There aren't many places anymore where you can see Florida as it was before Europeans arrived and started building strip malls, condos and trailer parks. But one place you can almost always count on is the water. It's a whole different world out there on the rivers, bays, gulf and ocean, where birds, bugs, fish, reptiles and amphibians still hold dominion.One of the best ways to experience this world fully — to see it, hear it, smell it and be a part of it — is in a kayak or canoe. I'd be lying if I said I was a proficient paddler. I never quite got the hang of piloting a canoe, but even I can handle a kayak. It's easier to steer and even with virtually no upper-body strength, I can keep it moving in the right direction.

When I lived in Seminole Heights, I bought a swamp-green two-seater at Art's Swap Shop on Nebraska Avenue. It was stable in the water but heavy and a little slow to respond. My boyfriend, Michael, had a sleeker model in bright yellow. It was tippy and skittish, but extremely responsive and fast. We'd put in the Hillsborough River at Curtis Hixon Park, just south of Hillsborough Avenue, and paddle around, maybe up to Lowry Park and back.

Being in a kayak has a couple of drawbacks that become apparent the first time you take it out on the river. The first is that smart-ass speedboaters like to try and swamp you by kicking up a big wake. The second is that you're pretty much at eye level with the gators, which look even bigger from that angle. Michael is fond of telling the story of how I wimped out on the way to Lowry Park once and refused to paddle past an alligator that, I swear, was bigger than my kayak.

Still, there's nothing like slicing through a quiet stretch of river, getting within a few feet of turtles and herons, exploring the flora and less carnivorous fauna of Florida's oldest passageways. I haven't been kayaking for a while, but a couple of new books have me thinking about it again.

From the Swamp to the Keys: A Paddle Through Florida History, published by University Press of Florida, is Johnny Molloy's account of his two-month canoe trip from the Okefenokee Swamp to Long Key. Molloy's leisurely prose meanders much like the rivers he travels, dipping briefly into historical facts and anecdotes about such things as cattle ranching, paleo-Indians, the clamming industry and Civil War deserters who hid in the swamps.

This book is really not useful as a guide, but the author's descriptions of life far from traffic jams and big-box stores provide a certain respite, even if you can't follow his path.

Molloy has some wilderness cred, having written 22 books about camping, paddling, hiking and other outdoor adventures, including Beach and Coastal Camping in Florida, A Paddler's Guide to Everglades National Park and Hiking Trails of Florida's National Forests, Parks and Preserves. Yet he still does some stupid and clumsy stuff on this trip, and he doesn't mind telling you about his misadventures and laughing at himself.

Another new paddling book, which hit bookstores just last week, is pretty much the opposite of Molloy's book. Florida's Fabulous Canoe and Kayak Trail Guide, by writer Tim Ohr and photographer Pete Carmichael, catalogs Florida's aquatic passageways with detailed information about trails, along with maps, tips, interesting tidbits and drop-dead gorgeous photographs.

It's the 14th book in the Florida's Fabulous series, published by Tampa-based World Publications. Ohr and Carmichael also collaborated on Florida's Fabulous Trail Guide and Florida's Fabulous Natural Places, and are working on Florida's Fabulous Lighthouses and Okeefenokee: Blackwater Wilderness. Both have contributed to other books in the series, which includes Florida's Fabulous books about reptiles and amphibians, insects, birds, butterflies, spiders, flowers, trees, fishes and seashells. The large-format, glossy books — part reference, part coffee-table books — all have stunning photography and reliable information about Florida's fascinating, diverse and sometimes creepy natural world. Carmichael and Ohr are both occasional contributors to the Planet. In fact, it's a coincidence that Ohr wrote this week's cover story. However, as a gardener, hiker and general nature nerd, I was a fan of the series long before meeting either one of them.

Canoe and Kayak Trails is divided into four regions: Northwest, North, Central and South Florida. The book reveals a surprising variety in the state's waterways, including, surprisingly, whitewater rapids and waterfalls, albeit small ones.

For each trail, Ohr describes things like what kind of wildlife you can expect to see, how difficult the paddling will be, and what the scenery looks like. He describes rivers, from those stained nearly black by tannins to the browns and yellows of alluvial runs and the jewel-tone blues and greens of spring-fed rivers. Among the places he recommends most highly are Silver River for its exceptional scenery and wildlife (including Rhesus monkeys); Blue Springs for the manatees; Withlacoochee North for the thrilling ride it provides, and the Aucilla for its unparalleled beauty. He also sprinkles in camping info, some historical facts and information about environmental conservation.

Appendices contain information about canoe and kayak outfitters, parks and public land-management agencies, and clubs and organizations.

Sidebars throughout the book include a profile of a river guide, ecological facts, safety tips — and a piece on paddling with alligators, which I intend to wave under Michael's nose. It says all alligators should be considered dangerous. "While alligator attacks are rare, they do happen. … it is a real risk, and alligators have attacked kayaks, although it is not clear for what reason."

So maybe it's time to give up kayaks and try canoeing again.

Or maybe I'll just sit down with my new books and enjoy a trip through unspoiled Florida without leaving the air-conditioned comfort and safety of my Lazyboy this summer.

Contributing Editor Susan F. Edwards can be reached at susan.edwards@weeklyplanet.com.

This article appears in Jun 24-30, 2004.