Paddling Seventeen Runs on the Hillsborough River

A river that never stays the same

Seventeen Runs is one of the wildest and historically most difficult sections of the Hillsborough River. Between Dead River Park and John B. Sargeant Conservation Park, the river enters a deeply shaded hardwood and cypress swamp and stops behaving like one clearly defined channel. It divides into narrow runs, side channels, sloughs and dead ends before gradually coming together again.

The name should not be taken as an exact count. There are far more than seventeen possible channels, and the route changes as trees fall, water levels rise and fall, and floating vegetation gathers against branches. Even experienced paddlers may have to stop and decide which opening carries the main flow and which one simply disappears into the woods.

May 26, 2026Our day in Seventeen Runs

16.4 milesRecorded trip distance

7 hr 2 minA full day on the river

All photographs are clickable for a larger view.

River advisory warning at Seventeen Runs — The official warning leaves little doubt: experienced paddlers only, treacherous navigation and numerous obstacles.

The warning at the entrance

For many years, Seventeen Runs was considered nearly impenetrable. Fallen trees crossed the river in every direction, forcing paddlers to climb over trunks, crawl beneath branches, drag their boats through the swamp or wade through deep, dark water. Older accounts describe dozens of portages and six hours or more to cover only a few miles.

Its remoteness adds to the challenge. Once committed to the interior of the swamp, there are no convenient roads and no easy places to leave the river.

Seventeen Runs warning sign above a kayak bow — The bow points directly toward a route with an old and well-earned reputation.

A rare window of passage

The hurricanes of 2024 brought down even more trees throughout the upper Hillsborough River corridor. During the subsequent cleanup, state crews cleared a substantial amount of fallen timber from Seventeen Runs. That work opened a route through a section that had traditionally been passable only with great difficulty.

For paddlers familiar with the river’s reputation, it created an unusual opportunity to see the heart of the swamp without fighting over or under an obstacle every few yards.

Kayaks and paddleboards gathered before the trip — Boats gathered at the edge of the river before the group headed into Seventeen Runs.

Kayaks, paddleboards and a big day ahead

This was a substantial group, with both kayakers and stand-up paddleboarders taking on the twisting route together. Before long, the boats were packed into narrow water beneath a dense green canopy—exactly the kind of place where teamwork and good judgment matter as much as paddling skill.

Group assembled on the Hillsborough River — The group gathers on the river, with kayaks and paddleboards filling the channel.

Paddlers gathered in a shaded run — Frequent pauses kept the group together as the river narrowed.

Smiling paddler during the Seventeen Runs trip — A smiling moment before the swamp demanded everyone’s attention again.

Stand-up paddleboarders entering a narrow channel — Standing high on a paddleboard offered a useful view into the next bend.

Many paddlers crowded into one of Seventeen Runs — Inside the swamp, the broad river becomes a close, intimate passage among trees and vines.

Inside the floodplain forest

The modern world seems remarkably far away here. The river narrows beneath cypress, tupelo, oak and other swamp hardwoods. Cypress knees rise from the dark water, vines hang over the channels, and sunlight reaches the river in scattered patches. Pileated woodpeckers, limpkins, herons, turtles and alligators inhabit the surrounding wetlands.

Occasional enormous cypress trees hint at the forest that existed before extensive logging removed most of the region’s largest timber.

Paddlers among tall cypress trees — Tall trunks and reflected light create the cathedral-like atmosphere of the upper Hillsborough.

Paddlers pointing ahead on the river — Which way is the river? In Seventeen Runs, that can be a serious question.

Kayakers traveling beneath a green canopy — A quiet procession through the shaded hardwood swamp.

Paddleboarders scouting the next river channel — From a standing position, paddlers scout the channel ahead.

Boats pulled alongside a wooded riverbank — Another pause along a bank with almost no dry ground beyond it.

Hand-painted sign reading abandon all hope ye who enter here — A bit of swamp humor: “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!”

Cleared does not mean predictable

This is a living floodplain forest, and the river can change after a single windy afternoon. Many trees grow in saturated soil with shallow root systems, making them vulnerable to high water, erosion and strong winds. A route that was open one week may be blocked by a newly fallen oak or cypress the next.

Water level also changes the trip. Higher water can open connections between channels and carry a stronger current, while low water can leave boats grounded among roots, logs and shallow side runs.

Paddlers approaching a large fallen tree — Even after the hurricane cleanup, Seventeen Runs still had plenty of reminders that this forest controls the route.

When the river becomes an obstacle course

This is not a conventional recreational paddle with a broad channel and an obvious destination. Sometimes we paddled with the current, sometimes squeezed between trees, and sometimes stopped to work out how to move people and boats past the next obstruction.

Paddlers negotiating a fallen log — Finding the easiest line through a fresh tangle of wood.

Kayaks stopped at a tree blockage — One person through, then the next boat—the group works together.

Paddlers climbing over a fallen tree trunk — A large trunk becomes both bridge and barrier.

Paddler crossing a log above the river — Crossing carefully while the boats wait below.

Kayakers moving boats around a fallen log — Bright boats line up as the obstruction is negotiated one at a time.

Kayak in sandy shallow water at a fallen tree — Low, tea-colored water exposes a sandy bottom beneath another blockage.

Video: working the group and boats past one of the fallen trees.

Tim Driskell smiling beside a fallen tree — Tim takes a lighthearted moment beside one of the trees that made Seventeen Runs famous.

Still wonderfully wild

Our trip came during an unusual period when cleanup following the 2024 hurricanes had made Seventeen Runs considerably more passable than it had been historically. Even so, the downed timber, twisting channels and constant possibility of new obstacles remained part of the experience.

It was still Seventeen Runs: remote, unpredictable and wonderfully wild—a place that never promises to be the same river twice.

Map and activity summary showing a 16.4-mile trip in 7 hours 2 minutes — The recorded day: 16.4 miles in 7 hours and 2 minutes.

Do not underestimate this river

The official paddling guide historically described Seventeen Runs as extremely difficult even for experienced paddlers, warning about branching channels, current, deep-water wading and frequent tree obstacles. Although cleanup improved passage, conditions can change rapidly. Anyone attempting it should obtain a very recent report and be prepared for navigation problems, portages and a much longer day than expected.

More information: Florida DEP Hillsborough River Paddling Trail Guide and Lower Hillsborough Wilderness Preserve.