05/11/2026
A Run through Time - Port Leon and St Marks River Crossing on the Florida Trail
Text Courtesy Katasha Gruver / Photos Courtesy Katasha Gruver and Scott Arnold
After Travis Pollard’s inspiring Sunday Talk in March, we set out for a run to the old Port Leon site and then on to the spot where the Florida Trail crosses the St. Marks River. The morning greeted us with clear skies and temperatures in the high 50s; perfect adventure weather.
Leaving from the visitor center, we were quickly welcomed into the Refuge by its early risers. A barred owl offered our first sighting of the day, followed soon after by three swallow‑tailed kites chasing one another overhead. Pileated woodpeckers hammered in the distance, red‑shouldered hawks called from the canopy, and a wild turkey surprised us along a side road. Though the landscape isn’t vast here, the dawn light made the views along straight‑as‑an‑arrow Port Leon Road especially beautiful.
Around the three‑mile mark we reached the Port Leon campsite used by Florida Trail thru‑hikers, then continued toward the marsh. After a brief detour, we found the blue blazes leading to the old port site. The narrow trail encouraged us to walk, giving us time to enjoy the views which opened up quickly into the marsh, though the trail was flanked by large cabbage palms.
Before the gnats fully organized their attack, we snapped photos of the pines and sawgrass overlooking the wide river. Birds continued to appear as the morning brightened; a bald eagle perched high above, an osprey circling, a brown pelican gliding low. With the Merlin app we picked up clapper rails, marsh wrens, and laughing gulls. And, as always, new plants caught our attention; limewater brookweed made its way onto our list.
Not entirely sure of what our total mileage would turn out to be, we returned to the orange‑blazed main trail and headed toward Leon Creek. This must be where an old bridge washed out. Fortunately, low tide allowed us to climb carefully down the bank, navigate the slick rocks, and scramble up the far side. The view here became one of my favorites of the day, a winding tidal creek, deer crossing just ahead, and that rare feeling of being truly “out there,” with no boat engines, no cars, no planes. Just quiet.
Some sections of trail were tricky to run, so we took our time over the small footbridges and along the narrow, meandering path until we reached the St. Marks River again. This is the spot where most hikers or runners would flag down a passing boat, though not the Florida Wildlife Corridor trekkers you read about earlier, who chose to swim. Having stood on the opposite bank many times, it was fun to see it from this side. A great egret added elegance to the scene, while grackles, red‑winged blackbirds, and mourning doves provided the soundtrack. As the day warmed, black vultures lifted from their roosts and began to soar.
On the return trip we took the fork that avoided scrambling, and it proved just as scenic, with more footbridges and shaded stretches. We spotted southern coastal violet, our next new plant, and enjoyed seeing blue butterwort again. Back near the campsite, we headed east toward the visitor center, accompanied by red‑bellied woodpeckers, nuthatches, blooming thistle, and a few butterflies.
All told, this spectacular journey covers about ten miles and can easily be done as a bike‑and‑hike combination if preferred. Just bring plenty of water, a small first‑aid kit, and an adventurous spirit.
Happy trails.
