Myakka and Cascadura

I went down south last weekend for what has become my traditional annual solo overnight backpacking trip in Myakka River State Park.  This is the fourth year now that I've trudged out across the prairie to sleep in a palmetto and pine island, miles from anywhere.  For those not familiar with Florida ecosystems, we do indeed have prairies here, but they are of a very different type than those found out west.  Near my home in Gainesville there is Payne's Prairie (also a state park), which is a wet prairie that has a karst origin.  Down at Myakka there is a dry (typically) prairie that is in essence a flatwoods environment without the woods.  Its mostly stunted saw palmetto and shrubs in the blueberry family, with lots of clump grasses and flowering perennials thrown in the mix.

Florida Dry Prairie (pic from the 2007 trip)

Florida dry prairie is an endangered ecosystem, a lot of it was fundamentally altered for ranching, farming, and subdivisions in the last several decades.  Even at Myakka a cattle ranch once existed.  Much work has been done to reintroduce the natural burn cycle that keeps the prairie healthy and free of overgrown woody plants.  There are, of course, areas of the park where trees occur naturally, including Panther Point, the "island" where I camp, as well as Bee Island, an oak hammock surrounded by wide-spaced mature South Florida slash pine.

Panther Point in the morning mist.

South Florida slash pine near Bee Island.

Yes, the splendors of Myakka are many, even though it was overcast the entire time I was there this trip.  Probably for the best, it would have been hot otherwise and drinking water was limited due to the drought the state is in.

Gratuitous 'gator shot, for those of you who don't have the option of seeing a giant carnivorous reptile any day you feel like it.  Yawn.

"But!" you might interject "What has this wonderful place to do with hunting or eating of game flesh?".  Very little, says I, but I found a way to tie it in, kinda.  As I mentioned, the place is super dry right now, and surface water is rare away from the actual river.  I passed one of the few pools remaining on my walk out, and saw plenty of evidence the piscivorous denizens of the prairie have been partaking mightily of the stranded fishes.  Most of the fish were of a type new to me:

Little lacking in the fresh department.

I did recognize them as an armored catfish, and some searching online today brought up their identity.  The fish in question are a non-native species, here called the Brown Hoplo (Hoplosternum littorale).  The FWC thinks little of them, being another of the many invasives transforming the Florida ecosystems.  However, they note that people with cultural ties to Trinidad value the fish as fine eating.  I found a blog post with an excellent (if slightly creepy) photo of cascadura (as they are often called) cooked up in a curry.

In as much as I like catfish in general (they were the main fish we consumed growing up) I'm interested in finding some fresh cascadura.  The FWC website noted they are typically caught with a net, and indeed there were people fishing with a cast net off the bridge over the river in the park.  I wonder if this is what they were after?  Knowing what I know now, I wish I'd stopped to ask.  Next year, I may have to bring a cast net down and see what I can catch.

Set up for the evening.  That ain't iced tea!  Cheers!