Adamsville

 Last week I was riding south on the Chitty Chatty Trail on my way to Adamsville via Meggison and Warm Springs Road when it occurred to me to wonder how we rode to Adamsville before Morse Boulevard went through to 44. To find out, click on my Strava activity below from September 6, 2014.

 

 The original Methodist, now Baptist Church at Adamsville was built in 1852 and is the oldest church in Sumter County which is hardly surprising as the county wasn’t created until 1853! John Adams was the first pioneer to settle on the old Andrew Jackson Highway which was also called the Fort King Road and served as a stage coach route. In 1860 there were 1,549 settlers around Adamsville who grew oranges and vegetables, and raised cattle, hogs and chickens. Adams donated an acre of land for the church and the cemetery which is his last resting place.

 

 

 From the historical marker by the roadside one learns “Sumter County was created by an act of the Florida Legislature on January 8 1853. The new county was created from the southern part of Marion County and a contained a large segment of what is now Lake County. The community of Adamsville was selected as the first county seat. Near this site was erected a log building to serve as the county courthouse until the county seat was moved to Sumterville in 1858.”

 

Well I got my pictures then dodged between the stage coaches on the the Andrew Jackson Highway to cross to Marsh Bend Trail via the gap in the fence by the utility boxes opposite the church – a great shortcut but one that that was not available way back in 2014.

 

For route information click here.

The Land Bridge

I’m riding west on the paved Santos Trail and go over the Land Bridge. This is where all of the hiking, equestrian and cycling trails of The Cross Florida Greenway come together to cross the Interstate 75 Highway. While the bridge was built primarily for recreation, night time motion activated cameras have shown it also serves as a crossing for bears, panthers, deer, and other wildlife. The bridge has proved to be a lot safer for all users than jumping the fence and dodging the traffic. 

Completed in 2000, the Cross Florida Greenway Land Bridge was the first of its kind in the United States. In a sentence it’s a 300 foot long, 50 foot wide thousand ton concrete planter holding soil, rock, trees, native plants, and a watering system all thrown together with some massive beams and a center support which enable it to span the six lane road below.

 

It’s not possible for me to go any further without mentioning Marjorie Harris Carr the environmentalist without whom none of  this would have been possible. She succeeded in having the lands acquired for the Cross Florida Barge Canal (the largest unfinished public works project in US history) repurposed for recreational use. What a gift to us all!

And speaking of the canal – as I continue west off the bridge the path swings downhill to the left followed by a 90 degree turn to the right. Here where the trail levels off and is straight for the the next mile I am in the bottom of the ditch dug for the canal. On my right through the trees I can see the rise of the side of the canal which if completed would have been 150 feet wide and 12 feet deep and enable barges to carry freight the 172 miles from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Coast.

 

Enjoy the trails and STOP to read the informational plaques along the way.

 

For route information click here.

Wildwood

I’m riding west on 44A to Wildwood planning to cross 301 and the multiple RR tracks of the railroad yard then take CR 209 north toward home. I’m hoping there’ll be some cars around to change the light to green as from my experience it only changes for traffic and the seasons. And those are good days – bad days are when a mile of railroad cars are being put together and being shunted across the road at three miles per hour!

I’m stopped at the 301 traffic light and looking to my right I see the Wildwood Shopping Center which was built in 1964 and looks like it – having become somewhat tired. Interestingly enough it was built on the site of Lake Malinda a small lake in the middle of town named for Malinda Thompson, the original owner of the 80 acres that a large part of Wildwood was built on. For some reason a Joni Mitchell song about paving Paradise is running through my mind!

 

                   Loulie Fleece, Ida and Margaret Vining at Lake Malinda circa 1910

 

The story goes that Wildwood was named when a surveyor overseeing construction of a telegraph line south of Ocala in the 1870’s reported that he was somewhere in the wild woods. That’s the best they can do.

 

Wildwood was settled in 1877 by Isaac W. Barwick, a 25-year-old entrepreneur who traveled to the area from Georgia and set up a lumber company. Barwick built a few stores, homes, a town square and a post office that has been in operation since 1881. In the beginning, apart from lumber most work was agricultural for local consumption although some cotton was exported via ox cart to Silver Springs and Leesburg.

 

                                    Steam locomotive at Wildwood depot circa 1915

 

Life changed on June 1, 1882 when the first train of the Tropical Florida Railroad Company arrived from Ocala pulled by a wood burning engine named "The Cabbage Head". This was the start of Wildwood’s development into a major railroad yard and the growth of an agricultural industry which was now able to export its products including tomatoes, cabbage and water melon to the north.

 

 

                                            The Orange Blossom Special

 

The brick buildings on Main Street offer a glimpse of what the town looked like in its railroad heyday. Especially the art deco station built in 1947 by the Seaboard Air Line Railroad. The station served the Orange Blossom Special and was a major junction where trains were split between continuing to Miami or Tampa. The majority of residents were employed by the railroad, and one of the benefits was that family members could ride free. Irish Wolf, who was born in Wildwood’s first hospital remembers his entire high school graduating class going to the 1964 New York World’s Fair by train.

 

Oh well – the lights have finally changed so I’m on my way again.

 

For route information click here.

Chitty Chatty

I’m crossing over SR44 on the Chitty Chatty bridge thinking it’s a cute name and wondering how the The Villages thought of it. Heading south a little further along I cross the new iron bridge over Chitty Chatty Creek where I stop to and I’m surprised at the significant flow. I guess I’d thought the flow out from the Okahumpka Swamp wetland to the east would be very slow.

Chitty Chatty Creek Bridge from Morse Boulevard

 

From the bridge I can see the creek pass through a culvert under Morse Blvd and I decide to go with the flow and walk across to Morse Boulevard where I see a gauging station as it flows into the Continental Country Club. The gauging station is significant as I subsequently found the USGS has records of Chitty Chatty Creek back to the 1950’s. So now I have no clue where the name came from but I do know the flow is currently about 5 million gallons a day.

              Morse gauging station and Chitty Chatty bridge in Continental CC.

 

Entering the country club through the Morse gate a couple of hundred yards to the south I follow the creek as it winds its way naturally and through canals to where it feeds Lake Okahumpka.

 

              Magnificent Cypress trees by the path and the exit into Lake Okahumpka.

I have since been told that Chitty Chatty was an indian chief which I do not disbelieve but I have been unable to find any record of his existence.

A caveat: The Continental Country Club does not like Villagers trespassing on their property and can be quite unpleasant. On this occasion I was agreeably surprised to meet several of the residents and we had a nice chat about the history of the area and its waters.

For route information click here.

Hogeye Sink

It’s February and I’m riding along the trail just south of the turnpike to the Hogeye Sink bridge. At that time of year there is limited vegetation and looking toward the turnpike from the bridge it is easy to see the culvert where the water flows under the turnpike from Lake Okahumpka into Hogeye Sink. On the other side of the bridge I can see the water flow into the lakes of the sink.

 

The word “sink” or “drain” in a place name usually indicates where water drains into the aquifer whereas a “spring” is a source of water from the aquifer. In the Okahumpka Swamp area the aquifer is somewhere between 50 and 130 feet below the surface.

 

But all the science aside, I am fascinated by the appearance that this is a stream to nowhere and head down the recreational path to Marsh Bend Trail to see the other end of the sink.

 

I hop over the fence on Marsh Bend Trail and walk to where I can see the last lake of Hogeye Sink where there is a gauging post with a bird perched atop - the bird may not be there when you visit! There is no flow here as the water drains into the aquifer  .  .  .  .

 

  

  .  .  .  only to reappear at Warm Springs behind the Fenney Recreation Center. Well, some of the water will take this route as the aquifer will acquire water from other sinks and drains and also feed other springs in the area. 

 

For route information click here.