Sports & Recreation

You live where other people dream of taking their vacations. Sure you have to go to work during the weekdays and sitting in I-95 traffic with a broken A/C in the long summer months is sucktastic. But toss on a pair of rubber flip-flops and stroll down to a beachside bar and you're on instant vacation. If you're looking to get more away from it all in the middle of it all, there's the Coastal Hammock Trail at Hugh Taylor Birch State Park. Smack in the middle of Fort Lauderdale, the park is literally "an oasis of tropical hammocks." Not the kind you lounge in with a daiquiri but the kind built over hundreds of years by cypress trees. For an entrance fee of just $2 to $4, here you'll find the few old-growth trees east of 95 that weren't ripped out for rabid development. That's because this pristine natural area was once part of Birch's estate. The park now is the destination for urban kayakers because of the milelong freshwater lagoon, but the Coastal Hammock Trail — another of the four distinct habitat "communities" within the park — is not to be missed either. The trail is a "native maritime tropical hardwood hammock ecosystem" offering signs along the way explaining the native vegetation. It's the perfect walk for the afternoon nature lover because it's conveniently located, and the entire trail is only a 20-minute walk. Afterward, you can visit the beach by taking the pedestrian tunnel that runs under A1A.

At daybreak, before the Maseratis and the Duck Tours clog A1A, before the sand temperature matches that of the coals on the grill, before the throngs of socks- and Teva-wearing tourists kick sand on your towel, Fort Lauderdale Beach is yours. You know it's worth waking up early for the sunrise, so by 6 a.m., you've already staked your claim in the sand, glowing pink from the morning's first rays. Here, there is more space for your volleyballing and picnicking than anywhere else, with courts and benches and grills you've already claimed for the day. Here, you know the tricks to finding the best parking (which has been made infinitely easier with a years-long parking project now complete). Here, there may be rules, but you know how to break those rules, because this is your beach. So have another mimosa and let your dog fetch some driftwood. At least until the lifeguards show up.

Parks, we've got a few here in the Sunshine State — 161 state parks alone. But while plenty of states can boast of plenty of parks — some with giant redwoods and others with grand holes in the ground — in Florida, we have more of one thing than almost anyone else: beaches. So it only stands to reason that one of our best local parks would include a beach. The park is named after John U. Lloyd, who served as the Broward County attorney for more than 30 years — which isn't a particularly poetic origin story, but Johnnie was the guy responsible for securing the land for our public use, so he deserves to be commemorated. The park offers more than just miles of perfect South Florida beach with pavilions and picnic tables. Activities include fishing, surf casting, canoeing, swimming, boating, and kayaking. Enjoy the wildlife, including the manatee sanctuary at Whiskey Creek — just do not ride, touch, pet, or otherwise molest our precious sea cows.

Not all dogs are created equal. Some fit in handbags. Others stand taller than their owners. And some may very well consume as much chicken as their owner on Wing Night. At Happy Tails Dog Park, all dog's creatures — especially those in need of a good run — can frolic together in harmony in this five-acre mecca designed for man's best friend. There's an agility course where your Westminster-in-training terrier can practice his high jump. There's a huge pathway that Master can walk along while Fido plays fetch. And the park is divvied into weight-restricted sections to keep your two-ounce chihuahua away from the Rottweilers. A home-run slide in poo is rare here. Not only does the park provide bins and bags for the inevitable but visitors actually use them. And the only time you'll have to pay to get in is during Doggiepalooza, an annual event typically held in January where $1 gets you access to every kind of pet product you've never heard of but suddenly have to buy. Who knows? You might even adopt a friend for your man's best friend.

Surfing is a state of mind, they say. It's not so much a destination but a journey of the soul. But you do actually have to go to a destination to surf. No need to drive forever and wind your way to some secret spot when there are miles of coastline smack in the middle of the city. So wax up the deck and get riding here off A1A between Belmar Street and Viramar Street. This spot can get littered with tourists from time to time, but the way the wind kicks up and the waves rush in toward the shore, it's worth fighting them for parking. When a tropical depression hits, it's all yours.

Motors have ruined boating. There was a time when taking to the sea meant adventure — just you and your vessel, fighting nature together, working as one to tame that violent lover known as the ocean. Gone are those days. Now you just hit a button and let technology do all the work while Jimmy Buffett sings you a song about a hot dog or something. Damn you, Buffett. But all is not lost! There is still a way to capture that primal feeling of oneness with the water, to wave goodbye to land, just you and a paddle, floating inches above the water, staring manatees right in their cold, dead, vegetarian eyes. The kayak. A piece of technology seemingly tailor-made for South Florida's canals. And there is no better place in Broward to recapture your inner seaman than Middle River. Launch off at George English Park (it's free, though the iguanas will try to intimidate you) and begin your journey. Paddle north for a more residential and serene route. Feel free to judge everyone's backyard along the way. Or go south toward the bustling Intracoastal, where you'll experience wide-open canals and, if you go far enough, waterfront bars. But drink responsibly, and keep your head on a swivel. We've lost good people to sneaky pelicans.

Trampolines were an exercise fad in the '80s. Every kid's mom had one sitting out in the garage completely unused. And a large percentage of those kids who lived in South Florida set it up next to the pool to use as a springboard. A percentage of those kids were grounded for life after jumping off the roof onto them. The trampolines at SkyZone are nothing like those, but for '80s kids who lived through such dangerous high jinks and now have kids of their own, the nostalgia will still be sweet. Fans of reality TV will also enjoy the fact that the Fort Lauderdale location was featured in the season finale of Undercover Boss. SkyZone claims to be the original trampoline park, with the Fort Lauderdale spot adding the boast of being the largest in South Florida. Let the kids tire themselves out or go childless for SkyFitness classes, and bounce those unwanted pounds away. See? Every trend comes full circle.

Diving with sharks is not for the faint of heart, and it's not for the faint of wallet either. But then again, there are some things in life you shouldn't bargain-hunt, and haggling with the guy who may soon be pulling you from the literal jaws of death is probably not a good idea. Wouldn't want him to choose that moment to renegotiate! OK, so Force-E leads dive trips to Bimini specifically to see hammerheads, but it's not actually all sharks down there. The company leads wreck dives and spearfishing classes as well as short and sweet beginner dives to look at fish and reefs and turtles. You live in South Florida near a patch of the most beautiful ocean in the world, and you should take advantage of it. Force-E has been a family-run business helping locals and tourists explore our underwater sites since 1976. Owners Skip and Kathy Commagere met while diving in the '70s and today are the proud owners of three Force-E locations, in Riviera Beach, Boca Raton, and Pompano Beach. They both sell and rent equipment and have 15 certified instructors on staff. Join up with the Force-E crew for one of their group dives, beach cleanups, lectures, lionfish hunts, or other events.

Your friends, family, and acquaintances will find their way to the beach. Just tell them to head east. But to make it through the urban sprawl to the oasis that is Butterfly World, they might need a guide. On ten acres of botanical gardens, you will find more than 20,000 butterflies representing 50 species — and they will not be afraid to rest on your shoulder. A wide variety of hummingbirds is on display also, and if you're feeling generous, you can buy a cup of nectar to feed the charming Lorikeets (just be advised not to wear a new shirt, as these birds ain't too proud to relieve themselves on you). Admission for adults is $26.95, but the website has a $3 coupon. If leaving Butterfly World brings tears to your eyes and sadness to your heart, it does have a fantastic plant shop where you can take home vegetation that will attract butterflies to your front stoop.

It's easy to forget that Fort Lauderdale is only a 90-minute drive to a different ecosystem. At John Pennekamp, the first undersea state park in America, you'll see fish of every size, shape, and color. For $29.95 (plus an $8 park entry fee per vehicle and equipment rental if you need it), take a relaxing boat ride to one of the most pristine snorkeling spots imaginable, then hop in the clear blue waters. The variety of fish and coral at a depth of only a few feet is incredible. Of particular note is the rainbow parrotfish, whose name is a misnomer, because the spectrum of colors on its scales puts to shame both rainbows and parrots. Snorkeling isn't the only way to enjoy the park: Glass-bottom boat tours, scuba dives, kayak trips, and powerboat rentals are options as well. Reservations are advisable for one of the four daily tours (especially on weekends), and it's always smart to call ahead about weather and to see if those pesky jellyfish are out.

Less than a three-hour drive from Broward County past Lake Okeechobee and west through the town of Arcadia, you cross Peace River. The name comes from the peaceful conditions of the flow of water, making it no trouble to paddle upstream through water that's reddened by the shallow conditions. If you bring your own canoe, you can park at many different spots along the river and paddle your way back. Otherwise, you can rent canoes from Peace River Campground or Canoe Outpost (with the price of rental dependent upon how long you choose to feel the Peace) — included in Canoe Outpost's rental price is bus service, so you need to paddle only one way, then hitch a ride back to your car. Campgrounds line the river to make it a true all-weekend experience you will never wish to forget. Live oak trees with the breeze whistling through their Spanish moss will serenade you. Turtles basking in the sun will wave hello. Stationary alligators will glare menacingly at you. But the greatest attractions are the rope swings you will come across. Who are the heroes who climb toward the sky and latch a knot on the tree's highest branch so that we river rats can feel brave for a moment?

What's better than a four-star beach resort with a heated pool just a stone's throw from the lapping waves and sun and sand? Why, a four-star beach resort with a heated pool just a stone's throw from the lapping waves and sun and sand... with a built-in lazy river! There are resort pools and resort pools... and then there's the Pelican Grand's pool. Located just a few steps from the beach, the Pelican Grand's pool sits languidly in the middle of a man-made oasis, complete with soft adjustable lounge chairs nestled in the shadows of swaying palm trees. The classically shaped heated pool dominates the center of the area, and its always-clean crystal blue water is a welcoming sight for those in desperate need of some serious chill time. But if you want to dip even deeper into the chill zone, there's the Pelican's lazy river snaking its way around the row of palm trees, looping toward the spa and back again toward the pool, in an infinite relaxing loop. So grab a cocktail, then grab an inner tube, and meander your way around paradise until you've taken chill mode to its fullest.

Hear us out on this one. Sailboat Bend is more than a residential neighborhood; it's an eclectic community in the historical district of classic old Fort Lauderdale. Here at the far west of Las Olas Boulevard, away from the chichi shops and art galleries, new minicondos sit next to dilapidated, vacant houses and beautifully restored historic homes. This is where you'll find craft-beer mecca Riverside Market and the more recently opened Chimney House Grill as well as artists' lofts and the 1310 Gallery. This is old Fort Lauderdale at its finest, within walking distance of Himmarshee and Riverwalk, and the people-watching is grand. We won't say it's one of those neighborhoods where everybody knows your name, but they certainly know everyone's dog's name. Packs of hipster cyclists (a nomer we don't throw around lightly) patrol the streets, looking ironically ominous with their ironically pulled-up hoodies and their ironically high ape-hanger handlebars. Art students wander from the 1310 Gallery to Riverside Market for their homebrews, and one particular neighbor has his driveway set up like a "welcome center" complete with comfortable seating; he blasts Marvin Gaye while waving enthusiastically to everyone who passes by. If anyone ever says that Fort Lauderdale is only for tourists, that it has no soul, take him down to Sailboat Bend for a bike ride — ironic or otherwise.

They flock in groups of five to six — however many they can fit in their rented Chrysler minivan — and will stand in line chirping for nearly half an hour as they wait for momma bird to serve up that medium soft serve, in a cup, double on the chocolate dip, merci. Ice creams in hand, they nest along the covered benches, a sea of snowbirds chirping and pecking at their desserts. Here the Quebec-to-Florida license plate ratio is arguably higher than anywhere else in a 15-mile radius of FLL. Keep an eye out for a unique species of snowbird, part-Jacques Cousteau, part-Peter Sellers, with a handlebar mustache, dining mostly on poutine... with extra cheese curd.

One of the best ways to spend any rainy day is with a good book and a hot drink. You'll find plenty of both and far more at Undergrounds Coffeehaus in Fort Lauderdale. Accurately self-described as an artsy coffee shop and used-book store, the 'Haus is located on Federal Highway on the second level of a small but adorably motiffed shopping plaza. The space is a bibliophile's dream, cozy in a wonderfully cluttered and colorful Victorian way; there are plenty of big-paned windows for the warm Florida rain to dribble against while you sip and peruse. Nosh on gourmet tater tots (yeah, you read that right) while lounging in comfy armchairs. Try not to get any grease on the books, though, please. Undergrounds is also a huge supporter of the local arts scene, so you'll also find "Open Haus" exhibitions of local artists. The place carries everything from rare vintage tomes to regular ol' paperbacks, and it's always taking donations. So next time the clouds start to gather, box up those old books you need to admit you will never bother to sell on Amazon and head over to Undergrounds Coffeehaus to find new old books and maybe even some future old friends.

If the DEA really wanted to catch pot smokers, it would buy an IMAX theater and host weekly screenings of Gravity. Add science, reptiles, and some mind-blowing exhibits to the mix and it's game over. You've just created a pothead paradise. But let's be very clear, people. You are to — under no circumstance — walk into the center of the Museum of Discovery and Science and light up a doobie. For heaven's sake, man, there are kids in there! No. All we are saying is that, if in November, the fine people of Florida happen to vote in favor of the legalization of medical marijuana and your chronic back/shoulder/neck/toe pain wins you a prescription for the sticky icky icky, this might be a good place to visit after proper and responsible medication. Until then, if you happen to be walking around downtown Fort Lauderdale and you trip and fall, landing mouth first into the center of a drum circle, right onto a big ol' bong, don't panic. Just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and walk over to the Museum of Discovery and Science to have that thing you call a mind blown to smithereens by the awesome power of science. We're all made of stars, man. Stars.

Dusk in South Florida is easily forgotten. Living on the East Coast, one can forget the simple pleasure of just stopping to watch the sinking sun linger in the sky until it drips into the horizon. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. The best way to watch an actual sunset is to look to the west, and the best place to do that is to hit the southbound lanes of the Sawgrass Expressway. The Sawgrass hangs right above the cusp of the Everglades, where the city lights end and Alligator Alley begins. It's elevated enough to help you take in the pink and purple hues of a darkening sky while watching the clouds melt and the speckles of stars appear one at a time. While the Sawgrass was built to get motorists to the I-75 or 595, the real genius of it is that it's the best place in South Florida to catch the twilight's gloaming colors, like a blushing slip of silk. 

After a sweltering day of sun, drinks, and salt water on Fort Lauderdale Beach, sometimes the sand in your suit isn't the only thing grinding you. If you weren't swift enough to slip off for a quick one in the water, there are few spots between A1A and Federal Highway hidden enough to shroud your postbeach coitus without appearing criminal. This garage is one of them. Pro tip: Keep the stereo down, and pull out before security pulls up.

If you look closely on Fort Lauderdale's New River, in between the yachts and beer-guzzling bros on their party boats, you'll see something rare floating down the water. It's called love. And it's salty. The Las Olas Gondola (approximately $150 per ride) operates here in the Venice of Florida, operated by a lovely captain named Martha Beachem. One time, in a single day, Martha had four proposals on her adorable little vessel. She also got four yeses, going four-for-four in a single day. If Martha were a right fielder, she'd be peeing into a cup in front of suspicious officials after that performance. With its tiny cabin stuffed with authentic Italian décor, the Las Olas Gondola can turn the sourest grape into the sweetest wine (and wine is heavily encouraged). If you want to spend the rest of your life with your lover, then tell her so. And if you want her to say yes, ask on the Las Olas Gondola. Martha is a lucky charm. Bonus: She is a licensed and bonded notary. So if you want to get hitched on the Romantic Venice, that can be arranged!

Miami Heat broadcasts are lathered in emotion for Heat fans. Especially when the hometown team loses. So what the fans need is a calm, collected, amiable face to remind everyone that, yes, losing sucks, but we have the best team in all the land, so chill. And that face belongs to SunSports' Will Manso. Taking over the spot left vacant by Jorge Sedano, Manso's first year as the pregame and postgame anchor for SunSports Heat games has been a cool transition. Manso's smart, humorous, and friendly temperament makes him likable — he's a dude who just happens to love the team you love too. In a world where anchors are all about their Ken Doll haircuts and carrying on in a fake "TV" voice, Manso comes across as the kind of guy you wouldn't mind cracking open a beer with and talking sports.

Some sports stars seem to fit seamlessly into their cities, like left hands into well-worn mitts. Derek Jeter was destined for Yankees pinstripes. George Brett was made for the muddy modesty of the Midwest. And Wade Boggs embodied Boston with his blue-collar attitude and bizarre superstitions, like eating fried chicken and mashed potatoes before every game. Under Jeffrey Loria, however, the Marlins haven't had much of an identity. Ozzie Guillen was supposed to imprint some personality, but he confounded Cubans by loving Fidel and lost everyone else by, well, losing games. Last season, when white-bread manager Mike Redmond was plopped atop a flavorless lineup, the Fish's season looked sure to be blander than your abuela's overbaked bacalao. But then, on April 7, after losing five of its first six games, the Marlins called up a young pitching prospect by the name of Jose Fernandez, and an otherwise insipid season suddenly got spicy. By now, you probably know Fernandez's story: Born into poverty in Cuba, he tried to leave three times but failed and found himself in jail. On his fourth attempt, he had to dive overboard to save his mother from drowning. But they made it, first to Mexico and eventually to Tampa. On his Major League debut, Fernandez fanned a rookie record of eight opponents. In another game, he struck out 13 — only to do one better his next time on the mound. He won a team-best 12 games with a miserly 2.19 ERA and an absolutely stingy .182 opponent's batting average. His National League Rookie of the Year award was the diamond atop another 100-loss season. But the real reason Fernandez makes Miamians proud isn't his pitching prowess. It's that the kid has character. Sometimes he's goofy — dancing behind teammates during interviews, joking with opposing players, or celebrating Giancarlo Stanton homers like he just won the lottery. Other times, he's deadly serious. In his last start of the 2013 season, Fernandez was cruising to a win over the Braves when they started talking trash. What did he do? He smacked his first-ever home run in the direction of that godawful dolphin sculpture and then told the Braves they could ride that thing back to Atlanta. Sadly for Fish fans, his 2014 campaign was cut short by Tommy John surgery. But if there's a reason to hope for the future of the franchise, it's his long-term future with the team. Fernandez fits the 305 like an old leather glove.

Whoever came up with the saying "You can't go home again" has never watched goaltender Roberto Luongo's long and winding — and award-winning — career with the Florida Panthers. Luongo's first stint with the Panthers began in 2000 and resulted in franchise records being set, Vezina Trophies being won, and shutouts galore. But then he was inexplicably traded to the Vancouver Canucks in 2006. Vancouver became instant Stanley Cup contenders while the Panthers sunk back into mediocrity. But then, on March 4, 2014, Luongo was given the Prodigal Son treatment and brought back to the Cats via a trade. Roberto, it would seem, picked up right where he left off. In his first game back, Luongo turned in a beauty of a performance, shutting out the Buffalo Sabres with 25 saves, leading the Panthers to a 2-0 victory. The Florida faithful serenaded him with "Louuuu!" chants and showered him with rubber rats. With Luongo manning the net once again, the Panthers are on their way back to mattering again. See? You can go home again. 

It's been tough to find a silver lining in the Miami Dolphins for the better part of a decade, what with all the suck that has washed over this franchise like a terrible wasting disease. Yet by some miracle, there was actually at least one player who gave the Fins faithful hope. Cornerback Brent Grimes, who had missed 15 games the previous season when he tore his Achilles playing for the Atlanta Falcons, was signed by Miami last spring with the hopes that he'd contribute a little if he could stay healthy. Not only did the 30-year-old Grimes contribute and stay healthy but he recorded 60 tackles and four interceptions and never once allowed a touchdown to an opposing receiver against him. Grimes' renaissance earned him Pro Bowl honors, and he was rated the NFL's second-best cornerback for the season by prestigious football analysis website Pro Football Focus. Grimes' kick-ass season also earned him a four-year, $32 million contract extension with the Fins. It was a season filled with despair for Miami, with a bullying scandal that brought embarrassment to the once-proud franchise and yet another year of missing out on the playoffs. New changes have swept the Dolphins this offseason, and there's always uncertainty with this team. But we at least know that opposing receivers will be on lockdown for the next four years with Grimes manning the defensive backfield.

Seven seconds. The Miami Heat was seven seconds away from losing its NBA crown and watching the San Antonio Spurs celebrate the 2013 NBA Finals championship on the Triple-A home court. Heat fans were seven seconds away from having their hearts ripped out of their chests and their souls condemned to a weary and sullen existence, pondering the cruel fate of their beloved team. The Finals, for all intents and purposes, were over. Done. Kaput. The Spurs were up 95-92 and were seven seconds away from the title. The home crowd was exiting the building, the Spurs locker room was being covered in plastic for the champagne celebration, the ministage was being readied for rollout onto the court for the trophy presentation, and yellow tape was being put out to keep nonessential personnel from walking onto the court during the Spurs coronation. And then, it happened. We looked, and there before us was a pale horse. Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the Earth to kill by sword, famine, and plague, and by the wild beasts. The rider wore a robe dipped in blood. From his mouth came a sword, taking the form of a three-point shot. And the heavens shook. Ray Allen, AKA Jesus Shuttlesworth, hit the most epic three-pointer in Miami Heat history, tying the game and forcing overtime. The game, and the series momentum, shifted in the Heat's favor, and the home team eventually won its third NBA Finals championship. But not before Ray Allen sealed his icon status in Heat lore forevermore by hitting The Shot and then yelling at the arena security people to get rid of that damned yellow tape. 

USF quarterback Steven Bench had to have known he was in trouble the minute the ball left his hands. His team was down to the Florida Atlantic University Owls 21-10 late in the fourth quarter, and he was desperate to get his team back on the board. But Bench decided to throw in the direction of FAU cornerback D'Joun Smith. Off shotgun formation, Bench took the snap, rolled out, and looked for his receiver downfield. Problem was, his receiver was blanketed by the speedy Smith, who had pretty much been feasting on interceptions from opposing quarterbacks all year long, leading the conference in INTs and passes defended. As is usually the case, Smith was his receiver's shadow, like a menacing, ghostly figure ready to devour the ball and break his opponent's back. And sure enough, as soon as Bench's pass got near the cornerback and receiver, Smith used his strength and instincts, plucked the ball out of the sky, jammed it into his side, and ran 75 yards back for the nail-in-the-coffin touchdown. Smith ran past the USF players with a fluid and effortless speed you usually see only in the NFL. Smith's accolades are only just beginning, and the American football viewing audience is starting to take notice. D'Joun Smith is going to be NFL-bound some day, where he'll be devouring passes from the likes of Tom Brady and Russell Wilson, no doubt.

There's a reason we make kids run three-legged races. It teaches them about teamwork. To win the race, one must work with the other person as a unit. The kids learn to communicate, burn a couple of calories in the process, and maybe even get a plastic trophy at the end of the day. Teamwork, my friends, can be a beautiful thing. But there's a reason adults don't partake in three-legged races: They suck. And over the years, our ligaments have morphed into microwaved rubber bands. But even adults (especially adults) need the occasional refresher course in synergy. And this is where Cycle Party comes in. Because Cycle Party is not only a master class in teamwork; it is also an excuse to get very, very drunk. In case you've never seen one rolling around Fort Lauderdale, Boynton Beach, or West Palm Beach, a Cycle Party looks like the child of a bicycle and a pub. Seating up to 15 people (though only six are required to book a party), Cycle Party has room for all the friends you actually care about. Ten people work together to pedal the giant machine from bar to bar, and by the end of the trip, you're part of a team. Or you're making out with each other. Either way, you've grown closer.

The World Cup is right around the corner — why not get off the couch this year and take in the excitement in a pub that makes you feel like you've been following the sport the past four years (you haven't, but you can pretend!). The King's Head Pub in Sunrise is the best place to take in a soccer game. Tucked into the corner of a strip mall located on University Drive, King's Head has all the looks of a dive bar from the outside, but all the comfort and excitement of a place you have been going to your entire life on the inside. Between the great specials and unique friendly staff, half the excitement and fun is just being inside the place, before you even take a sip of their draft beers. The Pub also posts the TV schedule for the bar days in advance, so no need to call to see if the game will be on there; it will — just head on over.