It's been a while since I've given you guys some new kayaking info. Here's the low down on the Chassahowitzka River, located about three hours west of the Daytona Beach area. The variety of wildlife makes it worth every mile.  

I've seen them at the zoo plenty of times, but this was a wild animal I'd been chasing after ever since I started kayaking two years ago. Often times, people I went boating with would spot one and point in a direction, only for it never to reappear again (they can hold their breath for up to eight minutes).

So when I saw it's little head poking out of the water the moment I walked up to the boat dock, I knew this was going to be a special trip.

Many people who've kayaked the Chas note it's abundant wildlife. I got to see a lot of it first hand when I ventured into this nearly pristine and scenic river on April 23 through April 26th.

The Chassahowitzka--don't be afraid, it's pronounced Chassa-wits-kuh-- is located in Citrus County, near Crystal River. (If that doesn't help, its about an hour north of Tampa).

At first glimpse, it seems like an average river, until you realize the clarity and potential that  comes with taking an unknown turn. Some times it can feel a little too busy with boaters, but pretending to be a pioneering explorer earns you the view of clandestine springs and some quiet time.

Kayakers and canoeists should be prepared for the usual alligator or three and wading birds, such as the Great Blue Heron. The coolest fauna, in my opinion, are the friendly West Indian manatees that swim right up to your boat and river dolphins. It's a surprising mix to see them in the same river, which is spring fed and winds for 9 miles into the Gulf of Mexico.

Linzy Brown, a friend who has kayaked the Chas several times, had a wild manatee encounter during her first time on a yak. A manatee swam under her, wrapped its flippers around her boat and essentially started "humping it" for a few minutes--nearly knocking Linzy out of the boat. Beware of curious (or seemingly sexual) manatees!

For folks who've got some time to spare, you can take a couple of day trips on the Chas. Spring-wise, I visited at least four mostly clear swimming holes within about a five mile radius.

Several of my friends scattered throughout the state reunited at the Chassahowitzka River Campground, a 40-acre property that's within walking distance of the Chassahowitzka National Wildlife Refuge that hugs the river. It's nestled real close to development (there's a Publix conveniently located less than a mile from here),

On the upside, there's an air-conditioned bathroom (WOW!) and its a pretty quiet campground. Hell, we were probably the loudest people there. Most folks go to bed around 11 p.m.

Unlike the private spring parks near High Springs in Alachua County, you don't have to pay big fees to pay to get in the park that leads up to them. The catch is, you're going to need some kind of boat-- be it canoe, kayak or skiff or motorboat.

The first spring you'll encounter is literally in the dock area. You can't swim here because of the boat traffic, but if you head east for a few hundred yards, past the rebel flag and the dudes drinking from beer cans, you'll come across a few spring vents in a beautiful shallow cove. Some of the holes connect, so if you have goggles or snorkeling gear, you can attempt to swim through them.

When my boyfriend, Tim Pratt, went to the Chas last year, the dolphins swam right up to his yak to check him out. We didn't see any this time around, but I suspect that they were there when I spotted some thrashing in the water.

My favorite place to visit was "The Crack." When launching from the Citrus County dock, go left, past a cove, and make a left at the next channel. You'll go through a narrow waterway (where you'll see a little palm tree island) surrounded by tall grasses for a half mile or so.

The water will become clearer and shallower, so once you can no longer paddle, take a walk up the creek to discover The Crack, a spring that gurgles up through a what appears to be a crack, that some say has considerably filled in by sediment over the years.

Sit on a log to enjoy the scenery.

 Or better yet, take a chance on the rope swing (see video below).

Happy paddling!

And for more information on good paddling trails, see this handy Web site, http://www.clubkayak.com/cfkt/trips/chassahowitzka_river.html .

Let me preface this story by saying that paddling a kayak, taking notes, and snapping photos roughly all at the same time, is a bad idea.

Given that the sun was setting quickly and this is supposed to be a story about kayaking under a full moon--and well, you really can't take a picture of the moon from a moving kayak--I had limited time to document the experience.

But just so you know, your correspondent-of-fun attempted to do it all and nearly capsized while heading straight into a bunch of mangroves. (The things I do for you people!)

The sun was almost at its magic hour, beginning to sketch its light orange rays in the sky, when our group launched kayaks from the Marine Discovery Center. The organization, a non - profit based in New Smyrna Beach, is dedicated to environmental education and provides lots of "hands-on, feet wet" activities like the monthly full moon journey and other cool adult field trips.

Our diverse crew included a young couple visiting from Buffalo, N.Y., center volunteers and staff, and one of the most interesting kayakers I've ever met, Snookie DeMarce. We were all of various experience levels, but Snookie is especially notable for her trip a few years ago, when she went down the Indian River alone for about a month, camping on spoil islands.

She's got neat gear like her special life jacket. Rather than wear a bulky PFD like mine, she uses an inflatable jacket that's tucked into what looks like a fanny pack.

"It's great for kayaking topless!" Snookie said, making me wonder just how serious she is. Of course, it's probably a little chilly for that during the fall.

During our excursion in the Indian River Lagoon, one of our first points of interest is a sea bird rookery near the city marina. Several bird species call this mangrove island home. And it STINKS.

Unfortunately, being the resourceful journalist that I thought I could be, I was trying to snap photos and take notes on the types of the birds, when I nearly crashed into the island. Bird poop dripping everywhere. Very bad.

Upon straightening myself out, I paddled closer to Coralie Gilson, who is a master naturalist with the Marine Discovery Center. "As the sun sets, we'll start getting birds coming in from every direction," she said.

Juvenile pelicans and snowy egrets soared by as it began to get colder and darker. Between   most every mangrove branch there was some type of bird beginning to rest f  or  the night, such as white ibis, great egrets, black crown night herons, cormorants, little blue herons and tri-colored herons.

One of the islands we passed, though, was quiet, which Coralie said happens sometimes for various reasons, such as when fish move out of the area, changes in vegetation, or possibly the fact that the nearby marina expanded closely to the island.

We paddled through the marina, which really wasn't all that scenic considering it was just a bunch of white boats, and into an area that was more secluded from development.

Reaching the backwaters of the river, we searched the sky for what we were all waiting for.

"There it is!" somebody yelled.

Hanging low in the sky and just beyond the palm trees was our massive moon, still a creamy white against a pale blue expanse. We all howled in unison.

The sky finally darkened about an hour into our journey, requiring us to flick the flashlights on to make boaters aware of us.

That phrase, "it's like night and day" definitely applies to a kayak tour like this for obvious reasons, but also because it's just such a completely different experience.

It's quiet and eerie and peaceful as you break the silvery-blue water with your paddle.

Conversations disappear in the serenity of the night as we paddled away from the streetlights and condominiums.

With my pen lost somewhere in my boat, my notebook all wet and my camera useless in the dark, it was finally just me and the moon, rising higher and shining stronger. 

Wanna go kayaking under the moon? Your next chance is Thursday, Nov. 13. Kayaks launch from the Marine Discovery Center, 162 N. Causeway, at 5 p.m. Call 386-428-4828 to make a reservation.

IF YOU GO:

The two-hour tour is guided by staff that is trained in rescue, first aid and CPR. If you have your own yak, the tour costs $20 per person. If you don't, it's $30 with the kayak rental, which includes a PFD, emergency whistle and flashlights (headlamp included).

Besides needing a boat, you might want to bring a sweater or jacket, bottled water, some water shoes, and flashlights.