Don’t do this trip if you ever want to go down a lazy river ride at a water park again.
Because after about 10 seconds of floating down a real river under real trees and past real islands, those turquoise-painted concrete streams will seem like a barbarity and the genuine article will seem like the secret of life itself.
Artificial lazy rivers have one advantage: They’re easy to find. Pretty much every water park has one.
The real thing, on the other hand, is a rarity within driving distance of Chicago. It takes a very specific topography to create a river that lends itself to inner tubing.
“You look at the gradient, which is how many feet per mile the river drops,” said Matt Meersman, owner with his wife, Danielle, of Niles Canoe & Outfitting. “Most of the rivers around here have a very mild gradient. We just don’t have the hills.”
But the Dowagiac River, which passes through Niles, “is unique,” he said. “It draws from a high ridge, and drains down into the St. Joseph River.”
The portion of the river just upstream from Niles Canoe & Outfitters is beloved by locals with their own tubes and friends willing to drop them off upriver and pick them up further down. For those without, Niles Canoe provides tubes, transportation and an afternoon in peaceful ecstasy.
We drove up to the Niles Canoe office, a sturdy shack along the river just outside town, a family of both eager and uneasy riders. My husband, Chuck Berman, doesn’t know how to swim and wasn’t quite ready to sign on; my 11- and 13-year-old daughters were ready to levitate with excitement.
Being a cold person (temperature, not temperament), I was worried only that I might freeze. The Dowagiac is 85 per cent spring-fed, and the water temperature generally hovers around 65 degrees, while I generally like to hover around 10 degrees warmer.
Meersman, a cheery 25-year-old with a long blond braid down his back, took us to the river’s edge so we would see where to get out, lest we end up floating past and into the larger St. Joseph River.
The river ranges from over 10 feet deep in a few spots to as little as a few inches. Most of the time, Meersman told us, it is about 2 to 3 feet deep, and we would be able to stand and touch the river bottom. That, in fact, would be how we would negotiate occasional barriers like fallen logs.
“You can paddle, but most of your control comes from your ability and willingness to stand up and hop around things,” he said.
We hopped into our swimsuits, put on sunscreen and water shoes, and got into the van with three women who would also be tubing for the first time. My 11-year-old, Nina, took a life jacket. My husband took a pass, which allowed him to take the pictures for this story.
Meersman drove us to a small municipal park along the river, a distance that took 15 minutes by van. By inner tube, it would take an hour and a half.
A group of locals was already there and already drinking beer. It was a worrisome sight; some inner tubing rivers have a reputation of being the equivalent of a floating spring break, with revelers towing coolers of beer behind them. But we never saw those beer drinkers, or any others, on the river.
We carried our tubes to the river and stepped in. Compared with Lake Michigan in early summer, it was warm. Emboldened, I put my tube into the water, and sat in it. The only part of my body that got wet was the one least susceptible to the cold.
And with that, we were off, slowly floating into the center of the stream and then carried down river with the current.
We were surrounded by forest. Birds sang on one bank of the river, and were answered from the other. Clay banks rose high above us, spring water dripping down with peaceful pings. We floated past tree roots exposed by the water, tangled like wood snakes or wispy as hair.
The water moved gently, but the current was respectable enough that when Nina stood and tried to walk upriver, it was a struggle. Still, even when the river sent us into a pile of wood on the shore of a small island, the impact was slight. We put out our feet, shrieking giddily, and pushed off again.
When the river turned deep, it ran smooth and silent; then we would hear a rushing sound ahead of us. “White water,” I shouted hopefully several times, but it turned out to be only mildly bumpy. We screamed happily as we went through it anyway.
Sometimes the current carried our tubes toward a log or a pile of trees. I learned to paddle away. My daughters, however, lacked the arm length and muscle strength to have much effect. They were simply carried by the current willy-nilly, which meant they spent some time tangled in overhanging trees, which they didn’t seem to mind.
Sometimes we held onto each other’s tubes — or feet — and floated together, until I realized that this meant I spent some time tangled in overhanging trees. When I saw that Nina and I were once again headed into some trees along the river’s edge, I responded maternally.
“Every man for himself,” I cried, kicking away from her tube and sending her into the trees as I floated free.
Robin, my 13-year-old, leaned back and closed her eyes in the sun. I dipped my head backwards into the cool water. It was simply too wonderful, and too unthreatening, to let Chuck leave without tubing.
So we returned the next day and did the whole thing again. Chuck floated, wearing a life preserver, and conceded that it was everything we had claimed.
Tubing is not entirely without risk. At one point, Robin floated toward a stick pointing out of the water at exactly her eye level, paying no attention as she turned backward to talk. A quick warning averted injury. At another point, one of the other tubers caught her foot in some underwater tree roots. She extricated herself, but was scraped.
“It’s not like a lazy river at a water park,” Meersman said. “You’ve got to keep your eyes open. Shallow as it is, the current is strong.”
We passed under a railroad bridge, past some teenagers swinging into the water from a rope, and finally floated under a road bridge. Then we were back, and vowing that next year, we would be back too.
THE BOTTOM LINE
Weekend expenses for two adults and two children:
Lodging (two nights) ……….. $360
Inner tubing (two trips) …….. $70
Meals ……………………… $91
Gas ……………………….. $14
Total …………………….. $535
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
Niles Canoe & Outfitting is about 100 miles from Chicago. Take Interstate Highway 90 to I-80/90 (Indiana Toll Road) to Exit 72. Go north on U.S. Highway 31 into Michigan. Take Exit 7, Walton Road, and make a right on Walton Road. Go 2 miles until it dead ends at Business 31. Turn right (south) about 2 miles and look for orange “Now Open” sign on the right at Niles Canoe.
Tubing costs $10 per person. Children must be 10 or older. Water shoes or old sneakers are essential. For information: 616-683-5110; www.nilescanoe.com.
LODGING
The Niles Inn & Conference Centre (930 S. 11th St., Niles; 616-684-3000) is an attractive locally owned property with an impressive large, deep and clean outdoor pool. Room prices average $69, but rise on special event weekends; the rooms overlooking the pool are particularly bright and cheerful. A disadvantage: The hotel does not serve breakfast. There are several restaurants within walking distance.
There is a Holiday Inn Express (1265 S. 11th St., Niles; 616-684-3900, 800-HOLIDAY), but the employees declined to let us see a room and were reluctant to reveal room rates (from $89 for a king with sofa bed to $129 for a Jacuzzi suite), so I can’t vouch for the hospitality.
We (or rather, the Tribune) splurged for the Pebbles of Brandywine Creek (1564 S. 3rd St., Niles, 616-687-8924; www.pebblesofbwc.com), a bed-and-breakfast perched above the aforementioned creek and run by Madeline Day, a delightful, spiritual-minded Englishwoman. Our daughters fell into paroxysms of delight at their first glimpse of the “Slow! Fairy Crossing” sign, and on Sunday had to be dragged from the wooden bridge over the creek. On our next trip, we’ll make more time to read at the edge of the wooded ravine. A room is $95 with private bath, $85 without.
DINING
In modest downtown Niles, the Golden Nugget Restaurant & Saloon (202 E. Main St.) has a reputation for good burgers. Our best meal was at Prime Table Restaurant (1915 S. 11th St.), which looks like a glorified diner on the main fast food/antique mall drag, but served tasty and monstrously sized ribs and a gorgeous-looking fresh fruit plate.
OTHER ACTIVITIES
Don’t leave without visiting Fernwood Botanical Garden & Nature Preserve (13988 Range Line Rd., Niles; 616-695-6491; www.fernwoodbotanical.org), and make sure you leave enough time. There are peaceful trails winding through gardens bright with purple verbena and black-eyed Susans. There is a sunny pond with cattails and enough frogs to catch to keep kids ecstatic. A nature center has huge windows overlooking a row of birdfeeders where we saw hummingbirds, a goldfinch, a downy woodpecker and a fox squirrel the size of a small dog. One trail lead into the woods to a silent pond where we saw a couple of turtles; a boardwalk trail goes through wetland to the St. Joseph River, where a platform overlooking the river cries out for a book and a free half hour.
We mini-golfed at Hacker’s Golf & Games (3019 S. 11th St., Niles; 616-684-6868), which also had the requisite go-karts, batting cages and driving range. But for a much more charming experience, head to nearby Golden Pond (corner of M-140 and Pokagon Rd., Berrien Center; 616-461-6744), a miniature golf course in the middle of rolling farmland. The intriguing driving range has six target greens with sand traps.
If you go before Nov. 3, the corn maze should be up at Wicks’ Apple House, a restaurant set amidst cornfields (52281 Indian Lake Rd., Dowagiac; 616-782-7306). And though we ran out of time, on a return trip I would check out the Horn Archaeological Museum at Andrews University in Berrien Springs, which has more than 700 Middle Eastern artifacts and one of the largest collections of ancient cuneiform tablets in the nation.
INFORMATION
Four Flags Area Council on Tourism, 616-684-7444; www.fourflagsarea.org.
— B.B.
