I had never hiked in a rich shrub fen before. I didn't even know what a rich shrub fen was. Fortunately, as I headed down the trail at The Dorothy McIlroy Bird Sanctuary south of Lake Como in Summerhill, I passed an informative kiosk with diagrams and descriptions explaining exactly how a fen differs from a bog. You know; the technical stuff.

Armed with this new found, if not totally digested information I continued down the trail into a magical wonderland. Elves and pixies should have popped out from behind the trees. The trail was covered in a soft duff, padding each footfall. Beyond the trail, the woods floor was lumpy with the slowly decaying remnants of old tree trunks. I tip-toed on (not wanting to disturb any sleeping elves or pixies) and reached the shore of Lake Como Outlet. Gazing past the sedges and dead trees I discovered why this is called a bird sanctuary.

Such is the joy and diversity I've found hiking trails in New York State's Finger Lakes Region. I'd progressed from pixie-land to bird-land in one short hike. The Finger Lakes Region is better known for its long, slender glacially gouged lakes. But, among the hills and valleys surrounding these lakes is a day-hiker's paradise.

Another joyful surprise was the Sandy Bottom Nature Trail. OK, why should a place called Sandy Bottom be a surprise to anyone? Well, for starters, I didn't see a sandy bottom. Maybe I just didn't look closely enough. I was spellbound by the loon paddling a flooded wetland where Honeoye Outlet Creek leaves Honeoye Lake. I associate loons with pristine northern waters, but here was this little fellow paddling away in the spring run off from a Finger Lake. He was enjoying his world of extended wetness and I was enjoying being high and dry on a raised boardwalk that wound through the marshland where plants poked their heads above ground in recognition of spring. We were both happy.

On a hot summer day I hiked the trails at Wesley Hill Nature Preserve in South Bristol, one of the many newly preserved lands with hiking trails compliments of the very active Finger Lakes Land Trust. I wandered through a pine forest enveloped in the aroma of fresh pine, then descended to the depths of Briggs Gully. Here my impish side took over and I frolicked in the stream where water slides gracefully over scallops of shale, then slows in deep pools. I couldn't resist the urge to splash in the pools. A hike and a dip on a hot summer day - life doesn't get any sweeter.

The majority of Ithaca's waterfalls can be found in the three creekbeds that bisect the city on their way to Cayuga Lake. Fall Creek, as the name implies, is dotted with waterfalls. Closest to the lake is 150-foot-high Ithaca Falls, a prime swim area as well as a mesmerizing waterfall. Take a 2-mile round-trip hike east from Stewart Avenue on the Cayuga Trail and you'll pass Forest Falls, Foaming Falls, Rocky Falls and finally Triphammer Falls in the heart of Cornell University.

Slightly south of Fall Creek is Cascadilla Creek. Begin your climb from the corner of W. Court Street and Linn Street for a 1.4-mile round-trip hike up the gorge. You'll pass 9 waterfalls with a culmination at 50-foot-high Cascadilla Falls. Further upstream is Judd Falls, where Reuben Judd operated a water powered woolen mill from 1832 to 1858. This waterfall can be viewed from Judd Falls Road where the Ithaca Recreationway Trail crosses the road on an old railroad bridge.

The third waterfall laden creekbed is Sixmile Creek. A short walk from the Mulholland Wildflower Preserve parking area leads to Wells (or Business Man's Lunch) Falls which is now capped with Van Nattas Dam. Hike the opposite direction for 4.8 miles round-trip and you'll pass two waterfalls created by dams on your way to Potter's Falls. Potter's Falls is a 25-foot-high, jagged-edged cascade nestled in a deep forest. It's the perfect place to contemplate your existence.

Even now, you're far from done exploring the waterfalls of Ithaca. Head south to explore Buttermilk Falls in Buttermilk Falls State Park and Lucifer and Lower Falls in Robert H. Treman State Park, and hike a segment of the Finger Lakes Trail to see 3 waterfalls in Lick Brook. Then change to Teva-type sandals or old sneakers and get your feet wet creekwalking up VanBuskirk Gorge to enjoy two more impressive waterfalls.

North of Ithaca you'll find Taughannock Falls on the west side of Cayuga Lake and Ludlowville Falls on the east side. Head over to Dryden and follow the Finger Lakes Trail to Bud Brook where 12 waterfalls are your reward.

Whew, I'm out of breath just talking about exploring the waterfalls around Ithaca. Your quest won't be easy. Reaching many of these waterfalls requires long hikes, steep climbs or the mastery of many steps. But, oh the rewards. Your heart will pump healthier and you senses will be enriched with new sights and sounds.

Find these and hundreds of other waterfalls in "200 Waterfalls in Central & Western NY."

Here are ten great discoveries in the Finger Lakes Region that you can only experience by hopping (gently) into a canoe or kayak:

- Scout for river otters in Honeoye Inlet.
- Paddle back in time on the Erie Canal, the Old Erie Canal and Clinton's Ditch in one trip.
- Paddle down East Bay then onto Lake Ontario to see wind and water sculpted Chimney Bluffs.
- Paddle to sand dunes on Deer Creek.
- Explore fields of water lilies on Long Pond in Happy Valley.
- Paddle under an Old Erie Canal aqueduct on Nine Mile Creek.
- Take a long trip down the winding Chenango River.
- Plan a weekend campout and paddle trip to Long Pond in Cincinnatus.
- Paddle the Otselic River and watch for mink, deer, turtles, muskrats, hawks, geese, ducks and songbirds.
- Find the beaver den along Sterling Creek.

Begin your adventures on water by picking up a copy of the new guidebook "Take a Paddle - Finger Lakes New York Quiet Water for Canoes & Kayaks," Footprint Press, www.footprintpress.com, 1-800-431-1579.

Imagine moving slowly by wagon, over roads that are mere ruts of mud, to build a log cabin in a remote wilderness. This is precisely what the early pioneers to upstate New York did. When they arrived on their plot of land, often purchased from the Phelps & Gorham Land Tract or Holland Land Company, they had to clear the trees from the dense forest to create fields for farming.

Then they discovered the fields were full of fist-sized stones (or cobblestones), evidence that glaciers scoured this land before the forests grew. Those pesky rocks had to be moved out of the way and as they plowed, the cobbles seemed to multiply. It was hard work, but the land was productive and the pioneers were able to grow enough produce to feed their large families.

Then the Erie Canal opened in 1825, creating a way to get their produce to larger markets. The farming business flourished, enough so that they began to think about building a better home for their hardworking wives and 10+ children. Why not put those pesky cobblestones to use and build a dandy home - they were by golly, lying about free in the fields, just waiting to be gathered. And, the pioneers were not strangers to hard labor.

This is how many of the 700+ cobblestone buildings in a 65-mile radius of Rochester, New York came into existence. They were built between 1825 and 1860, before the Civil War. Each was a work of folk art; each unique.

Today, many of the cobblestone buildings are standing and still in use, a testament to fine craftsmanship. A few of the masons who built houses in upstate New York, migrated farther west and built a spattering of cobblestone buildings in the mid-west. But, by far, the bulk that were ever built, are in upstate New York, south of Lake Ontario.

How many cobblestones does it take to build a house anyway? Cobblestone homeowner Margaret Deans actually counted. She estimates it took 14,402 cobblestones to build her circa-1862 farmhouse. Now that's a lot of stone picking!

The cobblestone buildings are clustered in a region that begs a driving tour. Well, maybe not just one, but 17 different driving tours.

That's why Rich & Sue Freeman researched and wrote "Cobblestone Quest - Road Tours of New York's Historic Buildings" as their next guidebook.

"Don't miss the southern reaches of the Genesee River" she said. I looked at her quizzically. I was compiling a list of waterways to paddle in Western New York at the beginning stages of work on my "Take A Paddle" guidebooks. I was asking every waterway expert I could find for ideas. Laura Arney, a one-woman bandwagon for the Genesee River, was adamant that this one was a gem. I wasn't so sure. I had grown up in Rochester, and to me the Genesee River was a wide, muddy torrent of water.

So, with reservations, my kayak and I headed south to Wellsville in late July. Before me lay a wide, shallow stream filled with crystal-clear water. Could this be the same river - the Genesee River that carved the deep gorge of Letchworth and wallows northward to Lake Ontario? I launched into the swift current and headed downstream through a constant series of ripples and small runs interspersed with flat water sections. In late July, with low water levels, I had to push over shallow spots quite often, but I didn't mind. The cool water felt good and between pushes the current carried me along.

As a novice, this stretch of the Genesee River was a rush. I could almost always see a clear run out beyond the ripples, which calmed my inexperienced, wildly beating heart. A few times I walked the kayak around chutes that were impeded by trees or where I couldn't see the run out before a pull-out decision had to be made. Gravel banks at the inside of each bend made this scouting process easy. The water would be higher in spring and probably cover many of the ripples. Others might turn into class II white water.

I encountered few signs of civilization. The view was of wooded banks and a few sharply cut sand banks for variety. My companions were ducks, herons, crows, and woodchucks. A gravel bar at the inside of a river bend provided an easy spot to haul out for a break. I sat, eating GORP (Good Old Raisins and peanuts) and drinking water, as the river gurgled gracefully before me.

After 10 miles and 3 hours, I reached the dam in Belmont and headed right to take-out above the dam. After a short gap in Belmont caused by the dam and some small waterfalls, there's another 40 mile stretch of paddling water from Belmont to Portageville. Then you darn well better haul out or risk tumbling over some mighty waterfalls into the Letchworth Gorge. Laura was right. The southern reaches of the Genesee River should not be missed.