Best Campgrounds in Florida

Florida wasn't my beat — I spent most of my career in Montana and a few summers seconal'd over in the North Cascades — but my sister-in-law winters down near Inverness and I've spent enough Februarys dodging the snow to have opinions. Folks call the desk asking "where do I camp in Florida?" like it's all the same place. It ain't. The panhandle is closer to Alabama in spirit, the springs country is its own kind of magic, the Keys are a whole different country, and the Everglades will eat your tent if you don't pay attention.

So this is the list I'd give a friend who called me up. Not a ranked thing. Just the campgrounds I'd actually send my own family to, and a few I'd warn them off of. Sadie can't come on most Florida trails on account of the gator situation, which is the main reason I've kept my visits short.

One general note before we get into it: Florida State Parks book up early. Like, eleven months out early for the popular ones in winter. If you wait til March to plan a March trip, you are camping in a Walmart lot. Plan accordingly. Florida State Parks handles the reservations and the windows shift now and again so check before you commit to plane tickets.

The Panhandle — Where Florida Forgets Its a Tourist State

If I had to pick one part of the state I'd actually want to spend a week in, it's the panhandle. Pine flatwoods, white sand, the water is that postcard green color and you don't have to fight a cruise ship to see it. Fort Pickens Campground at Gulf Islands National Seashore, just outside Pensacola Beach, is the one I'd send my brother to. Loops A through E, paved sites, real bathhouses, and a fort you can walk through that's older than most of the country.

Further east, St. Joseph Peninsula State Park down near Port St. Joe is the kind of place that used to be quieter — internet found it. Still good country though, and the dunes are the highest on the gulf side. Then theres Falling Waters State Park outside Chipley if you want a small inland campground with a real waterfall, which is rarer than you'd think in this state.

One I don't send people to anymore: anything with a gift shop right at the gate. You know the ones.

Springs Country and the Ocala National Forest

This is the part of Florida that surprised me first time I saw it. The springs run 72 degrees year round. In August that's cold. In January it's bath water compared to the air. Juniper Springs Recreation Area in the Ocala National Forest is a CCC-built campground from the 1930s, and they did good work back then. The run is one of the prettiest paddles in the southeast. The Forest Service site has the current status on sites and closures — Ocala has had some hurricane damage in recent seasons so don't assume every loop is open.

Blue Spring State Park near Orange City is famous for manatees in winter and you can't swim when the manatees are in, which is most of December through February. The campground is small. Book early or don't bother. Wekiwa Springs State Park up by Apopka is closer to Orlando than I'd usually tolerate but the camping loops are tucked back in the woods and you can paddle out of the day-use crowds in an hour.

Ochlockonee River State Park down near Sopchoppy in the big bend gets my vote for "spring-ish place without the crowd." White squirrels live there. I don't know why. Sadie would lose her mind.

Gulf Coast and Central Florida

For the families calling about beach-and-wildlife without driving to the Keys, I send em to a few places clustered around Sarasota and St. Pete. Myakka River State Park east of Sarasota is one of the oldest and biggest state parks in Florida — gators on the banks, a canopy walk, and three separate campgrounds so you can pick how rough you want it. Big Flats is the developed one. Old Prairie is more primitive.

Fort De Soto Park on Tierra Verde is technically a Pinellas County park, not state, and the campground is on its own little island within the island. Waterfront sites get booked nine months out. And honestly the county-run booking system used to be a headache, last I checked theyd improved it but I'm not making promises.

Highlands Hammock State Park near Sebring is a CCC park, old-growth oaks, the kind of place where the campground host has been there longer than some staff. Quiet. Good for older folks who don't want a long walk to the bathhouse.

The Keys — Worth It If You Plan a Year Ahead

I'll be straight with you. Keys camping is hard to book and not cheap. But if you can swing it, Bahia Honda State Park on Big Pine Key is the one. Buttonwood and Bayside loops, water so clear you'll think somebody photoshopped it. Hurricane Irma did a number on the place years back and they've been rebuilding piece by piece.

Long Key State Park in Layton has oceanfront tent sites that put you twenty feet from the water. Curry Hammock State Park on Little Crawl Key is the smallest of the three and the one I'd pick if I had a tent rather than an RV — the sites in the hammock are shadier and you're not staring at a Class A all weekend.

Reservations in the Keys open up exactly eleven months out at 8am eastern, last I knew. Set an alarm. Have a backup. Have a backup to the backup.

Everglades and the Wild Stuff

Flamingo Campground at the south end of Everglades National Park got rebuilt after Irma and it's a real operation now, with eco-tents and the whole bit. I'm of two minds. The fancier it gets the more I miss the old version, but I won't lie, the bathhouse upgrades were overdue. NPS.gov has the current campground status and any closures from the dry-season burn schedule.

Long Pine Key Campground nearby is the more rustic option in the Glades. Pine flatwoods, dark skies, mosquitos that will pick you up and carry you off in summer. Don't camp in the Everglades in July unless you owe somebody money.

For something further off the road, Cayo Costa State Park is boat-in only — you ferry over from Pine Island or Boca Grande and there's no store, no electric, no nothing. Just the island. Pack like you mean it and bring more water than you think.

Quick Picks and Common Mistakes

Here's the short version, the campgrounds I'd point people at depending on what they're after:

• Best for a first-timer to Florida: Fort De Soto Park, Tierra Verde — easy, clean, beach access
• Best for paddlers: Juniper Springs, Ocala National Forest — that run is something else
• Best for tent campers who hate RVs: Long Key State Park, Layton — oceanfront tent loop
• Best for old-growth and quiet: Highlands Hammock State Park, Sebring
• Best for wildlife: Myakka River State Park, Sarasota — gators, birds, the works
• Best for "I want to feel remote": Cayo Costa State Park, boat-in from Pine Island
• Best for a winter manatee trip: Blue Spring State Park, Orange City
• Best for the panhandle: Fort Pickens, Pensacola Beach

The mistakes I see folks make, year after year: showing up in summer (heat index of 105 and afternoon thunderstorms every day), not booking far enough out, bringing a screen room that won't stand up to the wind off the gulf, and forgetting that Florida camping requires more shade strategy than rain strategy. A good tarp setup matters more than a four-season tent down there. If you're tent shopping for Florida specifically, look at something with mesh-heavy walls — our tent picks page has a few that handle the heat better than the typical mountain tent.

Gear Notes for Florida Specifically

Couple things that are different from the mountain west, since this is where Florida trips go sideways for out-of-staters. Your sleeping bag down there is more of a sleeping sheet most of the year. A 40-degree quilt is fine for January in central Florida, and overkill for August anywhere. Bring a sheet, honestly. I've slept under a beach towel at Bahia Honda in March and been fine.

Your stove won't care about the altitude but it will care about the wind off the water. Bring a windscreen. And canister fuel can get hard to find in the Keys — stock up on the mainland. Bear stuff doesn't really apply (no bears worth speaking of where most folks camp, though black bears are around Ocala and the panhandle so don't leave food out, common sense). Raccoons in Florida are the real problem. They've gotten through coolers I would've sworn were animal-proof.

For trip planning, Recreation.gov handles the federal sites and our parks index has the broader rundown. If you're planning to mix in some day hiking, the trail database is where I'd start, though I'll admit Florida trails are more about scenery than mileage.

Honest Take

If I had one week in Florida and somebody else was paying, I'd split it: three nights at Fort Pickens for the panhandle beaches, then drive down and do three nights at Juniper Springs in the Ocala forest. Skip the Keys unless you booked ten months ago. Skip Orlando entirely. Florida is best in February and March, miserable June through September, and the rest is a gamble. Bring twice the bug spray you think you need and don't argue with the rangers about the gator distance rules, they wrote them because somebody got bit.