Kayaking The Crooked River

Looking for a fun outdoor activity to do with our visiting granddaughter, we decided to revisit a place from our youth leader days. About thirty-five years ago (or so) we would take the teens from our church for a weekend canoe trip at Camp Hi in Hiram, Ohio. It was not a fancy place to say the least back then--outhouses and basic canoe equipment. The first time we did the overnight trip was when I learned what "primitive camping" was. I thought it meant the facility had an outhouse. That sounded primitive to me. Not so. We ended up hanging up a blanket for the girls to have some privacy. We had one teen who never came again even though we found a better camping spot in the following years.

Well, Camp Hi had changed but not a lot. The grounds had a lot more picnic tables and the outhouse was a lot nicer. Is there such a thing as a modern outhouse? And along with a lot more canoes there was also the option of kayaks.

We arrived shortly before ten in the morning. Bob had reserved three kayaks but once there, our granddaughter decided she didn't want to have her own kayak so she and I chose a two-man (or rather woman) kayak. We picked up life jackets and paddles and found the last three seats in the van for the ride up the river to the drop off point.

One canoe and several kayaks went into the river before us. We were the last in and let everyone get a good head start. It was like having the river to ourselves. The Cuyahoga wasn't running too fast since we hadn't had a lot of rain in the last few weeks. There were a few places where the current picked up and I got to rest a bit. Our granddaughter rested between a couple strokes here and there which got more frequent as she got hungrier and wanted to get to our picnic lunch.

A seven mile trip that took us three hours fifteen minutes revealed lots of water lilies and other marsh flowers as well as a huge blue heron, several turtles and a glimpse of a river otter. While it promised to be a hot and humid day, there were large sections of shade and a nice breeze blowing most of the time. It was relaxing and peaceful and something we will always remember sharing with our granddaughter.

Kayaking in Key Largo Bay

One of the things we like to do when we escape the winter up north and come south to Key Largo is to kayak. Last year was the first year we attempted the feat and let me tell you, the first try at getting in was not pretty. We were so glad there was no one around to see us. We both ended up in the water. But since then, we've learned balance and poise--well balance anyway.

This year it was a little too chilly to get out on the water the first week we were here. We made it out several times the second week and started checking out all the spots we'd paddled to last year. North of our complex is an arm of land that extends into Key Largo Bay or Bayside or Florida Bay. We've heard lots of different names for it. Just a little ways out there is a canal that runs along the arm and is a nice quiet place to paddle around in. The mouth of the canal is also the place where the local manatees are often spotted munching on the turtle grass below.

Our first foray out, we headed for the canal and as we paddled through the entrance, we watched for the large lizard we'd spotted last year sunning on one of the rocks. No lizard. No manatee. But we enjoyed paddling up and around--until we spotted the alligator.

On a large flat rock or piece of cement near the water's edge sat an alligator in the sun. He really didn't look to be laying on the rock like most we've seen when they sunbathe. He was a bit on his haunches and had his mouth wide open. He never flinched so we paddled a bit closer. He was as still as a statue. So much so that we laughed thinking perhaps the home owners had placed it there to ward trespassers.

We paddled home and thought little more of it until our second trip into the canal. This time we were armed with a waterproof camera to catch the statue of the alligator. Both of us just gaped at the spot where we'd seen it. There was no statue and surveying the spot where it had sat, we could see no way for anyone to get to the spot to place one there.

I laughed nervously and said, "Well, maybe they only put it out when they are home so no one will steal it."

"Sure, honey," came the response.

Not a good picture but the iguana is in the circle I drew.

"Well at least we're in a kayak and not on a paddle board like those people." Ahead of us were a group of paddle boarders who had turned around and were headed out again. We never got close enough to warn them. But warn them of what? A real alligator or a statue that disappears?

On our way out through what now seemed to be a very narrow entrance to the canal, I heard a rustling in the mangroves that line the channel. From the sound of it, I knew it was bigger than the little annoying lizards that scurry around down here. I looked up just in time to see a three foot iguana jump up into a tree. I don't want to think about what he may have been trying to get away from.