minutes’ walk before where we parked. At the start of the trail was an interpretive sign that highlighted some common animals in the habitat, which I pointed out to my eldest. (I am trying to inspire within him an interest in zoology and botany…)

Of the four animals listed, though, we only succeeded in seeing “Florida harvester ants” and their numerous hills in the sand of the trail. This actually delighted my son, as he has a love/hate relationship with insects… Especially ants.

As for the trail itself, the vast majority appeared similar to the photo above. Short little turkey oaks grew in the unshaded, sparse grass, and pine trees (longleaf?) were positioned here and there, dropping sizeable pine cones all around the scrub and the packed sand trail (which wasn’t too hard to push my youngest’s stroller through). I spotted a gopher tortoise burrow, but all of its inhabitants were either hidden deep in its caverns or perusing the trail elsewhere. No matter… The fun is in the hunt! (Or so I try to get my son to believe.)

For the weary traveler (including one lazy four year old and one infant who wanted to nurse), there are a few benches placed along the trail. As you can see, some do not enjoy the amenity of shade. With the temperate spring weather we enjoyed, that wasn’t so bad, but it’d be a real downside on a typical Florida day.

But not all areas of the trail were so sun-scorched. Sections went through oak forest, too.

My heat and sun tolerance is much higher than most, but I think even someone (or a family) less stoic than I about Florida’s heat could handle this approximately two-mile trail on a summer day (with the help of a couple bottles of water per person and some hats and/or sunblock). It’s long enough to feel like a hike (albeit a very small one, of course), but not so long that the heat and tedium would combine into… uh… Murderous rage? Desperation? The overwhelming urge to curl up and let nature choose your fate, as you’ve done all you can to get by?

(I don’t know, I’ve only ever had survival issues in the freezing weather… Like that one time I got lost in Acadia National Park on a beautiful 15 degree Fahrenheit day that turned to a 8 degree Fahrenheit night before we found our way home/got rescued).

After our hike wrapped up, we stopped at the tiny playground area that lay near to the park’s entertainment hall (where, presumably, the wedding must have been celebrated).

It also stood very near to the start of the Dogwood trail, which we declined to take because of 1. the lateness of the day, and 2. the relative wimpyness a parent often must adopt in order to make experiences bearable when you have two young kids with you. (Speaking of which–having a playground at the park you’re hiking is great. You can use it as inspiration for your child to persevere. On this trip, I kept telling my eldest that if he was too tired to walk, then he was too tired to play after our walk, and thus he was forced to carry on and quit some of his whining.)

A childless me would have sipped some water, tightened the old belt, adjusted the socks, whatever, and speed-hiked that and the “Old Fort” trail, too, just to see what the park had to offer… But that wouldn’t have been fair to either of my kids. And that’s okay. I hope we can come back when they’re hardier (or that I can return alone while still healthy enough to explore) and see all the Fort Cooper State Park sites.

One last thing before I finally wrap this all up: I hope I can somehow help my children to enjoy, and have stamina with, outdoor exploration. As a child, I myself didn’t have much ability to get through long hikes (which I partially attribute to poor-quality footwear, lack of decent outdoor clothing, and no training in proper hydration/snacking), and though I loved hiking we could really only do a mile or so before I wanted to slow down, rest, and just… be done.

I assumed that this would be the case for all children, but one summer day (also in Maine) when I was nineteen or so, I decided to face Mount Dorr (and a couple other peaks) in Acadia. Halfway through the day, I was halfway up Dorr, and what should come bounding UP THE DANG MOUNTAIN WITH NOT A STRUGGLE IN THEIR BREATH AND NOT A DROP OF SWEAT ON THEIR BROWS but two boys who must have been seven or eight. These kids had come along with only Nalgene bottles in their hands– no Camelbacks, no energy bar-filled packs. Their super-fit parents hiked swiftly behind them. I, however, had had to stop and take a breather and wipe a river of perspiration away from my eyes/nose/mouth/etc., and if I had been anything less than a goal-driven adult, I’d have cried and whined and demanded a return to wherever we could catch a car/bus/boat and get back to a place where nature seemed far and comfy places to rest your butt were plentiful. BUT THESE BOYS WERE LIKE MOUNTAIN GOATS. I felt insulted.

I hope my kids can be like those boys some day! (And that I can be more like those parents…)

Back to Fort Cooper:

Would I recommend Fort Cooper to a family? Yes. (I’d also recommend it to non-families, too.) You have some choices in trail options (though I only explored one of said choices) and a pretty sweet means of cajoling your child to walk, so long as said child is young enough to like playing on a playground. If you are a picnicker, there are plenty of tables with charming views near the lake, and it seems to be the perfect environment for a kid/kids to fairly safely run around and explore in. If you have a vehicle that can carry bicycles, it’s also very near to the Withlacoochee State Trail, which I’ve never ridden but looked pretty nice when I passed it by. Last of all, the town/area surrounding the park looks like it would be a delight to spend some time in: grab an ice cream, admire the wildflowers along the drive, and just pretend that you’re somewhere wild and exciting and… Not new. Wonderfully old.