A Haunted Bridge & A Taste of the Florida Trail

It was a slow start to the New Year. We kind of dragged ourselves into it, but once we got going, we found a little energy and lots of neat stuff to do. We were departing Tallahassee when our son, Brennan, called and mentioned a hike to a haunted bridge not too far away. Haunted bridge? Where? The Bellamy Bridge in Marianna, Florida, only about an hour away to the west, became our new next destination.

According to their website and I paraphrase, the Bellamy Bridge Heritage Trail is a 1/2 mile long and provides access to historic Bellamy Bridge. Built in 1914, Bellamy Bridge, which spanned the Chipola River, is the oldest structure of its type in Florida. It’s also the main draw to what some call the “most haunted spot in Florida.” Several local ghost stories involve the bridge and trail, including the story of an early 19th century moonshiner murder and the tale of a wagon driven by a headless driver. The story that brings most visitors to the bridge, however, is that of Elizabeth Jane Croom Bellamy, a young woman who died nearby in 1837 and she’s been dubbed the “Ghost of Bellamy Bridge.” Her restless spirit is said to appear at and around Bellamy Bridge. Eyewitness accounts of strange manifestations at the site date back to the 1800s with many variations of the story. The bridge remained in use until 1963 when it was declared obsolete and replaced by a concrete bridge on County Road 162.

Though the trail is only ½ mile long, we walked much longer since we initially started out at the wrong trailhead. After nearly a mile heading in the wrong direction, we figured out our error, retraced our steps, found the correct trailhead and headed for the Bellamy Bridge.

Though there was a clear-cut path, it was a creepy place. Perhaps because we’d read about the ghost, we were expecting something to happen. There was no one else on the trail and there was no birdsong. It was eerily quiet. The sky was gray and the air was thick with humidity, almost oppressive. A wooden bridge across a stream had been washed out and required picking and balancing our way across logs. Previous hikers had graciously left rude walking sticks to help and we managed the crossing without getting wet. (Note to self: Always bring trekking poles when going on a road trip.)

I probably would have given the stream crossing a pass, but David opted to continue and I somewhat reluctantly followed. Turned out, it was easy. It became creepier and creepier as we progressed. The path seemed to get narrower as if it was closing in on us. Dead branches and fallen trees littered the trail. We finally reached the remains of the skeleton of a bridge… just the rusting iron frame remained. There appeared to be no way to safely cross that we could see. As I was posing for the requisite haunted bridge picture, I was startled when I saw a hand shoot out from under the bridge. Yikes!

Only the iron skeleton of the Bellamy Bridge remains.

No, it wasn’t a ghost. It was, we discovered, a young Serbian fellow who was visiting the area and trying to figure out a way to cross the river. We hadn’t seen nor heard him, so his presence had taken us aback. After hanging, clinging and shimmying like a monkey for a few feet, he gave up his attempt and returned to his starting place under the bridge, getting quite soaked in the process as he tried to lower himself and lost his balance. We retraced our steps with nary a restless spirit making an appearance. There are nighttime ghost walks along this path, but we gave the idea a pass and moved on.

Returning to the car, we felt a few sprinkles and subsequently as we got back on the road, it seemed as if the sky was falling. The thunder and lightning boomed and flashed around us and the heavy rain made it almost impossible to see. Our mobile phones startled us as they yawped when the National Weather Service issued a tornado watch, followed moments later by a tornado warning. We scoured the horizon and ominous dark sky for any funnel clouds. As we proceeded along the route, the sky became darker and darker and the warnings persisted. The torrential rain finally dissipated a bit and the temperature fell 10 degrees in a matter of minutes.

The weather forecast was a bit unsettling and we scoured the darkened horizon for funnel clouds.

We’re still here to write about our little adventure and thus we made it through unscathed, breathing a bit easier. We spent the night in Niceville, Florida, gaining a previously lost hour as we crossed into the Central Time Zone. We contemplated the town’s name: Niceville. We reckoned the local football team would be called the Niceville Kittens or maybe the Niceville Friendly Neighbors, both nice. But, no, they were the eagles… a little disappointing.

Compared to the 70+ degree temps yesterday, today we were freezing and bundled up for our walk.

David regularly checks our AllTrails app to determine what nearby trails we might walk. Today it was the Florida Trail. The Florida National Scenic Trail is a 1,500 mile federally designated trail with a southern terminus at Big Cypress National Preserve in the Everglades and the northern terminus at Gulf Islands National Seashore. A small section of the trail was close by and we decided it would make a great morning stroll. We’d seen a sign en route warning of bears in the area. And this is Florida, would there be alligators along our path? 'There is an alligator in just about every body of water in all 67 Florida counties, so the answer is always yes.’ Hmm… tornadoes yesterday; today, alligators and bears. A very comforting place to walk, not to mention, it was freezing today.

The trail was well-marked.

A sandy, pine needle covered trail

The trail, covered in dried pine needles was flat and sandy and mostly soft underfoot . A few areas were heavily rooted, but easy enough to maneuver, although, once again, our trekking poles would have been useful. American holly trees were everywhere, their red berries and bright waxy green leaves dominant in the green/brown forest. Saw palmettos fanned out along the trail and from a distance, tufts of deer moss looked like patches of snow.

A bridge across the Pearl Creek was picturesque and sturdy, not to mention it kept our feet dry.

We thought at first that the color of the water was due to algae, but soon discovered the water was crystal clear with a sandy bottom.

We checked out the Pearl Campsite conveniently located just a few yards off the route. A clearing with wooden benches and a fire ring looked pleasant and posts with large rings for hanging hammocks insured campers could sleep without fear of the local creepy crawlers invading during the night.

We learned about the blaze system used on the trail. Most helpful if we were to do a through-hike.

The trail proceeded onto the Elgin Air Force Base and continuing would have required a permit, necessary but free for through-hikers. It was time to turn back and think about a future hike on this trail. One more long hike to consider. They’re really adding up. So many trails, so little time.

Next time… across the Gulf Coast and on to San Antonio’s Missions.