Trail Lakes Campground

I guess I missed the attributes that other reviews experienced. This is one of the top worst campgrounds we’ve ever seen. Run down and dirty. It’s like the current generation of owners took over and decided not to sink another penny into it. It’s probably been 10 to 15 years since any money was invested in the campground other than a few very tiny cabins. The road is horrendously potholed and the sites and laundry beyond filthy. Camped in a 35” motorhome. We are self-contained so cannot comment on restrooms/shower facilities.
Pros –
- Location okay but not worth it – look at other options
- Office and other staff friendly – they don’t care about working to clean anything though.
Cons –
- Road to sites extremely rutted – appears to have been neglected for a long time.
- No clean up of sites between campers. Fire ring rocks strewn about in each site.
- Extremely filthy, old and dilapidated campground.
- Laundry facility is the absolute worst I’ve ever seen. Dirty, garbage overflowing, duct tape holding the lint trap on. Rusty driers.
- No one cares. I mentioned the filthy laundry and that no one should be allowed in until it was cleaned. The worker just said “it’s really old”. I told her no cares about the age – it’s the filth that is troubling. I went back 4 days later to see if anyone had cleaned it or took out the trash. And Nope – now the garbage is all over the floor.

Our family tented one night at this campground. Dave, the owner, showed us to a spot where no one else was camping so we had a completely private, jungly experience. We paid $10 for firewood and had a roaring great campfire. Dave told us we were welcome to pick up scrap wood from a bush pile as well.

The washrooms were fairly close by, large and best of all the showers were hot. The next morning on signing out, we were welcomed to go through their aquarium set up. There were large snakes and alligators in various growth stages. The kids were thrilled to see live alligators.

All in all, we had a great time at this non-conformist type campground. I wish we could have stayed longer and taken the Everglades tours they offer but there was no Internet and our oldest son requires online access for university lectures.

This is NOT a packaged, sanitized corporate park experience....this is a wild and edgy place...We entered late at night...and it was spooky and dark.
But the bottom line is the people were very hospitable and friendly. At dawn we were treated to an amazing sunrise...and invited to come visit the petting zoo and see the other oddities on site.
The bottom line is....if you’re going across Florida...taking 41...and descending into this wild and beautiful place is well worth the time.

We only spent a night here on our way to the Keys, but we had to stop after finding out about the Skunk Ape Research Headquarters. This campground is part of the same property. In fact, you register inside the HQ. They sell Skunk Ape (like Bigfoot) stuff inside the store.

We had a pull through spot right on the edge of the park with a beautiful view. There wasn't any yard to speak of, but since we were only there overnight, we didn't care. There was a small pond across from us with a small alligator in it trying to get away from the big guys along the road. There were some people living there full-time.

In the morning, the caretaker gave us a tour of the little zoo (see blog post for more details). We didn't even know it was included, but it was a nice perk. They also offer eco-tours out of the location.

Note that the rate reflects what we would've paid nightly. Since we stayed for a week, they gave us a free night. Enough talk of money though, here's how our initial approach went as we entered the park.

You pull through a large metal gate which requires a passcode. Statues of lions and the "skunk ape", Florida's version of Bigfoot, abound. A man is woodburning a great blue heron onto his pole boat. As you enter, a sign says, "Night registration". I'm not sure how you'd get to this point if you hadn't already registered and been given the gate code, but a man pulls up on a motorcycle. Like most Floridians, he does not seem to own a shirt. Leading us to our site, one with a pristine view but that is more or less just enough room for us to pull off of the dirt road and park, I ask him if we could have something else. He tells us to look around and let us know what he likes.

I find a spot, it's two spots I'll eventually find out, and tell him. "Number 26," I say.

"By the tiki hut?"

"I don't know," I reply, I hadn't seen a tiki hut, though I wasn't particularly looking.

"Take me over there," he states and I lead him to the site in question.

Again, it's actually two spots. He begins his friendly rant.

"Look, how do you run your show?"

"Huh?"

"I get $200 a night for that tiki hut," he says, and I finally see it. It's a pretty nice tiki hut. "You can't be partying all night here, I need to rent that out and people don't want a party next door."

I've got three kids and my mother-in-law with me. He nods as I assure him I won't party all night.

"Are you going to have the radio on late?"

Before I can reply, he says, "like, after 10pm? I mean, you can play it, play the radio all night long, just keep it down."

I nod again, he accepts. Then he tells me that he won't rent the spot next to me out for as long as we stay.

We end up with a massive yard, bigger than most city dwellers will ever know, and the sun sets through a strangler fig absorbing a palm tree every night.

Big Cypress is ours for the taking, and we do just that, from this perfect little (expensive) hideaway.