After 103 days traveling the mightiest river in North America via canoe I have reached my destination; the Gulf of Mexico. From Lake Itasca to the Gulf, source to sea on the Mighty Mississippi in 103 days.
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Video Blog
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Wind, big waves and a cloud covered sky. A challenging day on the river makes for a rewarding evening camped on the shore. Struggle is the process of growth.
In the afternoon the persistent headwind picked up force. With waves whipping in the main channel a few feet high I stuck to the shore line in hopes of mitigating my exposure to the open water. Large rock dams built horizontal to the rivers current stretch from one shore out into the main channel. Wing dams, as they are called, were constructed in the early days of commercial traffic on the Miss in hopes of forcing more water into the main channel, with the idea being more water means more depth and easier transport for large steamboats.
Navigating the Wing dams in my canoe, however, is almost always interesting and/or challenging. The dams create odd currents and standing waves that form at an angle and can be tricky to navigate.
The Wing dams and strengthening wind had finally forced my hand. Around 2pm I pulled off the river, finding wind shelter tucked behind a structure. After an hour or so of waiting for a break, I hopped back in the boat and worked a short distance to Caruthersville, MO, a town of about 6,000 folk.
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Nov. 1, 2017
As I write this, I'm lying in my tent, which is pitched on a small patch of ground that looked flat enough when setting up. Once I lied down after a solid afternoon and evening, however, I have found out that it's definitely not flat. A fairly steep angled slope should make the night interesting. I've also squashed two small spiders and removed one ear worm/centipede from the tent floor. It ain't all glamorous living on the loose.
The day began with rain. Expecting the weather, I had set up a taught tarp to avoid having to pack a went tent. Around 8am I got up and walked outside to find low hanging clouds moving quickly across the sky. As I reentered the tent and began to pack up my sleeping bag and blanket the rain picked up again. The next three hours consisted of me lying in bed dozing in and out of sleep to the sound of rain tapping the tarp overhead, telling myself to just get up and get on with it. I cooked breakfast and made coffee under the tarp.
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Day 58, a Video Blog
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Camping on the Eastern shore, a crisp shade covered camp in the morning. Despite the chill I took time to make coffee and do a bit of reading from the new book gifted to me by Jane in Quincy, IL, Mark Twains "Life on the Mississippi".
I broke camp and hit the water, ready to make my way into the sunshine that had taunted me while reading in the shade.
A beautiful, cloudless day on the water warranted a few layers of sunscreen throughout the afternoon.
Sometime around 5pm I spotted a large sandbar in the distance- the perfect spot to stop and set up shop for the night. As I pulled up to the edge, a silver, flat bottom boat came flying to the inside portion of the sandbar, which was shaped like a horseshoe. Three fellas in waiters began running the course of the sandbar, from one point of the horseshoe to the other, dropping a large net. As they worked, hundreds if not thousands of fish began jumping out of the water, covering the inside of the bay with a wall of flying fish.
I woke up early to cloud covered skies and enough of a headache that I contemplated my decisions the night before. The forecast called for on and off rain throughout the morning, with it picking it in the late afternoon.
I packed up the tent and made breakfast under the cover of an overhang that protected the deck of a beautiful log cabin home that Pam rents out on a nightly basis (the cabin was unoccupied.....I hope).
I hit the water and began working my way South toward a rendezvous in Quincy, IL. An old college friend of my Moms (whom she hadn't seen in 25+ years!) had been following the journey and offered to put me up for the evening.
I popped my head out of the tent first thing in the morning to find a cloud engulfing the river. Thick fog had socked in camp, and hung around so low and dense that seeing the opposite shore wasn't an option, let alone around the next bend. Knowing that the mid morning sun would eventually burn off the haze, I enjoyed a slow AM that gave way to reading, knocking out a few posts, and a few cups of Joe.
With the Iowa/Minnesota border a mile or so down river I was soaking up my last breaths of Minnesota air. 36 days spent canoeing this great state. From the trickling headwaters at Lake Itasca, filled with swampland and waterfowl, to the swimming black bear near Grand Rapids, the turning tree tops of Brainerd, the city skyline of Minneapolis and St. Paul, the towering bluffs of the driftless, hundreds if not thousands of bald eagles, deer, beaver, and of course the amazing people. On a few occasions I heard folks toss around the phrase "Minnesota Nice", which is what I've come to realize as the norther equivalent of "Souther Hospitality". The past 36 days have proved to me that Minnesota Nice is more than a saying or a slogan. It's a northern way of life. And I'm damn thankful to have been able to experience it in its truest form- via canoe on the Mighty Mississippi.
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After a later than normal night watching the sky put on a shown in form of heat lightning and shooting stars the morning took a slower start. I took the dew covered rainfly off my tent and set it aside to dry in the sun. Even this early in the AM it was clear today was gonna be a hot one.
I had two calls lined up to my Illinois classrooms at 9:30 and 10:15. Both went well. Once again with the kids were full of energy and asking all kinds of questions. I even got the "don't you have a wife and kids at home?" question. Lol!
While on the phone with the kiddos Max pushed off and hit the river. After wrapping up my calls I loaded the boat and got on the water around 11:30 or so. The plan was to make a food resupply stop 3 miles down river in Wabasha, Mn as all the food I had left was a can of chili and chicken noodle soup.
I pulled up to a public park and dragged the boat onto the sand. Grabbing my skateboard and backpack I ran into the nearest grocery store, a quick 10 minute skate from the river.
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After packing up the tent in the morning I decided to scoot into town to try and find some food and/or a new paddle.
Prescott, Wisconsin was just around the bend and I figure I would try my hand at finding a sporting goods store for a canoe paddle (first stop on Wisconsin! Woohoo!) I started the search by stopping in The Twisted Oak Coffee House just a block off the river. With a warm cup of Joe and blueberry scone I studied maps of the upcoming stretch of river, charged up my backup battery pack and busted out a journal entry.
The barista, a young fellow likely in his early 20s, informed me that there were no sporting goods stores in town. Closest place would be up river to Hastings (obviously not an option for me) or down river towards Red Wing, Mn.
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A solid nights sleep in the hammock made for an early morning. Without the cover of a rain fly (which I use on my tent and acts like a roof, blocking out sun and the outside world) I typically wake up with the sunrise when hammocking and today was no exception. Toss in the planes taking off from the St. Paul Airport runway directly across the river and I was up and at it fairly early. I made a cup of coffee and packed up my sleeping arraignment as well as some miscellaneous gear. For the past 6 days Max and I have traveled together. It's an interesting dynamic. We both enjoy each others company and had a great time hanging out and meeting folks along the river. I think we both learned a good deal from one another, and we certainly had good times. Definitely had good times. We are also pretty similar in a lot of ways, including the enjoyment of independence and traveling solo. With that in mind, Max pushed off around 8:30. I sure hope to run into him again down river or on another adventure, or even pay a visit to his abode in Chicago.
As Max paddled away down river I hopped on the phone and had another great interview with my friends and colleagues at 950 KWAT radio in Watertown, SD. I told stories, many surrounding the folks I had met along the way thus far.
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I woke up this morning to a wet tent floor. The water from the sand bar had seeped up and my sleeping pad paid the price. I heard Max rustling around before he spoke out.
"What's up! You get wet?"
"Just the sleeping pad and tent floor. I'm dry. You?"
"Same"
After hearing Max exit his tent..."Uhh we got bigger problems. My boat is gone"
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(9-9-17)
I woke up this morning knowing it would be a slower AM, as I had to catch up on some of my journal entries that I had pushed off for the past few days. While I know that they need to be done, like anything, the process takes time. And when you are looking at a map of 2,300 miles and you've only paddled 300 or so in 18 days, it can be tough not to ditch everything and try to make as many miles as possible. I often have to convince myself to slowdown and enjoy the process. Not only does it seem that folks are enjoying reading these updates, but I know that I too will enjoy reading them several years down the line when reminiscing about that "crazy adventure" I took when I was 25. Even with all that said it can still be tough to convince myself to sit still and take the time to bust out a post after 11 hours padding, breaking down and setting up camp in a new location, cooking and cleaning and all the other daily routines that keep life on the river afloat. Still, I know I need to do them as the benefit will pay off down the line...so I do.
After knocking two updates out and grubbing some oatmeal and coffee I loaded the boat and began working toward Brained, MN. Today the paddling was easy, not because of the wind or the weather or a strong current, but because of football. Specifically, Colorado football.
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I rose around 7AM with the goal of being on the water around 8:30. With a full days rest, several home cooked meals and a few hot tub sessions under my belt I was ready to get after it.
Once again, Don and Deb had oatmeal with butter and sugar, buttered toast and coffee waiting for me. Awesome. I packed up the boat and was getting ready to take off when Don trotted down to the river bank with a yellow shopping bag in hand - "can't forget your cookie dough!" He had packaged me a bag full of Aunt Edmoes famous cookie dough (the eggless version) on ice and wrapped in several zip locks. Armed with enough sugar to take down a Rhino I hit the water at 8:45 with Don and Deb both video taping via phones my departure.
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It looks like fall has officially arrived. I woke up this morning to a chilly campsite. For the first time all trip I had no dew or rain on my tent or gear in the morning...a big plus to start the day! I slept in a bit later than normal, waking up naturally at 8AM. While making and enjoying breakfast I fired off a few photos and videos to the classrooms I am working with and scheduled our next video chat- tentatively set for Thursday.
I broke camp and hit the water later than anticipated, around 10:30-11ish. The weather today called for a high of 54 degrees, cloudy skies and a chance of sprinkles throughout the day. Why does it seem like the weatherman always gets the forecast right when it's not in your favor?
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Today was the toughest day yet, but still a great day.
I woke up to the sunrise and my small makeshift campsite drenched in dew. Throughout the night I heard several big fish rise and feed off the surface, making big splashes. All kinds of waterfowl and river life was bustling around me.
I knew today that I needed to reach Grand Rapids, MN as my beloved CU Buffs kicked off their season with a rivalry matchup against little brother Colorado State.
The day called for cloudy skies, a stiff wind and a chance of rain. Clouds and rain are no worries- but that wind....ouch. Small white caps were being blown my way for much of the day, making it look as though I was traveling upstream. It was tough, slow going. The thought of watching the game with a warm burger and beer in Grand Rapids kept me moving toward my 35 mile goal.
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