Some parks ease you in with lush shade or wide boardwalks. Allen David Broussard Catfish Creek Preserve takes a different approach — here, the Florida sun is part of the experience. This is the Lake Wales Ridge, an ancient backbone of sand running through the center of the state, and the light seems sharper here. The sky feels bigger. The air carries the faint resin scent of sand pines, the warm sweetness of blooming rosemary, and a hint of orange grove on the breeze from nearby farmland.
It’s quiet in a way that’s rare in modern Florida. You can hear your own footsteps sliding through loose sand, the soft wingbeats of a bird changing perches, the slow drag of wind across palmetto fans. For many visitors, the preserve offers something that’s becoming scarce — a sense of complete separation from the noise of everyday life.
Where Sand Meets Sky
Catfish Creek Preserve covers more than 8,000 acres of sandhills, flatwoods, and scrub, a habitat type that exists only in certain pockets of the state. The white sand here is no ordinary dirt — it’s a relic of ancient shorelines, deposited when sea levels were much higher and this ridge was a chain of islands. Over millions of years, plants and animals adapted to the harsh, dry, nutrient-poor soil, creating an ecosystem unlike any other in Florida.
The result is a landscape where gnarled oaks grow low and wide to survive the wind, where wildflowers hug the ground to avoid the full force of the sun, and where every plant seems designed to conserve every drop of water. When you crest one of the sandy ridges, you can look out over a rolling expanse of pale dunes dotted with green — it’s easy to forget the ocean is more than 50 miles away.
Trails Through the Scrub
The park’s trail network ranges from quick loops to several-mile treks, and each tells a different story of the landscape.
Pine Flatwoods Loop
This shaded section winds through stands of longleaf and slash pines, with wiregrass and bracken fern covering the ground. The canopy here breaks the sun and makes for easier walking. Look for the occasional gopher tortoise burrow — a half-moon opening in the sand, often with tracks leading in or out.
Scrub-Jay Trail
Marked with blue blazes, this route moves into open scrub and sandy ridges, prime territory for spotting Florida scrub-jays. The deep sand underfoot makes progress slower, but that’s part of the charm — this is a landscape that insists you take your time.
Sandhill Crossover
A longer connector trail that dips between ecosystems, offering a sampler of the park’s variety. One moment you’re in high, dry scrub with palmetto and turkey oak, the next you’re crossing into a slightly lower area where the soil darkens and pines grow taller.
Walking these trails in summer can feel like moving through a giant, sunlit hourglass — each step sinking slightly, the sand warm against your boots, the horizon shimmering in the heat. In winter, the sand cools, the air is crisp, and you can walk for hours without seeing another person.
Wildlife and Rarity
Allen David Broussard Catfish Creek Preserve is one of the best remaining strongholds for Florida scrub-jays. These intelligent, curious birds are a barometer for the health of the scrub ecosystem. They live in cooperative family groups, caching acorns and defending territories year-round.
The park is also home to gopher tortoises, whose burrows shelter more than 300 other species, from frogs to snakes to insects. Eastern indigo snakes, the longest native snake in North America, sometimes hunt along the sandy trails. You might also see white-tailed deer at dawn, bobcats crossing a firebreak, or hawks circling overhead.
Plant life here is just as specialized. Rare species like the scrub plum, cutthroat grass, and scrub morning glory find refuge in the preserve. Spring is the season for wildflower seekers, when patches of blue lupine and yellow sandhill sunflower turn parts of the park into a painter’s palette.
A Bit of History
The Lake Wales Ridge has been inhabited for thousands of years. Long before Spanish explorers or citrus barons, Indigenous peoples — likely ancestors of the modern Seminole and Miccosukee — used the ridge as a travel corridor. The sandy uplands stayed dry in wet seasons and offered vantage points over surrounding wetlands.
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, much of the ridge was converted to citrus groves and pasture. By the 1980s, development pressure was accelerating. Allen David Broussard, a conservationist, wildlife artist, and outdoorsman, became a vocal advocate for protecting the ridge’s remaining wild lands. After his death in 1991, his family and supporters worked with the state to acquire large tracts for preservation, leading to the creation of the park.
The Conservation Challenge
Scrub habitat depends on fire to remain healthy. Without periodic burns, the oaks grow too tall, shading out the low shrubs that scrub-jays and other species need. The Florida Park Service manages the preserve with prescribed burns, a practice that turns sections of the park into blackened ash for a season, only to see them erupt in fresh green growth within weeks.
Visitors often encounter signs explaining recent burns. Understanding this cycle adds another layer to the experience — you’re not just walking through a park, you’re moving through an ecosystem that’s actively being restored and maintained.
Seasons and Light
Winter might be the preserve’s most forgiving season — temperatures hover in the 60s and 70s, and the low humidity makes the air feel lighter. This is also when migratory birds pass through, adding variety to the avian soundtrack.
Spring brings the best wildflower displays, with blooms scattered among the sand pines and palmettos. The air is fragrant, and the sun, though strong, hasn’t reached its summer intensity.
Summer is raw Florida. The sand reflects the sun, afternoon storms build with drama, and the heat can be relentless. But the payoff is solitude — few people venture out in the middle of the day, and the post-storm light is spectacular.
Fall is a subtle season here, marked more by a shift in the angle of light than by color changes. The days shorten, the mornings cool, and the park feels like it’s exhaling after the summer.
Good to Know
- No water onsite — bring more than you think you’ll need.
- Footwear — expect sand in your shoes; trail runners or lightweight hiking boots work best.
- Exposure — sun protection is non-negotiable; a wide-brimmed hat can make the difference between a pleasant hike and a punishing one.
- Access — the main entrance is off Camp Mack Road, east of Lake Wales. Parking is limited but rarely full.
- No overnight camping — but nearby Lake Kissimmee State Park and several private campgrounds offer options.
Where It Sits on the Map
The preserve sits in a part of Polk County that still feels rural. To the west, citrus groves stretch toward US-27. To the east, the landscape dips toward the Kissimmee Chain of Lakes. The nearest town, Lake Wales, is about 15 minutes away and makes a convenient base for supplies or a post-hike meal.
Side Trips and Nearby Finds
- Bok Tower Gardens – Just west in Lake Wales, a landscaped retreat with a 205-foot carillon tower that sings over the gardens.
- Lake Kissimmee State Park – Excellent for paddling and wildlife viewing in hardwood swamps and along the lakeshore.
- Ridge Island Groves – A working citrus grove offering fresh juice and seasonal fruit, perfect for cooling down after a hike.
Allen David Broussard Catfish Creek Preserve is not a park that hands you its beauty all at once. You have to walk into it, feel the sand slow your pace, notice the small movements in the scrub, and understand that rarity takes patience. This is ancient Florida, still breathing, still holding on in the face of change. Spend a morning here, and you’ll carry away the sound of wind in sand pines, the sight of a scrub-jay perched just close enough to watch you back, and the quiet satisfaction of knowing places like this still exist.
