A big red Ford F250 roars into a little parking lot of a small bank with darker blue painted brick walls.  With excitement, we all jump out.  While a white mini van pulls up into the parking spot next to us.  My Mom, Dad, Sister (Kylie), some of our family friends; Dean, Kyle, Rachelle, Steve, and I were all there...

As we united, we all burst across the road to the cabin running.
I’ve only canoed, I’ve never kayaked!  I can’t wait to start I thought to myself.
We walked into this small Brown log cabin lined with big rafts, mini tubes, kayaks and canoes, plus minibuses of colors with faded pink, green, and blue.  We stepped in.
“Look at all those licence plates!”  I said to my Dad as I looked at the wall of licence plates all around us.
“Yea, I like this green one.” 
He pointed to a faded green and rusted licence plate with the numbers 55 on it: It’s his racecar number.  The walls were papered in old licence plates, most of them had a yellow sunset in the background of them or were a rusted green.  There was two dimly lit lights lighting up the room, the rest was the sunshine through the two open doors and a window behind the cash registers that led into the little gift shop.  Only about three people were in line, and two people working behind the cash register on the right side of the cabin once you walked into the squeaky door.  Next, two more people and a group came in after us and waited at the door because the cabin was filled up with people by the door.  We only had to wait about eight minutes - and sign a waver.       Following the man at the cash register, we walked around the outside back of the log cabin by the river.  He showed the adults the map right to the left of the pile of kayaks and rafts, were to go to to reach the end.
Each of us picked a kayak that fit us and the man grabbed us the paddle that fit the kayak, then of course, a life jacket.  I got a red long, and wide, open at the knees kayak, with a yellow and black paddle, and the orange life jacket.  All of us set our kayaks into the shallow, pebbled water one at a time.  My Dad and Steve went in last because they held the kayaks down so we wouldn’t tip over right away while trying to hop in.  Then, we were off.
There was a short, brown-ish black-ish bridge that was old and not in use, plus, didn’t go across the whole river.  Dean and Kyle decided that they would follow my Dad who took the lead in paddling, under the bridge.  Everybody else paddled around and still learning about the paddle patterns and how to turn certain ways as we went.  We were now surrounded by a thick woods of pines and colorful trees.  A lonely, nice, beautiful, and well-built, short, fishing dock (Like what would be in your backyard if you had a lake in your yard.) was sitting over the water.  And Dean thought he could go under the dock like he did the high bridge.  He ducked low enough to just mis it.  Kyle tried next.  Kyle accidentally got turned by the water and got stuck in between the legs of the short dock.  Steve: his Dad, paddled back to him and freed him, and Kyle then hit his head as he slipped out from underneath the dock.  We laughed about that for the next four minutes.
We paddled along through the twists and turns of the river, and it eventually got deeper, so you couldn’t hear the scratching of some of the higher pebbles hitting the bottom of your kayak and didn’t jab the bottom of the river with your paddle.  I started to fall behind with the Moms of our two families and they were having their own conversation and taking pictures along the way, like always.  They never have their big, and heavy black cameras out of their sight!  So I started to paddle forward faster catching up with the boys and Dads in the front, passing my sister, Kylie, on the way.  She then sped up, but not yet strong or fast enough to pass me.
After a while of paddling through the fallen trees, and passing the occasional older house, and older couple sitting outside with their grandchildren playing, or other tubers floating down the river... about an hour, we got to the Lake.  It was a small lake, but sitting so low to the water, you see the lake much bigger than it actually is.  There was an outline of pine trees everywhere around the lake, but at the left side was two bigger brown houses with docks and a little paddle boat.
This lake is probably a bit to small and dangerous to have a real/big boat on.  I thought.  We were on a sandbar that was right in the middle of the opening of the river we were just on.  So we scanned were everything was, and made a plan.
“Let’s cut through around this right side, then go around the side with the docks over there,” He pointed at the big brown houses as he finished his sentence, “and basically paddle all around the lake, then come around and go through that lake where everybody is going,” He then pointed to the right side of the lake, were a bigger river opened up to the kayakers and rafters going through, “that's probably our way to the end.”  My Dad Spoke with pride and excitement as we all agreed.  Next, we pushed off the sandbar and paddled across the lake to the other side all in different places of the lake.  Once we all caught up at the other side, we raced to the docks and we curved around and shot off towards the second river all at different paces.
My arms are getting so sore!  But I’ve got to keep going, then I can rest for a moment.  I told myself as I pounded my paddle through the water watching some fish jump out of the water just ahead of my kayak.  I can hear the frogs croak as I creeped closer to the second river that is surrounded by a thin woods, and the fish still hoping once and awhile.  I slowed down as I approached the few people at the second river spot, and waited there for a few minutes.
Finally!  My arms get a break!  Who would've thought that this paddle would be so heavy?  I asked myself as I sat the paddle across my lap and relaxed my finger tips in the cool water that I could just reach.  A group of ducks just flew ahead.  As my Mom got closer, she started to take more pictures of us in the kayaks as the rest of us were starting to leave down the river with her traveling behind with Rachel and Kyle falling behind talking about the view.  We approached more tubers drifting down the lazy river, passing them.
“Hey Dad!  Look they’ve got a cooler of food in a tube with them attached to a rope!”  I called to my Dad who was to my left.
“Yep, it takes longer to drift and pull yourself the right way, they might also be taking the long route, their going to get hungry!” He said over the rushing waters as we passed another fallen tree and turned the next right corner.  After a long ways of paddling and passing canoes and rafts, we passed more houses up on top of the larger hills and woods, more docks, too.
“Hey Dave?” My Mom shouted from behind.
“Yes.” He called back turning around.
“Can we stop?”  Kyle, Kylie, Dean, and I, were cued to slow down from my Dad’s extremely loud whistle.  So we turned around and started going against the small current.
“Well, the man said that there should be little patches of sand like a ramp to get off.  And it looks like a campsite there.”  My Dad pointed to the right side of the river.
“No, anyplace else?”
“Fine, um, what about there, it’s an empty spot?”
“Okay.”  My Mom said with a hint of disappointment.  We stopped on the sand and waited for a moment.  Most of us got out and stretched our legs a bit, but Steve didn’t, he didn’t want to get wet; you’d think he’s a cat, he hates water!  As she came back, we all got ready and took off.  Shortly after, we got to a big bridge that towered over the river.  I heard the whistle cue to stop, I was in the lead.
“Whoa!  A Beaver!”  Some kid yelled in a kayak next to me.  I just saw the Beaver dive.  I immediately told the rest of the family as they came closer and the other kids left.
After many twists and turns, and a few times getting stuck in the sand again, plus the passing of more tubers and rafters, then being passed by some kayakers and canoers, it was getting lighter, the trees were pulling back, and it was more open.  Then there was some few piles of tubers and others to our lefts.
“That's our stop!”  My Dad shouted, as I bumped into Kylie’s Kayak.
“What’s out there if we kept going?”  I hesitated, wondering why there was an open area just up ahead us.
“That would be Lake Michigan.  We are supposed to stop here.  That’s what we payed for.”  My Dad said enthusiastically.
“You mean we could pay to go into Lake Michigan with these kayaks?”  I wondered.
“Yes, but that’s way more expensive.  Here we go, let's get out now.”  My Mom  chipped in.
“Okay.” I ended as we all got up into the sand ramp and jumped out.
I feel strange!  We sat for so long, and on water!  Telling myself as I felt like I was swaying.  Three men came and started to load up the kayaks and others rafts and canoes all in separate trailers that looked like giant red cages hooked up to the mini bus that were up front of the cabin.  We were told to get onto the little faded blue-ish one.  All of us ran to different seats, I sat more towards the front as Dean ran for the back, the same as Kylie and Kyle ran for just in front of them.  The parents all sat in the middle, and some other random people were just in the seat next to me, otherwise, we had the whole bus to ourselves.  We jerked forwards and started on the bumpy road next to the highway and a line of trees, mostly pine and colors.
Nobody really talked, but maybe Dean, Kylie and Kyle might be talking, or parents.  So I was looking out the window and thought:
We HAVE to do this again!  I loved going through this path!  BANG!  The bus was rattling.  Is this bus safe?  I was thinking.  Then I started to think about that beaver again, and the jumping fish and croaking frogs, and the flying ducks.  And I realized, my new appreciation for nature, was even greater than when I started.