Hike Canaveral Seashore’s Klondike Beach: -- A 13-mile trek along wild Florida coastline. (Orlando Sentinel).

The staff of our then-Congressman, RONALD DION DeSANTIS, was cool to the idea of a St. Augustine National Historical Park and National Seashore, first proposed in 1939 by our Congressman, both Senators and St. Augustine's Mayor, when I met with them in early 2013, during DeSANTIS's first days in elected office.  One of the two was overheard, through thin walls, saying that Rep. DeSANTIS would "never" support a National Park and Seashore because "the Tea Party is against it."  One of the two is now a DeSANTIS alien implant as an appointed County Commissioner, taking the place of the late PAUL WALDRON, running for election in a closed Republican Primary using oodles of developer cash.  Defeat DeSANTIS's rebarbative retromingent Republican Commissioner appointee, ROY ALYRE ALAIMO, JR. as lugubrious a goober as ever made a chair squad.   We can combine existing state parks and forests, water management district land, and other current government owned lands to create a St. Augustine National Historical Park and National Seashore, bigger than Cape Cod National Seashore, celebrating our unique history and nature here.  This is America, not DeSANTISTAN, and cognitive misers are not going to stand in the way of progress on historic and environmental preservation.  Our unpopular Boy Governor and his brutish apparatchiks are no match for an idea whose time has come. From Orlando Sentinel: 

Hike Canaveral Seashore’s Klondike Beach: A 13-mile trek along wild Florida coastline

Chris Stevens lands on top of a piece of driftwood on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

By PATRICK CONNOLLY | pconnolly@orlandosentinel.com | Orlando Sentinel

April 22, 2024 at 5:30 a.m.

Booming waves crash one over another while pelicans fly overhead and shorebirds forage in the sand, comprising the kind of idyllic sunny beachside scene Florida is known for. Except this time, there aren’t people or high-rise condos for miles around.

This was the view during a 13-mile hike on Klondike Beach, the sandy stretch of Canaveral National Seashore that lies between Apollo Beach on the north end and Playalinda Beach on the south side. I was joined by Chris Stevens, a fellow explorer and outdoor writer for Florida Hikes who is known on Instagram (with his wife and family) as the Sunshine State Seekers.

Chris Stevens, right, joined Central Florida Explorer Patrick Connolly during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

It was Good Friday, and something felt almost biblical about our pilgrimage along the undeveloped seashore as we visited the church of nature and fully immersed ourselves in the wild Floridian coastline. At least we had the weather on our side, with high temperatures in the low 70s and a north wind at our backs the whole way.

I don’t know exactly when or how the idea hatched, but I had this hike on my radar for several years and finally found an ideal day and someone crazy enough to do it with me. My pack and gear kit for the day included 3 liters of water, an Arizona tea, a Publix sub, apples, a wide-brimmed straw hat, a sun shirt and hiking boots.

Adventurers who attempt this should be prepared with plenty of sun protection, food and water for hours in the open sun with no amenities. A $5 backcountry permit (available at either ranger station) is required to venture past Apollo Beach lot 5 and Playalinda Beach lot 13.

The sun rises over the Atlantic Ocean before a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

We set off southward just after 7 a.m. from the end of the road at Apollo Beach, catching a magnificent sunrise with an amber horizon and whispy clouds over the Atlantic as a bright half-moon shone above the Mosquito Lagoon. We first took a turn onto a section of trail or access road on the lagoon side, which continued for several miles as we observed vibrant sea grape leaves, bright red sea beans, white moonflowers in bloom, the occasional prickly pear cactus and mangrove forests. On both sides of the trail, we were flanked by lush green vegetation and saw palmettos.

Eventually, the trail lets out at the beach, which covers about 2/3 of the hike (or you can take the beach the whole way). A note on the Canaveral National Seashore website advertises that crossing protected dunes is unlawful, so be sure to contact a ranger for the best guidance on where to hike and where to avoid.

A half-moon can be seen above the Mosquito Lagoon just after dawn during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

It’s remarkable to see so much sand and sea without any humans. Small crabs poked their heads out of the sand, curious but cautious at the sight of visitors.

Away from the development of New Smyrna Beach and Titusville, Chris realized there was nothing between us and Africa but the vast ocean (unless you were to stop in Bermuda). We were engulfed by the natural Florida coastline with no reminders of civilization — except for trash and debris that had washed up with the tide, a consistent sight for most of the hike.

I packed grabbers (which Chris graciously agreed to carry), but we ultimately decided that it would be too energy-intensive to walk on sand for 13 miles with heavy bags of trash. However, we picked up a few stray balloons and pieces of litter that traveled with us into the trash can at the end of the hike.

Central Florida Explorer Patrick Connolly takes a break during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

We soon stumbled upon a small shack along the beach labeled as a biological field station. I imagined it would be used by scientists conducting wildlife research for breaks and storage. We welcomed the chance to stop on its small porch for an early lunch and a snack.

A few volunteers on ATVs, likely conducting sea turtle nesting surveys, seemed surprised to see any other human life out there. Those chance encounters made us believe this hike isn’t something people do very often.

An odd, ambiguous piece of debris suggests either a buoy or an item related to space travel during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

As we meandered onward, we stopped to look at odd pieces of washed-up debris, including large buoys and one ambiguous piece that could have been either maritime or space-related. At one point, we witnessed a trio of roseate spoonbills soaring over on the lagoon side, and pelican flyovers continued as the afternoon approached.

As we resumed our trek southward, closing in on the final quarter of our remaining mileage, NASA’s Vehicle Assembly Building came into view on the hazy horizon. As my mind wandered, I thought of Doris Leeper, a longtime resident of New Smyrna Beach and artist who was instrumental in creating Canaveral National Seashore in 1975.

NASA’s Vehicle Assembly Building is silhouetted in the distance during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

With the risk of widespread development along the seashore, Leeper fought to preserve the land around her home alongside the Mosquito Lagoon, where she lived with her two Great Danes and created art.

While enjoying the serene scenery unencumbered by beachfront properties and crowds, I also thought about the Indigenous people who first inhabited this stretch of coastline up to 14,000 years ago and the Timucuan people who lived in harmony with the natural landscape for centuries before Europeans ever set foot in Florida.

Within the last few miles of our hike, a ranger pulled up on his ATV and stopped, saying, “I’ve been following your tracks for a long time.”

Chris Stevens walks down the beach during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

He asked if we needed any water, but we came prepared for hours outside, although I admitted that we might have a few screws loose for attempting such an endeavor. This wasn’t the kind of outing most normal people decide to do.

As we approached Playalinda’s Beach 13, preparing for the sight of nude sunbathers, we found a congregation of pelicans, flamingoes, gulls and terns gathered on the shore of the lagoon with cormorants perched in the background. We were mindful of our distance but curious to get closer and join in the social affair.

A congregation of birds gathers on the Mosquito Lagoon, including pelicans, flamingos, terns and gulls, during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

In concluding our hike, I replaced the lens cap on my camera as we began to pass sunbathers in their natural state. We clothed hikers were the ones who looked out of place, gathering curious glances from people inevitably wondering, “Where the heck did they come from?”

After 6 1/2 hours in the sun, Chris and I were delighted to see his wife, Chelsey, and their infant son, who arrived to pick us up from the parking lot. We rushed to Playalinda Brewing Company in Titusville for sandwiches and beer, the most welcome treats after a long day of hiking.

A small crab appears shy and burrows into the sand during a hike on Klondike Beach in the backcountry of Canaveral National Seashore. (Patrick Connolly/Orlando Sentinel)

Ultimately, this adventure represented a challenging but beautiful immersion in the wild Florida coastline, one that I won’t soon forget.

Find me @PConnPie on Instagram or send me an email: pconnolly@orlandosentinel.com.

More info

Visit nps.gov to learn more about backcountry hiking at Canaveral National Seashore.