Explorers at Cassadaga Creek
The map showed a wavy blue line for Cassadaga Creek. This could be good news, heralding an intriguing paddle down a winding canal. Or, it could be a sign of traffic jams, with trees, swept away by spring floods, huddled at every bend in the creek. Fortunately for my husband and I, Cassadaga Creek is part of the Marden E. Cobb Waterway Trail, a paddle trail maintained as a clearway by the Chautauqua County Parks Department.
On a crisp summer morning, we launch into the gently flowing canal with the trepidation of explorers heading into the unknown. We were Lewis and Clark, rowing into uncharted waters without Sacagawea or the rest of the Corps of Discovery. Of course, we didn’t have a year’s worth of supplies either, just enough for one night. And, these waters were not uncharted. A map, in a plastic bag, lay safely under a bungee cord on the deck of my kayak. Still, the tingle of anticipated adventures to come was unmistakable.
The channel was narrow and sometimes the bushes, which overhanged the banks, came to graze our shoulders. We moved easily, rounding bend after bend. Gradually, sunlight began to filter through the lush forest to warm our bodies and make the trees glow the green of a freshly picked sweet pepper. The chirps of goldfinches filled our ears as they flitted between the brush-lined banks. Combined with the gurgling of the water passing obstacles and the splash as our oars cut the surface of the water, all we heard was birdsong. We had escaped the limits of time to slide down the river in the nature of the 19th century, far from the noise and hustle and bustle of the 2000s.
Eventually the channel widened to 20 or 30 feet, but it never stopped winding. We glide more easily, propelled by a gentle current as we develop a rhythm to our paddling strokes. Softened by the rippling current and rhythmic paddling, we start as we round a bend to find deer, standing in the creek, drinking. They were even more scared than we were and jumped off the bank and into the woods.
I placed my paddle in the water behind my kayak and used it as a rudder to navigate turns. By letting the current carry my boat, I was able to relax, let go of daily stress and focus on the sights along the shoreline. I floated past blooming wild lilies, delicate tree roots exposed by erosion, and turtles sunning themselves on partially submerged logs. We passed under some highway bridges, but otherwise no signs of civilization. A muskrat or beaver poked its furry, slick brown head above the waterline and quickly ran for the safety of the creek bottom. We were invading their territory. In the split second of recognition it was hard to tell which animal was looking at us. Both are abundant along this creek.
After 5 hours and 13 miles (and plenty of breaks) we reached the boathouse along the shoreline and gratefully beached our kayaks. As explorers of old, we had earned a break for our weary bodies. Lewis & Clark didn’t have the luxury of a 3-sided shelter to provide protection from potential rain, but we do. They also didn’t have a food bag full of steaks to grill over the fire, and foil bags of vegetables and potatoes to grill over the coals. Like today’s explorers they didn’t have to struggle.
The next day we continue our journey downriver to find new discoveries at every turn. But tonight we ate heartily and savored a warm summer evening around a campfire before curling up in our sleeping bags inside the lodge to dream like adventurers.
Pick up a copy of “Take A Paddle – Western New York Quiet Water for Canoes & Kayaks” (www.footprintpress.com) and you too can become an explorer.