Maybe it's because of where it is located - smack in the middle of Space Central - but getting to Canaveral National Seashore can be like cracking a code.

The seashore is divided into two parts - and you can't get to one from the other.

The northernmost section begins at the edge of New Smyrna Beach (just drive to the ocean and turn right). When the waterfront homes end, you are there. When everything man-made disappears, you've found the reason for coming. The North District is open daily except when there are shuttle launches. You can pick up brochures on the local wildlife, rules and maps at the park's visitor center, which is open year 'round except for Christmas.

Once inside, you'll need to look for designated parking. The spots are clearly marked and are a startling contrast to the buffers of saw palmetto, yucca, beach berries and sunflowers. The foliage is stunning, a thick carpet covering nearly six miles before it breaks to give a glimpse of the Atlantic to the east and Mosquito Lagoon to the west.

The refuge is a more thickly wooded version of Canaveral National Seashore and home to more than 500 species of wildlife, including 10 active bald eagle nests and hundreds of manatees in the spring.


Just before the natural cul de sac, though, is a breathtaking drop that reveals tiers of palm trees and a landscape that looks more like a deserted island than a break from mainstream Florida. That moment of surprise is a taste of nirvana. Originally designed as a buffer zone for NASA, the park thrives under the authority of the National Park Service. It is a no-frills relationship, with limited parking and even fewer creature comforts. There is no place to grab a burger. Or a Coke. Bathroom facilities are primitive. Still, you don't mind. After all, it's not every day you can hike a self-guided trail to the top of a Timucuan Indian mound. All you have to do is walk down to the coarse, ecru-colored sand, and you can rationalize that a lack of creature comforts is a way of weeding out the unadventurous, leaving only you and a few other hardy souls to enjoy this beautiful beach.

Mosquito Lagoon is another scenic spot. This estuary fills the gap between the National Seashore's North and South districts (the southern portion is accessible from Titusville on Route 406/402). It screams for a kayak or canoe. Or a fly rod. But this wet border explains that, while you may look at a map and think you can head down the coast, you can't. You'll also discover that there is no quick way across the Kennedy Space Center. Take 402 to Playalinda Beach, which is probably best known to Floridians for its headlines involving nude bathing arrests. Klondike Beach is only reachable on foot, bicycle or horseback (horseback by permit and only when sea turtles aren't nesting).

One other caveat: Playalinda's schedule is keyed to the Kennedy Space Center's schedule. It is closed three days before a launch and the day of a landing. Call to make sure you are in synch. Backpacking and camping in areas along Klondike Beach are also prohibited when there is launch activity. The good news is that while the beach may be closed occasionally, the area known as the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge is open. The refuge is a more thickly wooded version of Canaveral National Seashore and home to more than 500 species of wildlife, including 10 active bald eagle nests and hundreds of manatees in the spring.

Discover the backwaters of Mosquito Lagoon, which makes up two-thirds of the park, via a pontoon boat with a National Park Ranger. The two-hour journey departs from the Visitor Center on most Sundays, weather permitting.

If you've timed Playalinda wrong, enjoy the drive through the refuge along Black Point Wildlife Drive - popular with tourists in convertibles as well as bikers in leather - and head toward New Smyrna Beach. About halfway along the wildlife drive is the trailhead for the five-mile Cruickshank Trail, a grand loop with an observation tower a mere five minutes from the parking area.