Kayaking through the bay

As far as I know, there are two types of kayaking. There’s the extreme, paddle over 100-foot waterfalls, slip and slide through class four and five rapids version, or there’s the calm, head out on glassy water and enjoy the scenery type.
One of these is more my style than the other. And luckily, it’s available right here in our back yard.
About noon last Wednesday, I called Steve Gibons at Scappoose Bay Kayaking. He had me set up to go on a two-hour wetland tour starting at 1 p.m.
How’s that for efficient? It makes sense, as I’m just one in a line of 48,000 who have been in one of their kayaks in the 10 years they’ve been in business.
I pulled into the parking lot, doused myself in spray-on sunscreen and went inside. Once the rest of the crew showed up – six people spanning three generations of family, including 83-year-old grandma and 84-year-old grandpa – our guide Dave Anderson gave us a brief paddling lesson.
Arms so far apart, be able to read the paddle, put as much of the blade in the water as possible. Done deal.
Onto the docks, into the 12-feet, 7-inch long, 28-inch wide Emotion Advant-Edge recreational kayak.
The wide bottom meant it wasn’t very tippy. That was good. But it also made me realize I should’ve brought an actual camera instead of the disposable one I brought in case I went for a swim.
As we paddled away from the docks, Dave pointed to a bald eagle resting on a piece of wood fewer than 100 yards in front of us.
“Let’s head out there. Paddle to the right of him, not straight at him,” he said. We moved in, stealthily. But we weren’t enough like ninjas, and it spooked and flew off.
As it turned out, not a big deal. We’d see two more on the trip.
(Steve says there are six resident eagles close to the marina).
With the eagle out of the equation, we moved back onto our route, around the houseboats behind the marina, past the shipwrecked boat and toward the origins of Scappoose Creek.
The other folks – with paddling experience, I might add – mostly went in a straight line. I went left, then right, then left, then right into their boats. No one sank, no boats were damaged.
I zig-zagged some more, right past the giant geese with little goslings and toward the cows grazing near the river.
The steady sounds of the water dripping from the paddle back into the bay made soaking up the sun’s rays all the more relaxing.
Soon enough we were at a fork. We went left, into an area Grandpa said reminded him of his trip to the Amazon a year or two ago. Tall green grass grew shore side and lush trees created a corridor leading us into a single-file line on our way up Scappoose Creek.
Smaller birds chirped across the creek, which was lined with beaver trails working their way back into the trees.
Once we turned around, we were greeted with an osprey plunging 40 feet straight down into the bay looking for an afternoon snack. It came up empty-beaked.
The closer we got to the marina, the more Great Blue Heron we saw. By now, I had learned how to take my boat in a straight line.
By the time the two hours were up, we’d gone about two-and-a-half miles, spotted dozens and dozens of birds and only tapped into the vast wetlands surrounding Scappoose Bay.
Next time I’ll have to check out the wildlife in Cunningham Slough. Or try the monthly moonlight tour. Or get a kayak and go out on my own. The options are endless.
And the fun is for the whole family. The couple in their 80s were out of their boats at the end of the tour not looking any more tired than they had been two hours earlier.
Call Steve, his wife Bonnie or any of the other great staff at Scappoose Bay Kayaking to organize your trip.