Putting your foot in it is never good, moreover when the ‘in
it’ is an alligator’s head. Here I am in the Everglades. I’d heard Shark
Valley, part of the national park, has a notable 15-mile cycle trail, so I went
to check it out. A flat loop runs straight alongside a canal for six miles to a
viewing tower. The back nine returns you to the starting point via a winding path
through a patchwork of wetlands. Patiently pedaling my rented, single-speed towards
the lookout, I was surreally relaxed in the blue-green landscape, soaking up
the sun, the views, watching the tree-hopping bird life… Then inadvertently, or
intuitively, I dropped my gaze to the bank, and almost toppled on to the
tarmac. Thickset, scaly and menacing, a gator was protruding from the grasses, flexing
his giant jaw, and with his beady eyes on me. And he wasn’t alone. His mates
were all lined up along my route, hidden at intervals. The guidance is, whether
you want to win National Geographic Photographer of the Year or not, you keep 15
feet away from them. This bike ride offers an adrenalin buzz like no other. Want
to ham it up a little more? Pull over for a ranger’s vehicles without looking what
you are pulling over into. Back to my first line. My weight-bearing foot almost
rested on a camouflaged gator’s head. I wonder if travel insurance covers that?
