Kayaking and River Boat Tour

Wildwood Kayak Adventure

I arrived at the kayak shuttle around 11 a.m. I had crossed the bridge near Twin Falls, MN. The St. Croix River divides Wisconsin and Minnesota until it joins the Mississippi further down stream.

The folks in the office at Wildwood RV and Campground were incredibly friendly and helpful, walking me through how the kayak tour worked. What surprised me most was that I didn’t have to sign any kind of waiver releasing them from responsibility for whatever dumb thing I might do on the water. The woman at the desk recommended a waterproof container—which I already had—and sunscreen. I held up my SPF 70 and got an approving nod.

I packed everything I thought I might need: a small first-aid kit, an extra camera lens, water with electrolytes, bug spray, snacks, a hat, and my trusty bug net. Hopefully, I was prepared. I was the only one on the shuttle, and a few minutes later, we were off.

The shuttle dropped me at the beach, where two high school-aged staff greeted me. I handed them my pass, and they told me to pick a kayak and paddle. Their directions were simple: “Paddle seven miles downriver, and when you see the one and only bridge, get out on the right side just after it.” That was it. Once again, I was surprised by how relaxed everything felt—people just grabbed boats and paddled off without any hand-holding.

Soon after launching, I saw the scenic paddle boat heading upstream. It zig-zagged through the shallow water, which couldn’t have been more than four or five feet deep. I assumed it was carefully following the channel.

For the next four hours, I paddled and drifted, stopping to photograph birds, frogs, rock formations, people fishing, mussel shells, and anything else that caught my eye. The east side of the river had more shade in the morning, so I stuck to that side. As the sun drifted westward, I crossed over and hugged the other bank.

At one point, I met up with a ranger who was paddling alongside two interns she was training from other parks. She worked summers here and gave out guidance to folks on the river. We ended up talking for a while—about the riverway, her job, travel, air quality, and the recent budget cuts to the National Park Service. She told me some rangers had lost their jobs but were later brought back when the impact on tourism and services became apparent. Passionate people doing important work with limited resources. She pointed out the muscles on the beach. Some are invasive she told me.

Camping On the Water

I noticed a large group of people setting up camp along the water. Everything was being brought in by boat. This is one of many camps the ranger had told me about yesterday that was only accessible by water. This was very remote camping and this group had obviously done several trips to bring everything in for this excursion. It looked like a fun weekend ahead.

I’m not sure how the area is managed, because the St. Croix National Scenic Riverway is part of the National Park Service, but on both sides of the river are state parks (Wisconsin and Minnesota). I do remember someone saying you need park pass for both states.

I reached the take-out point just past the bridge, where staff were already waiting to haul the kayaks out and load them up. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do. Every so often, someone would call out that the white shuttle bus was coming soon. That’s when I realized there were multiple companies running kayaking operations here. I thanked the ranger for the great conversation, and she wished me well on my van journey.

The shuttle turned out to be a full-size school bus that seemed to run continuously between 1 and 6 p.m. I made it back to the van, took a few minutes to clean up, and got ready for the next adventure—scheduled in less than two hours.

Falls Scenic Boat Tour

I had booked the 80-minute scenic boat tour down the St. Croix River from Taylors Falls. The Taylors Falls Princess—one of two paddlewheel boats operated by the company—was far from full, with maybe 30 people on board, which meant the upper deck was wide open. I grabbed a seat up top, right behind two friendly couples, and we started chatting.

One couple was heading out on a road trip through the Northeast: Boston, Newport, Portland, and Halifax—all places I’d already visited. They mentioned they were also planning to visit Prince Edward Island, so I started raving about the oysters, red sand beaches, and the relaxed pace of the island. A few minutes later, they checked their itinerary and realized—nope, no PEI. We had a good laugh.

Our guide provided an easygoing, informative narration as we cruised between towering cliffs. She explained that the company has been around since 1906 and now operates two paddlewheel boats—the Taylors Falls Queen, built in 1948, and the Princess, which came along in the 1990s. Both were custom-built for this stretch of the river. The captain running the boat today was the grandson of the man who started the company.

The Cross In The Rock

As we moved along the river, the guide told us how the St. Croix got its name. “St. Croix” is French for “Holy Cross,” named after a cross-shaped mark in the rock that early explorers spotted from just the right angle. The geology of the riverway is equally fascinating—billion-year-old basalt cliffs formed by ancient lava flows, later shaped and scoured by glaciers during the last Ice Age. She pointed out glacial potholes, dramatic rock layers, and vertical columns of cooled lava, all telling the story of deep time.

There was also a kind of local obsession with seeing faces and shapes in the rock. She pointed out “the turtle,” “the sleeping lady,” “the old man,” and a few others. Some were obvious, others... less so. It felt like geological cloud-watching.

Later, the captain shared a story about how he won over his wife’s grandfather—who happened to be the founder of the boat company. The grandfather told him he wouldn't bless the marriage unless the young suitor jumped off one of the high cliffs along the river. So he did. Then the grandfather jumped in after him. They got along great after that. Now, he's running the family business.

We also learned that the boats glide so smoothly because they're made of aluminum and have flat bottoms—perfect for hugging the shore and navigating the river’s shallow (3 feet) , ever-changing channels.

I had hoped to get some good bird photos, but aside from a few ducks flapping past, it was quiet on the wildlife front. The sunset wasn’t particularly showy either—blocked by the cliffs—but the ride itself was calm, enjoyable, and full of character.

The Drive-In

I had been told I had to check out The Drive-In in Taylors Falls. It’s a classic 1950s-style burger joint—chrome signage, paper hats, and oldies music. Back in the day, the waitresses wore roller skates. Not anymore, but the retro vibe is alive and well. You can eat in your vehicle, grab takeout, or sit inside. I took the hybrid route—ordered from my van and opened the side door to be served.

A truck pulled in next to me, and a young couple climbed into the bed of the truck. I recognized them from the water earlier in the day. While waiting for my 1/3-pound burger and fries (no salt), I overheard the guy say, “I need to replace my Heady Topper sticker.” That got my attention. For those who don’t know, Heady Topper was once considered the best beer in the world. Nearly impossible to find for a while, it sold at a premium, and bartenders would pour tiny shot glasses from a single can. I had tried to get a case while I was in Middlebury, VT once. The line was too long and when the line was cut I was way too far back.

I asked if they were from Vermont, and the guy looked surprised. Turns out they were both ER doctors, just taking three days off. She was from Newburyport, Massachusetts (near my son)—a historic shipbuilding town known for producing the fast, sleek clipper ships of the 1800s. We chatted until my food arrived.

The burger and fries were excellent, but the chocolate shake was a letdown. Fake whipped cream on top, a bright red cherry, and a shake that tasted more like ice milk than anything creamy or premium.

The Drive-In itself has been a Taylors Falls staple since 1956, family-owned and fiercely local. It’s a favorite stop for bikers, families, and road-trippers, and it still draws a steady crowd all summer. The building alone is worth the visit. It was a fun and nostalgic stop—and a great way to cap off the day.

I headed back to the St. Croix National Scenic Riverway Visitor Center to do a little reading and writing. I was still parked there after dark, and it was getting late. There was a Walmart a few miles away, and I had stayed there the night before. It wasn’t loud, but this spot was quieter—dark, peaceful, and relaxing. I didn’t see any “no overnight parking” signs, and my van blended in with the few government vehicles nearby. So I decided to stay the night.