by Jennifer Kilbourne
I didn’t realize that I was a kayak-destination snob until this spring. I live within a kilometre of Lake Erie, so on calmer days, I enjoy exploring the local shoreline, looking at the cottages and homes that face the water. On windier days, I can be paddling in the relative shelter of the Big Pond at Point Pelee National Park within 30 minutes of putting the key in the ignition of my vehicle. If it is bass fishing season, my husband and I will paddle (and wet a line) in a sports fisherman’s paradise: Lake St Clair. I have also paddled in the mangroves on the Gulf Coast of Florida, amongst the epic beauty of Georgian Bay, on the peaceful calm of a northern Michigan lake and on the legendary Gitchigumi.
But within 10 minutes of my house is another body of water that I had never explored. Cedar Creek runs from Lake Erie inland, in a NW direction, extending about 6 miles into some terrific tomato, corn, winter wheat and soybean growing areas. It can be accessed at the mouth, and about 4 miles upstream at a Conservation Area. During the last few years of low water levels on the Great Lakes, this very wide and shallow creek has had enough mudflats showing that it frankly did not appeal to me as a place to paddle. But with the higher water levels this spring, it looked more inviting. And so I accepted its invitation.
Once on the water, the fact that I was essentially paddling within 100 feet of farm fields never entered my mind. Cedar Creek is surrounded with at least a thin strip of Carolinian forest, and more substantial woodlots in other areas. Bald Eagles, egrets and great blue herons greeted me at every turn in the creek. Turtles, ranging from snapping turtles bigger than basketballs lurking beneath the surface of the water, to little painted turtles basking in the sun on logs were everywhere along the creek. And the carp! They were rolling and splashing in the shallow water, showing off their salmon coloured bellies (and startling me every time one flopped against the bottom of my kayak). Canada geese and mallard ducks swam along the shore, some with a few youngsters in tow. But the biggest surprise was in the upper reaches of the creek. At first, I was upset that someone would be stupid enough to hack away at a tree along the creek with an axe. Then I saw another tree with fresh “hacking” marks about a foot off the ground. And another. And realized that beavers were present! Beavers in an Ontario county that is better known for its flat farm fields than its wooded areas. Wow! I did not see one, but will return for an early morning or late evening paddle, hoping to catch at least the sound of the iconic tail slap.
Hopefully I have learned my lesson to not be such a snob when it comes to kayaking destinations. Exploring your backyard can lead to some very good surprises!