“You are listening to National Weather Service radio station WXM 99…. Here’s the weather summary…Cold conditions will continue…snow showers and light rain…low’s 30-35, high in the mid 40’s, winds 15-20 mph..”

The cracking, digitized voice from the weather radio was bringing us little good news but is was time to get moving. [...]]]> May 5, 2005

“You are listening to National Weather Service radio station WXM 99…. Here’s the weather summary…Cold conditions will continue…snow showers and light rain…low’s 30-35, high in the mid 40’s, winds 15-20 mph..”

The cracking, digitized voice from the weather radio was bringing us little good news but is was time to get moving. It was time to get this show on the road – rain, sleet, snow, or gloom of night be damned.

Somehow we managed to get on the river a day earlier than expected. We were exhausted from packing, driving up, and all the last-minute running around but still anxious to get on the water. I felt a combination of joy and panic just before the first paddle stroke knowing that there were some 2,350 miles staring us in the face. All of the months of planning, dreaming, and worrying were now behind us and we could just concentrate on paddling.

The Mississippi River begins in Itasca State Park, Minnesota, as the outflow of Lake Itasca. Itasca State Park was established in 1891 to help protect the surrounding pine forests from logging. The Civilian Conservation Corps built many of the current facilities during the 1930’s, including the small rock dam at the end of Lake Itasca where the river begins its journey to the Gulf of Mexico.

At the very headwaters, the Mississippi resembles more a creek than a river. It’s about fifteen feet wide and maybe fourteen inches deep—you could step across it if you wanted to. As we were loading the canoe, several kids ran back and forth a little log bridge that spanned the river. I wondered if they had any idea how big that little creek gets or where it ends up.

Just before we pushed off I took good luck drink from the lake. The water was so cold it made my teeth hurt. As I helped load the last final items with an ice cream headache, the thought of capsizing the canoe went through my head. Usually I’m always up for a swim but that’s going to have to wait until it warms up a little bit. I’m convinced the reason the water is so cold here is because it’s piped in from the Arctic Circle.

No matter what happens over the next ten weeks I’m happy that we just tried to make a go of this trip. Taking a risk to hang your dream out there for the world to see is terrifying, yet fulfilling all the same. The first step is always the hardest, so everything else is gravy now.

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If we were to paddle the Mississippi again, there a few things that I’d consider doing differently.  Every long journey gives you more experience, and the Mississippi [...]]]> August 12, 2006

If we were to paddle the Mississippi again, there a few things that I’d consider doing differently.  Every long journey gives you more experience, and the Mississippi River trip was no different. There’s an old adage that “Good judgment comes from experience, and good experience comes from bad judgment.” That would be me.

First off would be to have more of a cash cushion to work with. Jess and I were both in the middle of our PhD programs at the time, and were your typical broke grad students. Having a little more cash to fall back on would have taken some pressure off many decisions, like whether or not to get a motel room when we probably could have used the rest.

I would have treated this more like a backpacking trip and carried less junk. We didn’t have a cooler or dutch oven, but there were certainly things that we could have cut out or combined. There’s a simplicity to cutting out almost everything and going lean that I’ve grown to appreciate.

The canoe worked out fine, but was larger than necessary from the headwaters down to Bemidji. Bemidji State University’s Outdoor Program Center rents smaller (pre-scratched) canoes that would have been more appropriate for that first stretch.

We’ll definitely have better rain gear along for the next trip. Paddling-specific clothing, with tighter cuffs and better design would have been great to have as it rained for the better part of the first month. My rain pants were marginal to begin with, and they failed completely about two weeks into the trip.

I was trying to get a newspaper article out once a week, sending out dispatches largely from libraries along the way. Next time I’d stretch that interval to every other week, and either carry a laptop or PDA / folding keyboard combination. Technology is changing rapidly, and there are already several products on the market that would make ideal small expedition computers for writing, sending photos, and getting info on the fly. Flash memory has gotten so inexpensive that we would probably just carry a few memory cards for the entire trip instead of juggling one card and burning cd’s along the way.

We needed to have a firm ending date in order to get back to school, and that was a stress inducer for the entire trip for me. Next time around, we’ll finish when we finish, ending dates be damned.

That’s about it. Most of these are fairly minor, but collectively had a large enough impact on the trip to affect decisions along the way. Long trips are often a crap shoot as to whether they’ll be successful or not, but it doesn’t hurt to stack the cards in your favor whenever possible

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I hope ya’ll have enjoyed following our trip. It’s been a pleasure sharing it with you. Our mission was to raise awareness of the Audubon Society’s Upper Mississippi [...]]]> Postscript
June 25, 2006
Raleigh, NC

I hope ya’ll have enjoyed following our trip. It’s been a pleasure sharing it with you. Our mission was to raise awareness of the Audubon Society’s Upper Mississippi Campaign, so please visit their website for more details and updates about their organization.

I’ve written a book on the journey and will be releasing early-mid 2008. Part of the proceeds will be donated back to the Audubon Society.

Jess and I paddled over two months in a canoe and didn’t kill each other. That’s a good thing, and next April we’re going to tie the knot and make it official. I’m one lucky, lucky dude to have her in my life.

We made it. I can’t believe this is over.

There are so many emotions and memories going through my head right now I don’t know where to start. The last few days have been some of the best of the trip. Hot to be sure, but great all the same. We [...]]]> July 27, 2005
Morgan City, Louisiana
2,150 miles

We made it. I can’t believe this is over.

There are so many emotions and memories going through my head right now I don’t know where to start. The last few days have been some of the best of the trip. Hot to be sure, but great all the same. We really struggled with the decision to take the Atchafalaya River to the gulf instead of the Mississippi but it worked out great for us. We met far more folks going this way, the barge traffic was minimal, and the river was smaller allowing us to reflect on everything instead of dodging boats all day. Taking the road less traveled was far better for us in retrospect.
Our final day was terrific. To get closer to the gulf, we had to go past the last town (Morgan City) and paddle back about 13 miles. The final day we were paddling through a great bayou as saw plenty of birds, “boneyards” of old boats, a few alligators, and large number of jumping fish that I need to ID sometime soon. Everything around here is made up of marshes with very little dry ground or sandbars. Our campsite last night was a small spit of sandbar maybe 8” above the high water line.

There was a terrific thunderstorm yesterday afternoon that we had to sit out, soaking everything around here. Spending the last night on a wet, soggy, mosquito-infested sandbar didn’t matter though. We were just glad to have made it here without any injuries or major incidents. There’s some lingering soreness, especially in our hands, a little sunburn, but nothing else of any consequence. I’m in the best shape I’ve been in 10 years. Sand and mud is covering everything, including us. We’re a week removed from our last shower, paddling 8-10 hours a day in the Louisiana summer heat. It’s going to take a week of showers to get all the grit and funk off.

Today’s been one of the longest in awhile. We were on the water by 4:30 a.m. to try and make some big miles before dark. Hurricane Emily is blowing out to Mexico what we can tell but we have no idea what’s following her. It’d be nice to have [...]]]> July 25, 2005
Somewhere outside of Morgan City

Today’s been one of the longest in awhile. We were on the water by 4:30 a.m. to try and make some big miles before dark. Hurricane Emily is blowing out to Mexico what we can tell but we have no idea what’s following her. It’d be nice to have better information about the weather but we have what we have.

Decision Time

We finally made it to Vicksburg yesterday. This has been the hardest week of the trip by far. Temperatures have been hitting around 100 degrees. When it gets that hot sometimes my brain feels like it is boiling. We’ve been taking a few hours off every afternoon to hide from [...]]]> July 19, 2005
Vicksburg, Mississippi
1,865 miles

Decision Time

We finally made it to Vicksburg yesterday. This has been the hardest week of the trip by far. Temperatures have been hitting around 100 degrees. When it gets that hot sometimes my brain feels like it is boiling. We’ve been taking a few hours off every afternoon to hide from the heat. I’m just completely smoked right now.

When we started this trip, we planned to make a decision about which path to the sea we’d take by the time we reach Vicksburg. Given a combination of safety, time, scenery, and about ten other inter-related factors, we decided to paddle the Atchafalaya River down the Gulf of Mexico. This will take us into some of the more remote bayou areas we’d miss by taking the Mississippi, have less barge traffic, and give an overall experience more in line with what we’d like to have. Kind of like taking the two-lane blacktop instead of the interstate.

Right now the weather worries have subsided a little and it looks like we’re in the home stretch. I can’t believe how many hurricanes and tropical storms we’ve already had this year. Not to jinx anything, but if the weather holds off we should be done in about 8 days or so.

A huge storm came blowing in just as we pulled up to the confluence of the Yazoo and Mississippi rivers. Downtown Vicksburg is up the Yazoo a ways so we hid the canoe in the bushes and hiked in. This wasn’t the best place to hide the canoe but we planned to pick it back up after going to the post office for our maildrop. That was mistake number one.

The little hike turned out to be a few miles. It was far enough to not want to go back to the canoe, so we just had the clothes on our back and a small bag of personal gear.
We walked downtown to the visitor’s center and asked about motels.

The lady gave us the name of the casino and another “more economical” motel up the street. When I asked about the cheaper place she replied “Well honey, you’ll just have to see it for yourself.” A southern lady never badmouths anything outright and we took a hint. We didn’t have to be talked into an all-you-can-eat buffet. The casino it was.

We’re getting back on the river after spending three days hiding from Hurricane Dennis. A couple of friends that live nearby graciously picked us up and gave us a place to sit out the storm. The Memphis Yacht Club let us store the canoe for free while this thing blew over. [...]]]> July 12, 2005
Memphis, Tennessee
Mile 1,565

We’re getting back on the river after spending three days hiding from Hurricane Dennis. A couple of friends that live nearby graciously picked us up and gave us a place to sit out the storm. The Memphis Yacht Club let us store the canoe for free while this thing blew over. I am constantly humbled by the outpouring of support we’ve been given throughout this journey.

I’m sure we’ve gotten softer, considering we’ve only taken three complete days off the water the previous two months. I’m expect to find more than a few muscles that went unused sitting on the couch and eating copious amounts of food. Time to get back in the canoe and head towards the gulf.

We dropped into the town of Herculaneum, MO yesterday to pick up some water and grab breakfast. Honestly we also wanted to go to the town just because of the name. How can you go wrong with someplace called Herculaneum?

We hid the canoe as best we could then hoofed it into [...]]]> July 1, 2005
Chester, Illinois
1224 miles

We dropped into the town of Herculaneum, MO yesterday to pick up some water and grab breakfast. Honestly we also wanted to go to the town just because of the name. How can you go wrong with someplace called Herculaneum?

We hid the canoe as best we could then hoofed it into town. The beach area looked like the local hangout, with beer cans and exploded firework scattered all over the place.

After passing an old industrial area we arrived at the combined city hall/police/county business office. We asked for directions to the closest breakfast joint and were walking off when the mayor (John Chamis) flagged us down. Not ten minutes later we were being shuttled to a Jack-in-the-Box and brought back for the royal treatment.

When we got back from our breakfast run we were given a copy of the history of the city, t-shirts, pens, and neckerchiefs with the city logo. Just twenty-four hours after being stood up for three interviews in St. Louis I’m sitting in mayor’s chair calling home. The only thing that could have topped that would have been to grab a beer at the Bucket of Blood Saloon. Too bad that place closed in 1850. Great name for a bar though.

Seeing the confluence of North America’s two largest rivers was an incredible sight to see. The silty waters of the Missouri combined with the brown of the Mississippi over the course of a mile. The Ohio River is the next large river the Mississippi takes in, and we’ll reach that in about three days.

I can’t get over the expanse of land that the Mississippi drains, and the amount of water that eventually ends up in its channel. There are no more locks and we are now making about six miles per hour. I think we’ll be able to pull off some of these fifty-mile days without killing ourselves if the river stays like this for a while.

This week has been one amazing day after another. We had mixed emotions when we crossed the Minnesota border into Iowa. We have many great memories of the early stretch of river and are sad to see it go, but excited about what lies ahead. We’re out of Minnesota and are [...]]]> June 17, 2005
Dubuque, Iowa
Mile 770

This week has been one amazing day after another. We had mixed emotions when we crossed the Minnesota border into Iowa. We have many great memories of the early stretch of river and are sad to see it go, but excited about what lies ahead. We’re out of Minnesota and are into the middle stage of the trip.

We pulled into Dubuque yesterday and tied up the canoe at the National Mississippi River Museum & Aquarium. Their volunteer and development coordinator, Trish McDonald, has been kind enough to put us up for the night. Trish has hosted a few other river rats in the past, one of which stayed for a week. After spending just a day with here, it’s easy to see why that paddler found it hard to leave. Trish has been a gracious host.

Right now I’m at her Victorian house overlooking the river. We’ve given interviews to the local press, toured the museum, showered, did laundry, went to a wine tasting, and relaxed in a jacuzzi before going to bed. If every day is like this in Dubuque, I’m staying.

Barges are like huge dinosaurs but are fine if you just give them some space and respect. They’re nothing to contend with compared to the things we’ve seen from the weekend crowds. I know a barge isn’t going to do a donut fifty yards in front of us, pull water skiers through the shipping channel, or pull three kids behind a jet ski while weaving in between boats. Watching that kind of stuff puts me on edge. I had never been around barges before this trip. These things are immense! I picked up a pamphlet from one of the locks with some eye-popping numbers. A fifteen-barge tow like those typically found above St. Louis can carry 22,500 tons of material. The capacity of a tow that size is 787,500 bushels of wheat or about 6,804,000 gallons of fuel. It would take the equivalent of 225 train cars or 870 large semi trucks to equal those numbers. 870 semis bumper to bumper would stretch for about 11.5 miles. I still can’t get over how big those things are, and they’re only going to get bigger.

Steamboats were common on the river back in the mid to late 1800’s. One of the highlights at that time was to go on the “Fashionable Tour.” People would travel by train for forty-eight hours to get from New York to St. Louis. They would then board a steamboat and be in Minneapolis within a week. Four dollars got you a deck pass, but you had to bring your own food, sleep on the deck without bedding, and get off the boat twice a day to bring in cordwood for the boilers. Eight dollars got you the posh dining room, sleeping quarters, and probably a hot toddy to end the day with. The river towns were busy centers of commerce, travel, whisky, and floozies. We are in the two-dollar range for this trip meaning we even have to paddle the boat. Can’t beat the views though.

Dubuque has been exceedingly good us but we have to get back on the river before the weekend madness starts up again. We try to stay as far away from major towns and marinas as we can get on Saturday and Sunday. Things start to get a little hairy when the boaters come out with one hand on the throttle and the other holding a beer.

I can’t get over the changes in the river over these 770 miles. We started off paddling in a creek and are now we have this huge river with barges and locks. Soon we’ll be in St. Louis, past the locks, and into a free-flowing river for over 1,100 miles. We had both high points and low but this trip has surpassed every expectation thus far. I can’t wait to see what the weeks ahead will bring.

We’re taking the day off in Hannibal, MO, at the Bayview Campground. Jess’s folks come down on their Goldwing motorcycles from Ohio for a visit. They pulled a trailer that converted into a camper about the size our apartment. I need to see if that’ll fit into the canoe.

We arrived yesterday [...]]]> June 25, 2005
Hannibal, Missouri
1045 miles

We’re taking the day off in Hannibal, MO, at the Bayview Campground. Jess’s folks come down on their Goldwing motorcycles from Ohio for a visit. They pulled a trailer that converted into a camper about the size our apartment. I need to see if that’ll fit into the canoe.

We arrived yesterday and will be taking off tomorrow morning on the way to St. Louis and beyond. Our host at the campground had arrainged for two TV stations and the local radio affiliate to be at the marina when we pulled in. It’s great to get the word out about the Audubon Society, our trip, and the sponsors that have made this happen. We’ll get the film clips on the website as they become available.

There are about more seven locks to go till we’re in the free-flowing river beyond St. Louis. Our mileage will increase, as will some of the things that can make the Mississippi “interesting’ to a small craft. We’ve got our eyes peeled though and will be keeping a lookout for everything. We’ve been paddling about 40 miles a day the past week even with the locks and expect to canoe about 40-50 miles a day after St. Louis.

The End of the Sweet Tea Drought
I’m from the south, raised in the grand metropolis of Climax, NC. Sweet tea is just a matter of life in the south, as is BBQ. I’m not going to get into the argument on western vs. eastern BBQ, as I think its best to not take contentious religious matters lightly.

From the time I had left NC for the hinterlands of Minnesota, I had not seen or heard about any sweet tea in 47 days. It was a profoundly dark point in my life, and not to be repeated soon if at all possible. That black cloud of despair ended yesterday.
We rode over to Hannibal to take in the sights and grab a bite to eat. We eventually ended up at Bubba’s Catfish House. Looking over the menu, the first things that we’ve looked for haven’t been the entrees, sides, or desserts, but the drink selection. Looking past the array of soft drinks, coffee, domestic and imported beers, we came to the Holy Grail. That simple, glorious, understated line that said “Tea: sweetened or unsweetened.”

The heavens parted and a soft ray of shimmering light shined on that menu. A choir of angels sang the Alleluia Chorus. I’m getting weepy just thinking about it.

We ordered a round of that delicious nectar, then asked them to just leave a pitcher at the table. After almost a month and a half without that delicious liquid, my thirst was finally quenched. The BBQ wasn’t bad either.

Just had a great breakfast at the Black and White Hamburger Shop here in Little Falls. The Black and White is a pretty funky place, serving as a diner, bookstore, and local hang out. It’s got an art deco feel to it that reminds me of some of the places [...]]]> June 1, 2005
Little Falls, Minnesota
Mile 380

Just had a great breakfast at the Black and White Hamburger Shop here in Little Falls. The Black and White is a pretty funky place, serving as a diner, bookstore, and local hang out. It’s got an art deco feel to it that reminds me of some of the places in downtown Asheville, NC. You can tell the owner has really put his heart into the place.

We were craving biscuits in the worst kind of way and they came through in spades—two biscuits, sausage gravy, hash browns, and orange juice. I thought the best course of action would be to guard out booth for the rest of the day. I always think it’s important to cherish the things most valuable to you, and nothing was more precious at that moment then those biscuits. If these guys delivered I’d be calling in for an airdrop every morning.

This week has been amazing—everything from cold rain to bright sunshine and everything in between. The river is constantly changing character. Just a week ago it was less than one hundred feet wide. Now it’s not uncommon for it to be a half-mile across now.

The mosquitoes are out in force. You can hear them getting louder as soon as the sun starts to set. Mosquitoes in these parts are crepuscular, meaning they’re most active at dusk and dawn. During the day they’re not so bad, but they’re a nightmare to deal with right before we go to bed. Once we zip the tent up for the night there’s no coming out until morning.

We’re seeing more man-made development popping up as well. Homes, dams, towns, and factories are becoming regular sights. Two weeks ago we fell asleep to the music of the loons. Last night we dozed off to the lullaby of a riding lawnmower.

The high water is helping us cover our miles a little faster. If the wind’s not in our faces we’ll paddle about four miles per hour at a moderate pace. With a strong headwind we practically stall if not for a furious effort.

Yesterday was supposed to be an easy twenty-five mile day. If things went well we’d even sneak a shower in at Crow Wing State Park. Sounded like a great plan. The first ten miles were cake, but the last fifteen were just a pain in the neck. Were it not for the faster current we’d just be finishing right about now.

Got some sun for the first time in days so things are looking up. Sometimes we get confused when this big, bright, shiny thing pops out of the sky every once in awhile. I now know what Punxsutawney Phil must go though every spring when they drag him out of his hole.