Recently, I had the pleasure of visiting Myakka River State Park in Sarasota County and listening to a talk about the history and management of the park. This was organized as part of a retreat for environmental agents in the Southwest Extension District and was a way for us to get together, network, and learn from and with each other.

I have been to Myakka River State Park before, and it is already a wonderful place to visit, but I learned so much during the short time we spent there talking with park staff about the history of the park, invasive plant management, restoration, and some of the challenges they deal with every day. I decided to share some of what I learned because I took copious notes and found much of it to be very fascinating and worth sharing.

More importantly, I hope this encourages a few people to visit Myakka River State Park and maybe put a little more thought into how much effort, knowledge, and collaboration it takes to keep our natural areas as natural as possible.

Enjoy my nerd ramblings below!

A little park history

We started the talk by going into the history of the park, and despite living so close to this park for most of my life, I knew almost none of its history. Nor was I expecting so much history. I thought we were going to talk strictly about invasive plant ID and management, but what I quickly learned was that the history is incredibly important to the management of the park and understanding why the landscape looks the way it does today.

I also found it surprisingly inspiring to hear the names and stories of so many past and present park staff, biologists, volunteers, and others who have contributed to the park over the years. We live in a rapidly changing and often overwhelming world, and for this tragic optimist with an occasional tendency toward existential nihilism, there was something comforting about hearing about people who may not be widely known outside of a few park enthusiasts, but whose work continues to have a real, tangible impact on the land we were standing on.

Side conversation aside, here are a few things I learned about the park:

Myakka River State Park encompasses more than 37,000 acres, including large expanses of Florida dry prairie and depression marshes.
- If you’re unfamiliar with what a Florida dry prairie is, think wide-open, mostly treeless expanses of grasses, wildflowers, and low-growing shrubs like our very familiar saw palmetto. It is a fire-dependent ecosystem and, despite looking relatively simple from a distance, Florida State Parks describes it as the second-most biodiverse ecosystem in North America.
The park is part of an even larger conservation landscape known as the “Myakka Island,” encompassing more than 80,000 acres of conservation lands across Sarasota and Manatee counties.
The Myakka River is Florida’s first state-designated Wild and Scenic River.
Before becoming the park we know today, portions of the property were used for cattle ranching. Remnants of that history, including old cattle dipping vats, remain protected within the park.
The Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) played a major role in developing Myakka River State Park in the 1930s. They constructed cabins, roads, trails, picnic pavilions, and other structures, many of which visitors can still see and use today.
Their work also demonstrates how our understanding of natural-resource management changes over time. The CCC was crucial to the early development of the park, but fire suppression during this period also altered the landscape. Without frequent fire, hardwoods expanded into areas that historically were open Florida dry prairie. Today, prescribed fire is one of the tools used to maintain and restore this fire-dependent ecosystem.
Park managers also use historic aerial photographs from the 1940s to help understand what the landscape looked like in the past and guide decisions about what they are trying to restore.

That last point really stuck with me. The landscape you see when you visit a natural area is not necessarily what that landscape looked like 50 or 100 years ago. Managing it requires understanding not only what is there now, but what happened there in the past and, ultimately, what are we trying to restore it to.

Three people gather around a picnic table while a Myakka River State Park staff member points to historic maps and aerial photographs of the park. — Park staff walking us through the history and management of Myakka River State Park using historic maps and photographs.

Black-and-white 1940 aerial photograph of Myakka River State Park showing large open prairie areas, scattered wetlands and patches of trees, with modern management boundaries and other markings overlaid on the image. — A 1940 historic aerial image of Myakka River State Park. Park managers can compare historic imagery like this with current conditions to better understand how the landscape has changed over time and help guide management decisions.

Managing the uplands

From there, we talked about management of the uplands, particularly the Florida dry prairie.

Fire is one of the most important management tools at Myakka. We learned that park staff try to burn approximately 10,000 acres per year. Prescribed fire helps maintain the dry prairie and counter some of the changes that occurred during decades of fire suppression.

But even fire management is more complicated than simply burning an area. Wetlands, historic hammocks, water depth, weather, plants, wildlife, and what would have historically burned all have to be considered when deciding how and where to use prescribed fire.

Then, of course, we got into the weeds—literally.

The three major invasive plant priorities discussed for the uplands were:

Cogongrass (Imperata cylindrica) – the park’s number one upland invasive plant priority. It can form incredibly dense stands and has an extensive rhizome system that makes it particularly difficult to control. We even learned about a distinct variant of cogongrass found at Myakka that has been studied by researchers. I thought this was another interesting example of why protecting natural areas is important, not only for recreation and conservation, but also for research and learning.
Lygodium – both Old World climbing fern (Lygodium microphyllum) and Japanese climbing fern (L. japonicum) occur in the park. Identification can be made more complicated by native look-alikes.
Brazilian pepper (Schinus terebinthifolia) – another major management priority, particularly in hammock areas.

As an Extension educator and integrated pest management (IPM)’s number one fan, one thing I appreciated throughout the discussion was that invasive plant management was never presented as simply, “There is a weed, so spray it.” It was so much more complicated and nuanced than that.

Herbicides are an incredibly important tool, but deciding whether, where, when, and how to use them requires knowledge of the surrounding plant community and the management goal for that particular area. The park uses multiple approaches, including prescribed fire, herbicides, biological control, physical removal, and education.

Volunteers also play a surprisingly important role. For example, volunteers help physically collect air potato bulbils and remove Caesarweed. These projects allow people to directly contribute to invasive plant management without handling herbicides. Scout groups, community organizations, businesses, and other volunteers have all contributed to these efforts.

Education itself is also a management tool. Something as simple as teaching visitors to recognize an invasive plant—or reminding someone not to pick invasive seeds off their socks and throw them back into the woods—can help prevent further spread.

Native climbing fern specimen with a slender, twining stem and small divided green fronds laid on a wooden picnic table. — A native species examined during our visit. Native look-alikes can complicate identification when managing invasive Lygodium species.

Several plant specimens, including grasses, ferns, and vines, laid across a wooden picnic table during a plant identification discussion — A few of the plants we examined during our discussion of invasive plant identification and management at Myakka River State Park.

Old World climbing fern specimen with a long, slender stem and branching, deeply lobed green fronds laid on a wooden picnic table. — Invasive Climbing fern

Down to the floodplain

We then moved from the uplands down toward Upper Myakka Lake and the floodplain, where the management challenges change considerably.

The Myakka River is largely rain-fed, and water levels can fluctuate dramatically. The same lake that is several feet deep during wetter periods can become incredibly shallow during the dry season.

That dynamic hydrology affects everything from recreation to vegetation and invasive plant management.

One of the biggest differences that stood out to me was how different managing an aquatic or floodplain invasive plant can be from managing one in the uplands.

The park’s number one invasive plant priority in the river system is para grass. Interestingly, there is documentation of para grass being intentionally planted in this area for cattle forage as early as 1905. More than a century later, park managers are dealing with the consequences.

Para grass can form huge, nearly impenetrable monocultures along the shoreline. Staff have even observed that dense stands can prevent alligators from easily accessing the bank.

Managing it requires more than simply applying an herbicide. The strategy discussed during our visit was described as the “golden triangle: treat, burn, flood.” The plant is treated with herbicide, burned, and then exposed to flooding to place multiple stresses on it.

I thought this was such a good example of just how much planning can go into managing what, to the average visitor, might simply look like a bunch of grass along the water.

Dense green stands of para grass growing along the shoreline of a waterway at Myakka River State Park, with palms and other vegetation in the background. — Dense stands of para grass (Urochloa mutica) growing along the water at Myakka River State Park.

Myakka River State Park staff member holds a long para grass stem while standing beside dense stands of the invasive grass along the water. — Park staff showing us para grass (Urochloa mutica) along the Myakka River and discussing the challenges of managing this invasive grass in the floodplain.

Changing the river itself

One of my favorite parts of the discussion was learning about the old weir, or dam, on the Myakka River.

The structure was originally constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the late 1930s and early 1940s. It was intended to extend the wet season and maintain water levels, with another goal being to improve waterfowl habitat.

Again, these decisions were made with good intentions based on the knowledge and priorities of the time.

Eventually, however, the question became whether the aging structure should continue to be repaired or whether removing it and allowing the river to function more naturally would provide greater benefits.

The weir was ultimately removed in 2022.

Prior to removal, a feasibility study estimated that average lake levels would decrease by approximately 0.8 feet, potentially creating around 60 additional acres of wetland habitat.

What I particularly liked about this discussion was that the answer to “Did it work?” is currently basically: we don’t know yet.

The years since its removal have also been exceptionally dry, making it difficult to separate the effects of removing the structure from natural variation in rainfall. This structure influenced the river for decades. Understanding what happens after its removal will also take time.

I had no idea any of this was going on before this visit, despite having visited Myakka before.

Another dam farther downstream has also been removed, and park staff have been tracking manatee observations since 2012. They have recorded substantially more manatee observations following removal of that downstream barrier, providing another interesting piece of the ongoing story of restoring connectivity and natural hydrology to the river.

A long, low section of rough stone and concrete from the former Myakka River weir resting on the ground at Myakka River State Park. — A preserved section of the weir removed from the Myakka River in 2022, providing a tangible reminder of the structure that influenced the river’s hydrology for decades.

Restoration doesn’t stop with removing something

Another theme I appreciated throughout the visit was that restoration isn’t simply about removing what you don’t want. You also have to think about what you want to come back in its place.

Myakka River State Park has started its own native plant nursery, where staff are propagating plants for restoration projects.

One particularly interesting project involves the lake itself.

The Myakka River system contains invasive fish, including tilapia and armored catfish, which can affect aquatic vegetation. Staff have observed native floating-leaved plants reappearing following cold winters and fish die-offs, only to disappear again as invasive fish populations recover.

The park is now partnering with FWC on an experimental restoration project. Native aquatic plants are being propagated, and fenced enclosures are planned in the lake to exclude invasive fish and investigate which plants can successfully establish when protected from them.

So, if you visit Myakka in the future and notice some strange-looking enclosures out in the lake, there may be a lot more science happening inside them than you realize.

This was just one of several examples throughout the day of the park working with other agencies, organizations, researchers, volunteers, and community partners to find new ways to address the challenges facing our natural areas.

Seeing Myakka a little differently

I went into this visit expecting to learn a little more about invasive plants, and I definitely did. I improved my plant identification and management knowledge, and I know I will be much more informed (and much more annoying to whoever is hiking with me) on future nature walks.

But I think the bigger thing I took away was an appreciation for the history and people behind the landscape.

A natural area like Myakka does not simply stay “natural” because someone drew a boundary around it and called it a park. There are people conducting prescribed burns, controlling invasive species, restoring native plants, monitoring wildlife, studying hydrology, comparing historic aerial photographs, maintaining trails, coordinating volunteers, experimenting with new management approaches, and making difficult decisions about what this landscape should look like in another 50 or 100 years.

Learning about that history gave me a greater sense of connection to a place I had already visited and enjoyed. It also gave me a renewed appreciation for the people—past and present—who contribute their small piece to preserving places like this for everyone who comes after them.

And, of course, this work is not unique to Myakka. Similar work is happening in parks and preserves throughout Florida, including right here in Manatee County. Myakka just happened to be the place where I had the opportunity to learn more about what goes on behind the scenes. So, consider this an appreciation post for Myakka, but also a reminder to appreciate the parks, preserves, and people caring for natural areas in your own backyard.

If you haven’t been to Myakka River State Park in Sarasota County, or if it has been a while, I highly recommend putting it on your list.

Myakka River State Park information

And maybe when you visit—whether it’s Myakka or one of the natural areas closer to home—take a second to look beyond the alligators, birds, beautiful views, and trails and think about just how much history, science, management, and human effort is hidden in the landscape around you.