Backcountry Tales #1: A Shark Valley Surprise
Front row seats to Florida's teeth
Shark Valley is one of the main entrances to Everglades National Park, located in the heart of the "River of Grass" and offers visitors a unique glimpse into this vast ecosystem.
Located along the Tamiami Trail (US-41), this entrance features a distinctive 15-mile paved loop trail culminating in a 65-foot observation tower that offers panoramic views of the River of Grass. Here, visitors can experience the Everglades at eye-level with its inhabitants – alligators bask along the trail edges, wading birds stalk the shallow waters, and turtles slip quietly through lily-pad covered sloughs.
Shark Valley Visitor Center stands as one of the most accessible gateways into the heart of the Everglades ecosystem.
Visitors can explore via guided tram tours, bicycle rentals, or on foot, making it an ideal location for wildlife photography and observation. During the winter dry season (December through April), the concentration of wildlife around the remaining water sources creates exceptional viewing opportunities.
Shark Valley Visitor Center stands as one of the most accessible gateways into the heart of the Everglades ecosystem.
Shark Valley, despite its name, has nothing to do with sharks at all. The name actually comes from the Shark River Slough, which is the main water flow through this part of the Everglades. The Shark River Slough is a wide, shallow river of freshwater that flows from Lake Okeechobee south through the Everglades and eventually empties into the Gulf of Mexico near Shark River in Florida Bay.
Shark River Slough delineated in the Everglades National Park with locations of inflow structures (s12s and s333), major outflowing rivers, and FCE-LTER stations (SRS 1-6). The freshwater section is shown in orange while the estuarine section adjacent to the Gulf of Mexico is shown in green.
The name "Shark River" likely originated because bull sharks can sometimes be found in the brackish waters where the river meets the Gulf of Mexico, but no sharks are found in Shark Valley itself. The area is primarily a freshwater ecosystem dominated by alligators, wading birds, and other freshwater species.
It's one of those quirky Florida place names that can be misleading - similar to how Big Cypress National Preserve was named for the size of its cypress trees rather than being a big preserve of cypress trees.
This previous summer, I decided to drive out to Shark Valley with my new Panasonic Lumix 70-300mm macro lens. I hadn’t visited this entrance of the Everglades NPS since I was a teenager. It felt like yesterday when my father took our family out for an early morning walk to see some alligators. This time around I wanted to soak it all in and literally stroll down Memory Lane and test out my new lens.
It was midday and the area hadn't seen rain in several weeks. Actually, our summer “wet” season was off to an abysmal start. Heat indexes were reaching peak levels we hadn’t seen since the 70’s and there was little to no rain to start the summer with.
Water level depth gauge at the trailhead of Shark Valley’s slough.
I was roughly two miles into the walk down the West Loop Road, my eyes scanning the grassy banks to my right. Wildlife was hard to come by with this heat, but I did snag this adolescent American alligator cruising one of the sloughs beside the trail. He seemed to have taken a curiosity to me and cruised right up the bank and settled staring at me. After grabbing a few video clips and some photos, he seemed to have embraced my company and decided to take a nap.
An American alligator rests on the banks of the Shark Valley River slough.
I cautiously inched closer to him but kept my distance from the top of the bank. He was certainly aware of me but didn't care enough to slide back into the water and retreat to his “safe space”. After our little photoshoot, I pressed on hoping to see more wildlife.
Eyes on the Prize
I noticed this particularly large dragonfly hovering in the tall grass, and it led me to the foliage on the edge of the slough. I kept my distance from the water and did a triple take to see if there were any signs of predators. My eyes glued to the water for any signs of life and the only air bubbles I caught were from a turtle casually swimming just beneath the surface of the canal. It was quite entertaining seeing the outline of the turtle as it gingerly plowed through the thicket of lily pads.
Lily pads dot the Shark Valley sloughs making for picturesque scenery as one cycles or walks down Shark Valley.
I returned my gaze to the dragonfly.
Perfect opportunity for some macro shots.
I did the best I could to track this speedy dragonfly until he landed on a blade of grass. My first decent shot at some macro insect video and photos. Although, the photos were harder to pull off with what happened next...
In the middle of dialing in my settings and attempting to nail focus for both photos and video of this lone dragonfly... I heard an enormous CRASH and the breaking of bark to my left just about roughly twenty feet (six meters for my European friends) from my left. I immediately broke off from the dragonfly and spun around to see where the sudden noise came from.
A larger American alligator than the one I had previously seen before was lurking just beyond the brush deep in the shadows. He had lunged at something that was in the water and took it along with grass and branches alike all in one fell swoop. And began to crush it with its jaws.
I didn't have time to dial in my settings nor enough time to even switch over to video to grab this encounter. It was so difficult to tell what it had just successfully hunted. It might have even been that smaller turtle I saw not even a couple minutes before. Whatever it was, it was ensnared deep within the jaws of the alligator. I could hear the crushing of its prey as I shot off a couple of photos, frantically trying my best to at least get the focus right. The gator would casually slide into the marsh with its prize and in an instant, it was all over. All that remained were the drumming of the cicadas and the stillness of the water. As if nothing happened.
Just another day in the River of Grass.
An American alligator successfully ensnares its prey with its jaws.
This was a sobering reminder to never let your guard down in the wilderness, especially in the Everglades. Just because all may seem calm, danger is actually lurking closer than you believe. Alligators are ambush specialists, and I got a front-row seat to that display.
American alligators usually retreat to the comfort and “safe space” that is the water. Here, this alligator immediately slips back into the slough after seizing a meal.
The Water Turkey
For the rest of the day, I wouldn’t see much else out at Shark Valley. It was just too damn hot and most of the alligators who are popular tourist sights here at the slough, would spend their time cooling down in the brush or deep beneath the mangroves.
As I meandered back to the trailhead, I stumbled upon a charismatic character – an anhinga striking a pose worthy of a feathered fashion model.
The anhinga, often called the "snake bird" or "water turkey," is a fascinating creature that seems to blur the line between bird and aquatic life. Unlike most water birds, the anhinga doesn't have waterproof feathers, which allows it to sink and swim underwater with ease, sneaking up on unsuspecting fish. After a successful hunt, you'll often spot these peculiar birds perched on branches or rocks, wings spread wide like a living clothesline, drying their feathers in the sun. With their striking appearance and unique behaviors, anhinga add a touch of prehistoric elegance to the wetlands they call home.
There it was, wings unfurled like a living solar panel, basking in the sun's warm embrace. Its nonchalant charm turned my simple walk into an impromptu wildlife meet-and-greet, leaving me with a grin and a reminder that sometimes, nature's most delightful moments come when you least expect them.
An anhinga dries off its feathers at Florida Everglades National Park’s Shark Valley.
I trudged back to my car, sweaty but satisfied. My camera was full of photos and footage, my water bottle empty, and my skin a patchwork of bug bites. The day had been a wild ride – from the heart-pounding moment when I caught that alligator in full predator mode to my impromptu photoshoot with the anhinga, nature's own supermodel. Seriously, that bird knew its angles better than most Instagram “influencers”!
As I drove away, I couldn't help but smile. Sure, I was tired, slightly sunburnt, and probably in need of a gallon of more water to drink, but hey – that's just another day in the paradise I call “home”. Who needs air conditioning when you've got gator-watching and bird paparazzi adventures?
Never change, Florida.
