Finding Cacita

When most people in Miami think of hunting, they think of driving to a hunt club, lease, or outfitter in North Florida, Georgia, etc.

Not me. I was taken as a young lad down Tamiami trail mainly into Loop Unit for the first time about 14¬†years ago. I remember telling my dad, “there’s no way that there are deer in here”. And about 30 minutes later, heard a big splashing follows by trotting away. I was hooked.

I remember one day while sloshing through we found a trail which led to a camp. Complete with two bunk beds. There were subtrails leadin to a swamp, a hammock, etc. There were welded tree stands about 60 feet up on dead trees. This was obviously a hunting camp used for years, when vehicles were allowed to roam the loop.

This place was only 1.5 miles in, but it was the longest hike through swamp and cypress to get there. It was our own secret spot, which someone else had abandoned. I ad seen deer there while camping and hunting, but we never caught one. We always wondered how we were going to drag a buck out of here, but never got the chance.

One day, while scouting, we found about 12 different tirds in about a 10ft x 10ft area. There were thick, and smelly, and looked like human feces, soft in the shape of a big Hershey kiss. I apologize for being so detailed, but to this day am unable to identify the animal that did that. Our best guess was bears. And that’s when the place got it’s name…Cacita. Pronounced cah-cay-ta in English. It’s a nickname for caca.

So now, 10 years since going Cacita, having the coordinates, I wanted to go back and check it out. A previous expedition last year led to lots of fallen trees and no sign of the trail, which was blazed pink (or faded hunter orange). I tried follow te coordinates, but ran out of water, and rain was creeping up.

So last weekend, I was able to recruit a buddy who was facinated with tales of this mystical place, and a scouting expedition was planned. We loaded up on water, got to the edge of a hammock, and pointed straight for the coordinates. After 5 hours of sun, green briar, fallen trees, and the thickest brush I’ve ever had to machete through, to travel about a mile, I saw a shotgun shell on the floor (Sign of human!!!). Follow by a single spray marking. We rested, and then looked for more markings….nothing.

Nothing but thick brush in evey direction, I may conclude that in 10 years, the Everglades has fully devoured Cacita. And it can only be found in my childhood memories, and those of my father. I may try again to find those bunk beds, but not in the near future.

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