Emerging from under a bridge in Knightstown, I feel content.

I've just done something I've never done before. I took a risk. I embraced nature, life and Henry County. And despite one minor incident, I came out alive and with a smile on my face. On Tuesday, I had the opportunity to kayak five miles of the Big Blue River with Jeff Ray, president of Friends of the Big Blue River. Jeff, being one of the best supporters of keeping the river clean, had asked me weeks earlier if I would be interested in kayaking the river. Although my experience kayaking was limited, I agreed. At about 9 a.m. Tuesday, I met Jeff at his house, where he set me up with a life vest, which I came dangerously close to needing later.

On our trip to our starting point, I asked Jeff about how rough the river was and how that would affect my weak kayaking skills. Jeff responded with something to the effect of: "It just depends how well you can dance." That must have been a kayak joke. Anyway, we soon dropped our vessels in the water and set out on our five-mile journey from where the river crosses County Road 60 to where it meets U.S. 40. The temperature outside was in the high 60s, and the river was somewhat deep from recent rainfalls. As we started, I realized how little I really knew about kayaking. It took about two miles for me to avoid spinning my kayak in circles. If you can keep your paddle straight, kayaking is like a math equation. You add a little force on this side and then a little more on the aside. You have to keep a balance.

In the past, I've been a casual observer of the Big Blue. I've kept my distance. I've written a couple stories about it and seen it flood many fields. But being on the river in my tiny kayak, I realized its beauty. I also realized how oblivious I was to the treasure it presents for Henry County, which the river cuts through. You don't hear people talk about it much. But being on it for five miles of kayaking, which takes a couple hours, I got to see what it offers. It's a natural jewel. As we kayaked, we saw Baltimore Orioles, geese, some duck-like creature neither Jeff or I could identity and a plethora of other animals I had never taken the time to notice were in Henry County. But on the river, you notice things like that. At one point, I realized how dangerous kayaking on the Big Blue can be. A tree had fallen across the river over the winter. It created a logjam, which is blockage of debris. The water gets really deep in front of the logjam because it has limited places to flow through. In our kayaks we floated toward the logjam and knew we couldn't get through it. So Jeff said we should try to get to the sides, but the sides of the river were elevated. Before I knew it I was heading straight for the debris stacked on the fallen tree. I hit the logjam. My boat turned, and water started rushing in. As my kayak began to flip, I jumped out. I stood on a branch that was submerged in the water until I found a way onto the bank of the river. Jeff had avoided the logjam by docking on the shore before hitting it.

The logjam incident shows how dangerous kayaking the river can be. It's probably best to only do it with experts like Jeff or other members of Friends of the Big Blue River who have done it before. Many of them have. The river water is also not the cleanest, so it's probably not good to swim in it. However, visiting the river, walking along it and working to keep contaminants out of it are all things we should do. They're all beneficial to us, and they'll make us feel good. To me, the Big Blue is a symbol. It represents all of the things in Henry County I've taken for granted.

I've lived here for two years now, and there's still so much I haven't done. And I'm sure there are people who have lived here all their lives and haven't taken advantage of everything Henry County has to offer. The good thing is there's still time.