Most golf courses begin with a design. This one began with untouched land.
When Bradenton-based entrepreneur and developer Steve Herrig first acquired the 1,100-acre property along the Myakka River in Myakka City, the vision was simple. Preserve it. Ride ATVs. Explore it on horseback. Leave much of it as it was.
But through conversations with golf course designers at Fry/Straka Global Golf Course Design, a different possibility began to emerge. Instead of reshaping the land against nature, portions of the existing pastureland could be carefully transformed while significantly expanding native habitat, restoring wetlands, improving water management, and permanently preserving large sections of the property for conservation.
A property once under plans to become a housing development evolved into an exercise in ecological stewardship. What followed was not simply the construction of an 18-hole golf course. It became an environmental restoration effort on a massive scale.
Today, Miakka Golf Club is being designed in collaboration with Paul Azinger and Fry/Straka, with an anticipated opening in 2026. Yet the larger story may be the land itself.
Working alongside Fry/Straka, Herrig pursued a vision that went beyond golf. This is not an effort to make the land merely appear natural, but to restore it as a functioning ecosystem.
The objective was not to impose a landscape onto the property, but to work within the environmental character already present. The goal was not just to shape fairways and greens, but to reestablish the ecological identity of the Myakka region. Ridgelines, uplands, sand scrubs, and wetlands are each being restored with intention, not approximation.
What makes this effort different is not just the scale. It is the discipline behind it.
Before a single hole was shaped, native trees and plant systems were harvested and preserved. Oaks, pines, palmettos, bay trees, and wax myrtle were carefully relocated and maintained in nurseries, while thousands of additional native trees were brought onto the property to further restore the landscape and expand habitat density.
Native grasses such as broomsedge, bluestem, and wiregrass were lifted from the land and reintroduced after construction. Wetlands were not simply designed. They were rebuilt using indigenous aquatic species sourced through regional partnerships.
This is not landscaping. It is ecological continuity. And the numbers begin to tell the story.
More than 120,000 broomsedge plants have already been installed. Another 80,000 bluestem grasses now reestablish the native ground layer. Over 45,000 canna lilies and tens of thousands of aquatic plants are restoring wetland systems designed to function, not just appear. Thousands of trees, including mature oaks more than 60 years old, have been repositioned to define both the landscape and the playing experience.
Even more striking is what remains.
With roughly 30 percent of the project still to be restored, tens of thousands of additional native plants will be introduced in the months ahead.
But scale alone is not the point.
The project also exists within a broader conversation about land use along the Myakka River. Concerns from nearby residents reflect a long-standing awareness of how development can impact water quality and natural systems across Florida.
What distinguishes this effort is not the absence of impact, but how it has been addressed.
At the time of the property’s acquisition, early soil testing revealed legacy agricultural contamination, including arsenic-based compounds once common in Florida farming. Rather than avoid it, the ownership group moved to remediate conditions that had existed long before construction began.
Today, more than 90 percent of surface water is captured, filtered, and reused through a network of engineered retention systems. Compared to pre-development conditions, water now moves more slowly, is treated more thoroughly, and reenters the environment with significantly reduced impact.
The alternative for this land was not preservation in its current form, but residential development. In that context, the project represents a different path, one that prioritizes open space, wildlife habitat, ecological restoration, and long-term stewardship.
That commitment extends beyond the course itself. Nearly 500 acres along the Myakka River have been set aside for conservation, forming two distinct preserves that will remain in their natural state. These protected areas, including the Wooded Trail Preserve and the North Woods Preserve, are designed to safeguard native habitat, support wildlife corridors, and protect water quality within the river basin. No residential or commercial development is planned within these lands, reinforcing a long-term commitment to environmental balance and responsible land use.
What is emerging is a living ecosystem designed to sustain itself while protecting the Myakka River. Across more than 50 acres, over 400 pounds of Florida-native wildflower seed, representing up to 30 species, have already been distributed to support pollinators like bees and butterflies. This is not aesthetic detail. It is ecological infrastructure. It ensures that what is being built here continues to evolve, season after season.
The same thinking extends to long-term forestry. Through coordination with the Florida Division of Forestry, 5,000 seedling pines will be introduced to further reinforce the landscape’s natural density and resilience.
What ultimately defines this project is not the precision of its golf greens or the strategy of its course design, though both will be exceptional. It is the commitment to something larger.
For decades, development projects have often reshaped land in ways that separate use from environment. What is happening here suggests something very different. One where design works with ecology, not against it. Where restoration is not a requirement to satisfy, but a principle to follow.
This is not a golf course placed onto the land. It is a landscape rebuilt with purpose.
And in time, it may become a reminder that development and preservation do not have to exist in opposition, if the work is done with intention.
