Here you are, jammed into overdeveloped, thickly congested, air-polluted Miami, raging at the idiots around you and choking on the toxic fumes of urban life. There it is, the outback, where porpoises frolic in the shimmering flow and hawks soar against the glow of the cirrostratus. You can
get there from here. First pack up your camping gear, some food and beverage, your favorite bug repellent. Next drive south to Flamingo, where the park rents canoes ($40 overnight). Reserve one of the chickees or space at the other campsites (about ten dollars in season, free during late spring and summer) along the clearly marked mangrove-lined trail leading to nirvana. Then begin paddling. Hell's Bay is heavenly, like Florida before freeways, one of the last refuges for nature lovers, a place where you can awaken to a dawn bristling with color and life (devoid of those darn humans). Be aware that canoeing this route is not an endeavor of sissies: Hell's Bay is a narrow, twisting half-day paddle from Flamingo. That's what it takes to get from Miami to paradise these days.