Rainbow Springs wasn’t on our original Florida list, not because we didn’t want to go there, but because it’s one of the more popular state parks that usually requires a year’s worth of lead time to reserve. We had a five-day gap in our travel schedule, and a few months ago TBG checked and was lucky to find an opening at Rainbow that tucked into that gap.
The campground is separate from the main park, but it’s not without things to do. We walked the sweet ~.75-mile Nature Loop on our first afternoon and ran around it a couple of times on another morning. The store was open, and it was where we (I) had to go to rent our kayak for a paddle up to the headsprings. It’s a six-mile drive to that point in the main park but only a few miles by water.
It was a gray start to the day, but the forecast was on our side, and it was set to be one of the warmest days of our stay. The low clouds lifted not long after we set out, and the unreal swimming-pool-blue color of the river bottom revealed itself beneath the crystalline water.
There were other folks on the river, but not so many that it was crowded in any way. We had our eyes on a young, obviously inexperienced, couple who were a bit wild in their paddling efforts. About two-thirds of the way to the end, some other kayakers were watching something near the shore, and we heard them say “otter.” We slowed and quietly paddled over that way. Not so the wild pair. TBG was keeping us stable while I tried to snap some pics, when the bow of their kayak rammed the bow of ours. “Sorry!” the gal called out, nervously giggling. It was all I could do not to thwap her with my paddle. That is why my photos of the otter aren’t all they should’ve been.
Once the noisy boat-rammers cleared out, we were able to re-locate the otter by listening for and hearing it chomping on its fish snacks. We’ve seen otters in the wild many times, but it never gets old. What we didn’t see, and you won’t find in these warm springs, are manatees. By all rights, they should be found here, but my online research taught me that there is an old unused lock system at the mouth of the river which prevents them from accessing the springs. Given that manatees are protected and the plethora of citizen groups that work to keep their populations safe and thriving, I was surprised there didn’t seem to be any efforts or plans to have that old lock removed.
We reached the main springs shortly after. It was beautiful and had a large, roped off swimming area, but we’ll come back to that. You can put your kayak up at the rental place there and explore the main park on foot, then paddle back (or rent one there and paddle out and back) but we saved that for another day.
The river’s current flows, obviously, from the headsprings, making the paddle back a non-paddle if you so choose as there is enough force to propel you gently along all the way back. As you can imagine, the shores were alive with all sorts of animal life, save alligators, which can be found here but aren’t often.
The only thing that could’ve made this adventure better was if there had been manatees, but we both agreed it was our favorite kayak outing ever.
It was a much chillier day on our first trip back to the main park. At one time, like many of the Florida state parks with springs, the area was a privately owned theme park that housed a small zoo, glass-bottom boat tours, and even a monorail. The walkways, man-made waterfalls and remnants of the animal habitats still remain.
There were a few bright blooms and birds, and the swimming area glowed invitingly. The large glass-bottom boats have been replaced by “glass” kayaks.
As well as the more formal trails, there are a few longer walks to be had. We hadn’t anticipated that, but we’re almost always up for adding more walking to our day, planned or not.
We followed the blazes for the Yellow Trail. You’ll notice that I don’t have any map info to share in this post, and that is because TBG’s phone went belly up right around this time, and we were waiting to pick up his new one at our next stop. Add in the fact that I couldn’t seem to remember to load the app he uses onto my phone, and that completes my excuse. We walked about three miles altogether, our pace was slow, and our elevation gain was zero.
We just beat the rain, which made things even chillier overall, but if you recall our swimming strategy from Salt Springs, it will come as no surprise that we planned to repeat a dunk when the water temps exceeded the air temps. We didn’t get up as early as we did the first time we tried it, so there were a few other people about. A couple of non-swimmers advised us that they’d seen a water moccasin sunning itself on the branches just outside the swimming area. It was no longer there, and no one was sure where it was. We could easily see where it wasn’t, though, and that was in the swimming area. Cannonbaaaaaaall!!!
OK, no one cannonballed, but we both put aside our fear of coming
face-to-face with a water moccasin while free-floating far from shore
and each had a glorious dip. A young family of four was also enjoying a
swim, and the dad kept joyfully exclaiming, “It’s January!”
There really is nothing quite like a Florida warm spring, and because it
was very likely the last time we’ll be able to experience one, I went
in twice, and envied the life of a manatee.
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Tristan Pfeffer Beautiful clear waters and I can just feel the warm water while I look out over a foot of snow and temps in the teens here! Lee says he’s glad the water moccasin didn’t get you