The Challenge a Success - A Special Thanks to My Supporters!

At the time I first began writing this, I felt as though there was a swell of water beneath me, rising me up then easing me down. I was on land, but still feeling the movement of 44 miles of river.

It was a grand affair! Approximately 350 paddlers participated in this year's Mississippi River Challenge. Commencing at Coon Rapids Dam and ending at Grey Cloud Island, kayaks and canoes (and even one stand-up paddle boarder) had good weather conditions and a safe route before them. We had no one capsize or take on serious injury and other than some sunburn and minor dehydration, everyone had a happy and fulfilling experience.

On Friday we dropped our boats off at the dam. I received the safety briefing from Whitney, got my radio, flag and 'Safety Captain' T. The next day we head to Grey Cloud island where we dropped off our vehicles. Buses then shuttled us back to Coon Rapids and we gave the participants the safety briefing. It was pretty basic stuff, but important nonetheless. Our basic procedure for assisting tips in the river is to have them stay with their boat and account for everyone, then a safety captain would tow them ashore where they can empty water, reassemble, etc. There would be nothing fancy as their is assistance from both Coast Guard and Sheriff's Dept. Rarely do people tip over! We give them reminders of the route and basic regulations, and tell them how to operate in the locks. Easy stuff.

As in the past, there was an Ojibwe drum ceremony which takes place as people are shoving off. Years past, we'd wait until the ceremony was over. But, as that got lengthy, it now runs concurrently with the push-off.

We were spaced about one safety captain to 18, or so, boats. There were 12 captains, so it gives you an estimate of number of different vessels. The mood was upbeat and fun.

Both of the two days was broken up into 3 rest-stops. At each, groups would come in and would be assisted by volunteers who helped land the boats. Stops would include things like bananas, yogurt, nature bars, a bagel chunk and various salt snacks. Beverage was either water or gatorade (a wee less savory in mix-form).

Waste was cut to an amazing minimum. There were no bottled water and most people brought their own bottle. Cups, plates and utensils were all starch-based and therefor compostable. It would make you pause, coming to dump your refuse and placing 90% of it in the 'Compost' bin! You look at the nearly empty trash can and marvel at the conservation being done.

The day was sunny and got quite warm. We carried some extra water bottles to distribute to those people in need. I had to make sure I stayed hydrated as well. As mentioned in past blogs, the antibiotic I am taking for Lyme's Disease has made me particularly sensitive to the sun, which is a new experience. The back of my hands began to hurt and feel as though they are being baked by radiation. I slobbed on some sun screen to prevent further damage, but especially beneath my fingernails, it felt as though I was being baked by a heat lamp and was burning.

Below Coon Rapids dam we had found shallow, rocky patches, with currents whipping around. But once you had cleared them, the Mississippi maintained an adequate depth. The shoreline was steep in many places and although there were trees and some rock outcroppings, the Minneapolis waterline is one that more reminds you of industry and human manipulation of the river than it does with coexistence. The St. Anthony and Ford Parkway dams are neat experiences, though. You let your intentions be known to the lockmaster, herd the boats inside, the doors shut and water empties as you drop the 50 feet to the lower level. As the doors open downstream, you can see spectators on the overlooking catwalks above, waving and taking pictures. People usually act in haste at this point and we do our best to cause some obstruction to regulate the flow.

People behaved well. There was one moment, before we were about to entire St. Anthony lock, that became a tad bit alarming. As we herded boats to the far right, in order to enter the lock and prevent getting hung up on the falls, I noticed that there were some picture takers, floating far to river left. They were taking pictures of the big Grain Belt sign and seemed oblivious to the fact that the falls were approaching. I gave them some time but made my way their way. Once patience was worn and danger drew closer I sprinted my boat out towards them and repeated "Stay to the right. Stay to the right," until they complied. Not a big deal, I just wondered how close I could safely take my own boat towards them if they did get hung up.

Another special moment was crossing under the new 35W bridge. Last year's event occurred only 2 weeks after the tragic collapse. This year, however, we were able to pass beneath this concrete behemoth. There were large arches, above and you could see some debris at the foundations below. Workers were everywhere. I was most curious about the great wooden beams at the top of the supports which either held workers or framed the new concrete.

The day ended at Fort Snelling. Looking very forward to reaching the last stop of the day, I rounded the bend, and above the tree-encrusted bluffs, sat the old fort.

Once you ascend the long and steep paved path, a little tent village can be seen. This houses first aid, food, massage and information from other non-profits. I was anxious to get things going so jumped in the gear truck the first it arrived to empty out the bags of 350 persons. It was my own form of massage after paddling for 22 miles.

In a tradition I've set for myself, I was first to set up tent on the parade grounds. In this selfish act I declare my territory and encourage others to set up in this historical locale, instead of outside the fort walls! At some time, I would hope at least one of you would join me!

There were many familiar faces. Some people I know from the event of past year's, some from non-profit work, some from other past chapters of life. I met a few new folks this year and had a good time hanging out with them. Some odds and ends that learned from such folk... One guy, who just completed a 61-day paddle of the entire Mississippi, said of the 221 bridges that cross the river, over 100 of them are in Minnesota! Neat, huh? In another conversation I learned more about beer. India Pale Ale's were created by England so that the beer would last for long voyages. Normally, beer became skunky after such long voyages. However, by upping the alcohol content and increasing aroma and bitterness with hops, the beer arrived tasty, thus beginning a successful history of export. I should do something with the 3 different varieties of hops that I grow! If you are a brewer and would like to use them, by all means, help yourself!

Everyone had a wrist-band with 5 tags. One for dinner, 3 for beer or root beer and one for a root beer float. Summit provided a canoe full of beer once again.

A band played beneath the dinner tent. The frontman joked "that he had a special prize for anyone not wearing any REI products or Keens." That was pretty good! I was guilty of both. Oh, how far I've fallen! After dinner, speeches were made, the sponsors, such as Great River Energy, were applauded, prices were given and the band continued on.

Most people collapsed into their tents as soon as the band wrapped up. With the exception of some drunken revelers, the night became silent.

For the second and last day, I ended up as number 2. This was cool, in that I got to go at a much quicker clip (the fast folk always push to the front) and finish earlier, but it also meant that I had less time to rest. Being that lunch arrived a little late, I had to tuck my sandwich in my cockpit and paddle on.

The second day is the prettier one and it is so wonderful to hear even Minneapolis folk talk about how much better the St. Paul waterline is than the one in Minneapolis. The downtown is pressed up to the river, with buildings that appear adhered to the cliff face. The tannish color of the building materials also gives St. Paul a more natural reflection of its surrounding. Minneapolis appears to force itself upon its surrounding whereas St. Paul seems to co-habitate with it.

Nature is the real star of the second day. Just downriver from downtown St. Paul, you pass the tannish-white bluffs of Mounds Park and descend to banks of mostly green trees and shrubs. Once you pass Pig's Eye Island you have birds of every sort populating the refuge. Egrets, herons, eagles, pelicans, cormorants, hawks and gulls soar from tree to tree and in the air currents.

We had only a few barges pass us. They are large and slow and easy to steer clear of. It's the recreational power boaters that cause the most annoyance. Often oblivious to the wake they create they will zoom by and sometimes weave between our boats only to later get scolded by the Coast Guard.

Lion's Levee is arguably the most beautiful stretch of the Mississippi throughout the Twin Cities. This back channel saves you from the large open pool of wind, barges and recreational boaters of the main channel and give you a peaceful moment to reflect. The water appears still and the banks are at times only 10 feet away on either side. To your left, a base of sedimentary rock, weathered dark gray and black rises some ten feet and then the earth and trees above that another 10, giving you a close, tunnel-like feel. Herons squawk and your paddle strokes break flat, brown water. Coming out of the channel you can see a large shelf that sticks about ten feet out and trees grow on top of it. For fun you can pass beneath it and think 'what if this ledge gave way right now?' The flag that stuck up from my boat scraped the ceiling overhead.

The last stretch is always the toughest. Every one is fatigued and the little aches you've had grow into larger ones. My old pitching neck nerve comes back to me at this point and my seat-back wears into me. I remind myself that I felt this way last year and I'll feel this way next. But soon, you see the entrance into the Grey Cloud channel. I took the place of the safety captain ahead and directed boaters, so they would not miss the turn and continue down the river. Man, that would suck! At this point, you just want to get it done.

In time you round the bend and see the beach of the aggregate company. Volunteers are cheering and you feel silly at their applause. You straighten up your shoulders, provide a stronger stroke and act as though you've paddle with such deliberation the entire way. Five last paddle strokes and you hear the scrape of sand beneath your hull. Popping of your spray skirt, stepping into the water and, with assistance, carrying your boat to shore, you realize you've completed this great trek, once again.

Thanks so much for all of your support and your donations. This event has become an annual pilgrimage for me and has become a spiritual journey. Coming off of Lyme's Disease and the weariness of the road, I dreamt of home and hammock. But your support has helped me take the path all the more healing. Your donations go to a cause I dearly love and to people doing good work.

Thanks again all. I've whispered your names to the river.