Reprinted Courtesy of the Wall Street Journal

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By Adam H. Graham

I walk along a narrow boardwalk that crawls low over a swamp. The smell of decay hangs in the humid air as shards of light pierce the dense cypress canopy, illuminating patches of fern and bromeliad. By design, only one side of the boardwalk has a railing. On the other—inches below my feet—is water that is tannic and amber with a clarity akin to consommé. As the late afternoon light disappears, and various croaks and groans begin their evening chorus, a thunderous splash ahead reminds me that I’m not the biggest animal around. One misstep here and I’m gator supper.

The Cypress Swamp Trail in Highlands Hammock State Park—9,000 acres of pine forests, wild orange groves, wetland and endangered scrub habitat—feels worlds apart from sunny, tropical Florida. It is just one of many natural wonders on this state’s little-known Lake Wales Ridge, a 100-mile stretch of Florida’s interior running from Clermont in Lake County to Venus in Highlands County. The ridge is made up of ancient dunes that aren’t only a biodiversity hot spot, but also among Florida’s highest places, topping out at Sugarloaf Mountain’s 312 feet. Two million years ago, this ridge was a series of islands and the rest of the state was underwater. As a result, some of the flora and fauna here evolved separately—Galapagos-like—from those in the rest of the state.

Unlike tourists who make a beeline for the state’s beaches, those of us who grew up in Florida frequently seek out the mysteries of its interior. When I was growing up on an island off the East Coast of Central Florida, we frequently went inland to cool off at the hundreds of crystal-clear swimmable natural springs that punctuate the territory. School field trips hauled us to old mill towns, historic sugar plantations and Seminole War battlefields in the state’s center.

My summer camp was an hour inland. When hurricanes swept across the state, we retreated to the sturdy interior. When we Floridians want to hike, ride horseback or canoe, we head for the center to seek the shade of hickory, oak and evergreen forests, just like the panthers, manatees, black bears and native birds do.

If that wasn’t enough, you can find quirky farmers markets, palm-studded cattle ranches, isolated scenic byways and untrammeled state and country parks.

An aerial view of I-95 in Miami, the main artery for traveling north and south in Florida. Photo: Alamy

Try zigzagging

Recently I took a road trip through Central Florida’s interior. It’s a trip more visitors should try. You could follow I-95 as a kind of north-south spine, like most tourists do. But to get a better understanding of this region, consider zigzagging east and west on back roads, go north and south and north again across county lines. The light changes with your direction, so you’ll always see something new. 

A good place to start would be in Ocala, about one hour northwest of Orlando, and arguably the best place to base yourself to explore the many nearby springs. Silver Springs, once a privately owned theme park, became a state park in 2013 and remains beloved for its glass-bottom boats that reveal sunfish, blue carp and a local fish called crawl-a-bottom in a lagoon so crystal clear it was used by Hollywood to film Tarzan and numerous other aquatic-themed films in the 1920s and 30s.

Another spring, Devil’s Den, is a sunken cave filled with water. It’s popular with snorkelers and scubadivers who seek out its stalactites and fossil beds dating back 33 million years. Juniper Springs Recreation Area is one of my favorites, especially Juniper Run, a canoe trail that glides over azure springs bubbling up through sandy bottom creating a dreamy experience under the sun-dappled Juniper canopy. 

Passengers on a glass bottom boat look at fish swimming in the waters at Silver Springs State Park. Photo: Jeffrey Greenberg/Universal Images Group/Getty Images

Scuba divers stand on a platform inside the cavern at Devil’s Den Spring in Williston, Fla. Photo: Alamy

DIY Pancakes

Another nostalgic favorite of mine is De Leon Springs State Park, a go-to of the summer-recreation program I attended as a teenager. The springs are beautiful, but cemented in, so not the most natural feeling. But locals come here also for the DIY pancakes at the Old Sugar Mill Pancake House. Here, pitchers of pancake batter—five grain or white—are brought to the griddle-topped tables where customers cook up their own flapjacks aside slabs of hickory-smoked bacon and top it all off with Florida strawberries, pecans and molasses or honey. The park is also a great place to rent stand-up paddle boards, kayaks or canoes, although gators patrol these waters so be careful.

I accompanied Joan Tague, a Halifax River Audubon Society volunteer, on a few of her free walks to Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge and Ocala National Forest. We saw brilliant-yellow-throated warblers, mischievous otters and an alligator devouring a plump, purple gallinule. It felt more like a Serengeti safari than certain animal parks do.

It’s satisfying to see so many untouched places, for now, in a state that’s having a population boom. So many people move to Florida every day, Ms. Tague says as we walk through Lake Woodruff’s 22,000 protected acres with binocs around our necks. “I myself am a transplant, so who am I to judge others?” she says. “The fact is we all have to get smart about how to best accommodate everyone and still preserve the wild, wonderful places that are so precious here.”

The attractions of interior Florida aren’t limited to the natural world. Ocala has established itself as a serious destination for equestrians and novice riders as well. In 2021, the largest equestrian facility in the U.S. opened in Ocala—the 4,000-acre World Equestrian Center, which includes a resort with seven restaurants and a spa. The center’s climate-controlled stables can accommodate more than 2,000 horses, and on Saturday nights riders and horses sometimes compete for prizes exceeding $100,000. Similar local equine attractions: Grandview Clydesdales, a farm where the eponymous horses are raised; Vintage Carriage Tours, ideal for multigenerational groups; riding trails; and riding classes under canopies of live oaks draped in Spanish moss. 

Further south, towns around Orlando beg to be explored. Mount Dora is known for its wedding cake Victorian architecture and antique shops. The college town of DeLand is home to Stetson University and a Friday-night food and crafts market where you can graze on empanadas and bay-laurel-honey-ice-cream sandwiches while shopping for locally grown citrus, purple tomatillos and chestnut mushrooms. Historic Eatonville, with its shotgun houses and lush backyard gardens, recalls a bygone era. It is one of America’s first all-Black communities and birthplace of the author and anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston. You can learn more about her at the town’s museum named after her.

A horse in a pasture south of Ocala, Fla., which has become a serious destination for equestrians. Photo: MyLoupe/UIG/Getty Images

A rare bird

The wildlife-watching in these parts is interesting as well. To catch a glimpse of the rare Florida scrub-jay, head to the Lyonia Preserve, in Deltona, a part of the Great Florida Birding and Wildlife Trail. These cool blue sentinels, which exist only in Central Florida, perch atop the pines on sandy trails behind the public library. Take a 7-mile-loop trail in the Black Bear Wilderness Area in Sanford to see the namesake bears. At Blue Spring State Park, from November to April, visitors frequently see manatees warming themselves in the sun, scary-looking Florida gar fish, and woodpeckers and warblers migrating along the St. John’s River. Long before I-95 arrived, this river was a highway for steamboats carrying Gilded-Age New Yorkers and Europeans into what was then a very chic and exotic interior Florida. 

For inland places that surprise tourists and residents alike, try the Frank Lloyd Wright Visitor Center at Florida Southern College in Lakeland. The campus has 13 Wright-designed structures, according to the college website, and the center hosts regular exhibits on the iconic architect, making it a mecca for pilgrims of architecture. Further south, the 39-mile Ridge Scenic Highway winds along rolling hills and dairy farms from Lake Wales to Frostproof and feels more like Vermont than it does Florida.

Stop for lunch in Frostproof, as I did recently. The Roost at Four Seasons, a roadside diner unaffiliated with the fancy resort of the same name, attracts sun-tanned cattle ranchers in cowboy hats who come for $10 plates of liver and onions and cooked-to-order fried chicken. It isn’t the postcard picture of Florida. It’s an honest glimpse of what goes on here beyond the beaches.

A footbridge winds through a swamp dotted with cypress trees in Highlands Hammock State Park. Photo: Alamy

Mr. Graham is a writer who grew up in Florida but is now based in Zurich. He can be reached at reports@wsj.com.