Outdoors
Owls, birds, gators and teenagers, oh my
Each week this summer, Times staff writer Emily Nipps will attempt an off-beat sport or activity.
By EMILY NIPPS, Times Staff Writer
© St. Petersburg Times
published July 22, 2003
Don't go by yourself, a friend warned me. You'll be bored out of your mind.
Early Friday afternoon, when everyone else was cooped up in their offices, I didn't have much of a choice. I called the folks at Canoe Escapes On The Hillsborough River to see what they thought about going solo.
"It depends. Are you the loner type?" asked coordinator Chase McCrory. I decided I was and reserved my kayak.
At Canoe Escapes, which is across the street from Big Top Flea Market on Fowler Avenue, I hopped on a little yellow school bus with water and sunscreen in tow.
McCrory dropped me off at Sargeant Park, gave me a 30-second course on how to paddle and shoved my boat into the water. I chose to keep my life jacket in the kayak rather than on me. I can swim, and it's not like I was going to be crashing through any tidal waves or waterfalls on the Hillsborough River.
The water was as still and smooth as glass.
There's nothing too scientific about kayaking, at least not at a recreational pace. It's just a matter of pushing through the water in a figure-eight motion with a double-sided oar. To turn, you just paddle a little bit more on one side. It's pretty easy.
I followed the little map I was given, which had a phone number in case I got lost. (I had my cell phone handy.) The first leg led upstream to see the most wildlife-heavy spot, Flint Creek.
The first wildlife I saw was some teenagers with orange- and red-hued hair fishing on a pier. They were polite enough and tried to spook me with alligator stories as I floated past, claiming a game warden caught a 12-footer just the other day.
"If you don't see me come back this way," I said over my shoulder, "call the police."
About halfway into Flint Creek, which was like a little cul-de-sac off of the river, I saw the first alligator. Then another. I started to mistake floating branches for alligators then learned to tell the difference. The gators' backs looked like dark, shiny zippers floating above the water, and their snouts and eyes poked out slightly.
I froze at the first few encounters, careful not to pester them as I drifted by. But once I got used to them, they seemed as disinterested and benign as lily pads. By the third or fourth gator, I was happily splashing past with mere inches between us.
I turned around to head back to the main trail, which was all downstream. I rowed past the teenagers again, who asked if I had any cigarettes. (I didn't.) And things really started to pick up.
The ride was pretty effortless with the stream nudging me ahead, though there were a few times I couldn't turn or slow down and ended up knocking into thickets and tree trunks with a hollow, plastic thud.
There were only a few birds that came close enough for me to inspect, but they were so uncommon and beautiful, it seemed odd they would be hanging out in a public park.
An owl flocked from tree to tree to keep its distance while the heron seemed totally bored by my bright orange boat crashing around.
One of the most fascinating aspects of the river, though, was the spiderwebs. They were enormous and elaborate. Sparkly strands were so thick, I mistook them for electrical wires at first glance.
As cozy as I was getting with the alligators (I saw about seven or eight.), I almost made a horrible mistake that might have changed the outcome of my experience.
About 90 minutes into the two-hour trip, I started staring into the distance and didn't see how close I came to skidding my kayak right across a gator's head. He was hanging out in a patch of moss, floating unusually high on the water. Some last-minute frantic steering saved me from knocking him right in the face. Somehow, I don't believe we would have been laughing that one off.
At the end of the trip, McCrory was waiting at Morris Bridge Park with his yellow bus.
"You're early!" he yelled out to me as I veered toward the boat ramp.
My friend was right. It might have been more fun to have someone to talk to during the two-hour stretch. But that's not to say it wasn't a charming and peaceful ride going solo.
It was my first time viewing such a pure and concentrated show of Florida's native treasures: alligators, the barred owls, the great egret, tricolored heron and bored teenagers.
CANOE AND KAYAK TOURS
WHERE: Canoe Escapes, 9335 E Fowler Ave, Tampa.
DAYS/HOURS: Weekdays 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., weekends 8 a.m. to 6 p.m.; alternate hours can be arranged for special groups.
RATES: For tandem canoe or kayak, $18-22 per paddler, depending on the length of the trip. For solo kayak or canoe, $30-38.
FOR INFORMATION: 813 986- 2067; www.canoeescape com. For other Florida paddle tours, go to www.paddleflausa.com
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