O’Leno State Park when the Santa Fe River is low

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I’ve spent much of this year documenting this historic drought, for my job. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I took some time off, and… spent some more time documenting this historic drought. We had planned this trip to O’Leno State Park months ago. There was no way to know that the swimming area would be closed because the water would get too low and scummy, or that a burn ban would keep us from gathering around a camp fire.

A few other things went wrong, and I found myself with plenty of time to explore. I now wish that I had had more time there; I should make a point of returning. This is a place with more than a couple of stories to tell me.

The Santa Fe River, and the connected Ichetucknee and the Suwannee, are outside of the WFSU viewing area. But, not by much. They share DNA with rivers closer to Tallahassee while remaining a distinct landscape. I’ve been wanting to write about this area for a while, mostly because our camping group seems to end up camping and paddling these rivers once or twice a year. My children have made formative memories on these rivers, as have many others from our area.

What better time to start writing about this area than when the Santa Fe is having a rare moment?

Rivers in a Karst Landscape

The Santa Fe River enters the aquifer in O’Leno State Park. It is a karst river, and, like the Aucilla, St. Marks, and Chipola rivers, its channel later reemerges and continues to flow aboveground. The Santa Fe does so three miles away, in River Rise Preserve State Park, which shares a trail system with O’Leno. I wish I had known this when I set off aimlessly with my camera. Perhaps, another time, I can take a hike where I see the river subside and rise again in the span of a couple of hours.

It goes under as it crosses a familiar feature – the Cody Escarpment. The good old Cody Scarp. On our latest episode of Coast to Canopy, I learned that this ancient coastline stretches from around Gainesville to Leon County. State Geologist Harley Means explains that, between Tallahassee and the Apalachicola River, it gives way to “less discernible” formations. Many maps show the scarp extending all the way to the Apalachicola, but that’s not technically true. Now I know!

To oversimplify, the Cody Scarp is a descent from high ground to flat ground. Beneath that flat ground, the limestone Floridan Aquifer is close to the surface. This is a land of abundant springs and sinkholes – thirty six named springs feed the Santa Fe River. And, after it reemerges, it joins with the spring-fed Ichetucknee. In fact, Ichetucknee State Park is only a twenty-minute drive from O’Leno. As I zoom out on the map, I see numerous state parks in the area, mostly associated with first-magnitude springs.

Now, let’s take a look at O’Leno State Park, and what happened to the Sant Fe River here during a historic drought.

Rocks, duckweed, and algae

We’ll start at the swimming area. You can cross the river here on a cool suspension bridge, and set off into the trail system. Beneath the bridge, we can see exposed limestone rocks. The Limestone exposed here formed about 40 million years ago, during the Eocene Epoch. Like most of Florida, this area was a shallow ocean then (Florida’s limestone is made from the shells of marine animals). This is Ocala limestone, and it is never far below the surface here at the park.

With the water this low, you can also cross the river on these rocks. I see some people are trying their luck fishing here. Only the occasional loose rock causes me to stumble. From here, I can see two shades of green on the surface of the water: bright green duckweed and the duller, snot-green of algae.

This camping trip happens two days after I visited Sneads Smokehouse Lake, and there’s a similar dynamic at work. There are stretches of water isolated between rocky outcroppings. As at the lake, nutrients concentrate in these smaller water bodies and cause algae to bloom.

The algae detracts from this striking scene, but the lower river level opens up new opportunities to explore.

Heading off on the trails

The O’Leno State Park website boasts of 18 different plant communities in the park. This is likely driven by the park’s geology. There’s the river and its floodplain, with high slopes on either side. Atop the slopes, fire-dependent pine uplands. Because the Cody Escarpment runs through the park, we also have that transition from a high and hilly terrain to one that is flatter. And then, of course, there are places where limestone is near to or breaks through the soil surface.

We have an intersection of features that creates multiple niches favorable to different plant communities.

Floodplain forests are dynamic places that can be fully flooded, totally dry, or somewhere in between at any time of the year. Once or twice, the trail descends into this cypress wetland habitat.

Now is a time for observing cypress knees, and they are nice and thick in places.

On our last morning, I follow the river to where it enters the aquifer.

I wonder if this second sink connects to the river when the water is higher.

A little further past the sink, I find this elongated stretch of water. It’s called Ogden Pond on the map, but it’s flowing water. It reminds me of the Aucilla Sinks, which also occur between a river sink and river rise. Some of the Aucilla’s karst windows look much like short river runs with moving water.

Into the pineywoods

As I start roaming into the piney areas, I find familiar plants. Straddling the Cody Escarpment as it does, the park has a few types of longleaf pine ecosystems. Mesic flatwoods are in low-lying areas that hold water, and I don’t see these on this trip. Sandhills are likely along the scarp, as they are in Leon County. Pine uplands would be upslope of the scarp.

The plants I most notice are common in my hometown Munson Sandhills, though we might find some of them in upland pinewoods as well. I’m not a botanist, so I won’t try to say one way or another which exact longleaf variant(s) I’m seeing here. And, with so many plant communities so close together, they’re likely to blend into each other in interesting ways. I really do need to come back.

Yuccas are in bloom now, here and in Tallahassee. Some years, I notice certain flowers more than others, and I feel like I’m seeing these everywhere.

I see pawpaws in a couple of different spots in the park. Sadly, I don’t see any zebra swallowtail butterflies, or their caterpillars eating this, their host plant. But then, I never see their caterpillars. Maybe they’re nocturnal?

This reminds me, I planned on searching new locations to try and find new populations of the rare prickly pear specialist bee, Melissodes mitchelli.

Speaking of bees, I’m surprised I didn’t see more on this trip. Closer to the wet areas in the park, there were many tall, flower-laden sparkleberry shrubs. It’s been a month since I’ve seen blueberry digger bees in my own yard, or in the sandhills south of town. Sparkleberry is a Vaccinium, as are blueberry species (and, did you know, cranberries?). It’s weird to not see this covered with diggers or bumblebees.

Wildlife watching at O’Leno State Park

I do see animals in the park, and several are insects. Just no bees.

Early in the morning, I startle several deer that have gathered in the road near our campsite. They scatter, but this one feels concealed enough to stop and watch me. There’s always that one deer that does this, I feel.

Oddly enough, in a park full of water and 18 different plant communities, our best wildlife watching happens right at our campsite. The younger children in our group fall in love with skinks occupying a large boulder at the edge of the site, next to the bathroom.

I am called over to photograph this male. I had been seeing males and females in our yard; they’re out in the open more when they’re nesting.

As we are packing up to leave, I’m called over again – they found its nest. One child is trying to coax it out of a hole in the boulder by poking it with a twig. I tell her that the best way to have it come out is to back away and give it space.

I’m glad I’m right, because children never let you forget it when you’re wrong. Not one, but two skinks come out. During mating, males protect the females, who are less mobile when producing eggs. After she lays the eggs, she will likely not stray too far from this rock.

There are plenty of insects at our group site, and not just ticks. But yes, also ticks. Here are two of my favorite insects from the trip. I also see a pretty cool bee-mimic robber fly, but I don’t love the cellphone photos I take of it.

Don’t leave without saying goodbye

The car is packed, and we are saying goodbye. Again, a child notices a cool reptile. O’Leno State Park really wants me to write about it, sending gopher tortoises to our campsite. Well done. I had seen a couple of burrows in the pineywoods, and here is one on the flesh (and shell).

I have to make it back here. Maybe I can camp here for a few days, and use the park as a home base to explore the surrounding area a little more. There are too many stories to be told here, and they are part of the larger story I’ve been telling closer to home all these years. I will be back.