Canoeing the Mississippi

153 river miles from the headwaters.

Greetings from Grand Rapids MN, birthplace of Judy Garland. Grand Rapids is a beautiful community on the banks of the Mississippi river, and I have enjoyed a few days of rest and hot showers as their guest. Erin came up from Minneapolis and spent two days enjoying this charming community with me. As we walked along the river last night we saw a metal plaque in the ground that informed us that Grand Rapids was 153 river miles from the headwaters. From here the river quits moving east for a while and turns more southerly, albeit a bit westerly as it makes its way down to St. Cloud.

After Bemidji the lakes were beautiful and made for interesting paddling conditions. Depending on the wind, the lakes could be like glass, or like the shores of the ocean paddling against the waves. Cass was calm for me, but when I got to the biggie, lake Winnebegoshish, I had to wait a day for the constant 30mph winds to die down. Lake Winnie is over ten miles wide, and I had to skirt her around the southern shore, at least doubling the trip. With the wind and wakes, it’s not safe to go straight across. As one local informed me, “We have lost enough canoers to lake Winnie.”

After Winnie as I approached Leech Lake River I suddenly was surprised to see a canoe behind me, powered by Ken and Robert. They announced to me proudly that they were headed to New Orleans, so we hooked up for a bit and talked. They were very nice and amazing paddlers, from Austin Texas. Strong and experienced, they were only six days out of lake Itasca. They are doing their paddle in conjunction with a school whose students are following them as a geography project. Their equipment was really impressive, as was their skill. They let me try their awesome paddles, for which they gave credit to much of their speed. The paddles were light and easy to use. It was fun to see someone else doing this crazy thing.

Schoolcraft State Park was beautiful, and even has two campsites on the river for canoes. I spent two nights here avoiding thunderstorms. I met another camper named Steve who took me into town for a nice greasy breakfast that was utterly delicious. Steve was very nice and we had dinner together the next two nights.

At Pokegamma dam I stayed at the Army Corps of Engineers campsite which keeps two campsites for canoes, and lots of hot water for showers. At the dam Minnesota Power and Light makes you the most incredible offer, one that I could not refuse. They offer to, free of charge, send a taxi with a canoe trailer to portage you 3.5 miles past the two dams to Grand Rapids. It’s an all or nothing deal, you either go from here past two dams, or if you portage one dam you must do both, and they remind you that this includes carrying your canoe 1/2 mile on city streets. I could not pass up this offer, and called the cab with the free phone that they provide. Thank you MN Power and Light.

The taxi driver told me that the number of canoes sadly diminishes each year, and she guessed that she’s taxied ten or so canoes this year. Her cab partner portaged Ken and Robert.

Today is Sunday, and Erin goes back to Minneapolis, while I continue on. There is a bit of a sparse section up ahead, so it may be a while until my next post. Wishing you well until then. Happy paddling!

The first city on the Mississippi

The long shadows of the late day sun were starting to be cast as I slowly paddled into Lake Irving on my way to Lake Bemidji on Thursday, September 11. This is the first city on the Mississippi river from the headwaters in Lake Itasca, a picturesque, cultured spot with friendly, kind folks to welcome a waterlogged rat off the river. You have to love a place where the hotel worker doesn’t even blink an eye when you ask whether you can leave your canoe on the beach. Yesterday Cindy at the ‘Visit Bemidji’ office in the Tourist Information Center showed me around town and agreed to be the first video host of the trip. Cindy and her husband are avid canoeists and every year take a group of young women from Lake Itasca to Coffee Pot Landing to give them a taste of the river’s beginnings. They have canoed a large section of the Mississippi river together so Cindy admittedly had a warm spot in her heart for the trip and canoeists in general. She asked me if I got lost in the bogs yet, and when I sheepishly admitted to spending my second day out making no progress because of them she said “Oh good, so you’ve had the full experience then.”

For someone who grew up on the relatively well developed banks of the river down by Saint Louis the upper river was quite a learning experience. For starters the river is very low, and as I passed the water gauges they consistently read half of what the bottom level of the low water mark should be, which made paddling and navigation challenging. From Lake Itasca to a point 15 river miles outside of Bemidji the river is considered “wild” by the Mississippi River Headwaters Association, and at the Iron Bridge Landing becomes the “scenic” section of the river.

Many of the first days were spent in the wetlands, where the river meanders back and forth for miles in the marshy land between the solid ground of the pines off in the distance. The wetlands were teeming with life.
The waterfowl was abundant, and there were also otters, beavers (oh so many devious beavers) and deer. Over the miles and hours I eventually figured out how to read the wetlands, and became more comfortable within them. The tall grass and wild rice was four to six feet tall and obstructed the view, and the marshy ground provided no good way to pull off. When I finally learned that the tall flat grass marked the edge of the channel, but that the wild rice could grow right in the center of it things became easier, as I just learned to ignore the wild rice. However, a good compass and map doesn’t hurt either, plus always check the reeds in the channel to see that the river is flowing downstream. At the end of the day there were scoopfuls of wild rice in the canoe. Too bad there wasn’t time to prepare it, delicious as it looked. Craig from Camp Itasca campgrounds said that in the spring the channel is more obvious, as the vegetation dies over the winter and the river is deeper.

(A huge debt of thanks goes to Craig and his wife Rosanne. Craig called my girlfriend Erin and my family to tell them that I would be out of communication for seven days more as I paddled the sparsely inhabited section of the river. I rested easier knowing that they weren’t worried.)

The beavers, oh those crazy beavers, would build dams right across the river. Beside having to pull the canoe over them, it obstructed the flow of the river. There was also a day when I had to walk the canoe three miles over rocks, sandbars and fallen trees. I felt sure that I had to be off the river and on a side creek, it was that low. However, when I got to a bridge and walked up to the road, sure enough it said Mississippi river. Wow!

Kudos and thanks to the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources for providing beautiful camp sites on the river, some canoe in only. They were great and the wooden shelter provided me protection from two inches of rain during thunderstorms Wednesday night (and thank you NOAA weather radio for the heads up). The nights were cold, with lows around 35F, but the sleeping bag was warm. After Iron Bridge Township Bridge there were houses and farms, and shortly after seeing my first house I was serenaded to Stevie Wonder’s “My Cheri Amour” (does anything denote civilization like Stevie Wonder?).

On my third day out I was surprised to see a canoe at the Gulsvig Landing canoe access, and soon there were smiling faces all around. Steve and Glen are trying to canoe to Minneapolis also, and we laughed at how difficult the wetlands were. They had seen my poor stranded canoe the day before and had wondered where I spent the night. They were pushing on as I was spending a last night at Camp Itasca before heading to Coffee Pot Landing, and we had a warm farewell, each expressing the desire to meet later on the way. Two mornings later at Coffee Pot I met a man at the hand water pump cleaning up. After a ‘good morning’ he says to me “What’s your name?” When I told him he said “I’m Tim, Glen’s brother. He told me about you.” Tim had come to portage some of their gear while they navigated the wetlands and was to meet them last night. However, he had gotten lost on the small roads and they weren’t at the bridge when he arrived. I looked concerned and said “They had their tents and sleeping bags right?” “Tent yes, sleeping bags no” was his reply. That was sad news, as the first thing they had said to me at Gulsvig was that they had froze the night before, and that was with their sleeping bags. I shuddered in sympathy at the thought of the miserable night they must have spent in the wetlands. Someday I hope to hear the story of what happened.

And so I will end this post. Tomorrow I will push on past Lake Bemidji and on to the northern most point of the Mississippi river. Wishing you happy travels from the first city on the Mississippi river.

On September 1, 2008, Karl set off at the headwaters of the Mississippi River:

Accompanied by fearless adventurer seven-year-old Alex (for the first few miles, at least), Karl set off in the ankle-deep waters of the Mighty Mississippi!