Dec 30 2008
Brainerd to Crow Wing State Park, MN
October 9-12, 2008
In the week before reaching Brainerd, it was starting to get pretty cold at night. There’s an entry in my journal that reads “That night I pile on the clothes-socks, long underwear, t-shirt, 2 thermal shirts, fleece top and a fleece vest, gloves and a cap. I stay barely warm enough. In the morning there is frost covering everything. It was 23 degrees F. Brrr.” I’m starting to think that I won’t get far enough south before the seriously cold weather hits. I start to make a list in my head of things that would make the trip more enjoyable. Things I could purchase in Brainerd. I think back to my time when I was a volunteer on an organic dairy farm and we would spend hours outside in all kinds of weather. Great friend and super outdoor woman Natalie once told me “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just poorly prepared people.” I come up with:
Fleece sleeping bag liner
All weather lined bibs and outer jacket
Boating socks to wear under my mud boots
Waterproof gloves to wear while doing dishes, paddling in rain.
Full fleece headcover
In Brainerd, Erin kindly takes me to Mills Fleet Farm Store, one of the most amazing stores I have ever seen. They have everything an outdoors person would need, and I get most of it on clearance. Now I feel I stand my best chance of making my time on the river more enjoyable.
I plan on leaving Brainerd on Sunday, but winds of 20-30 mph leave me stranded. On Monday, Columbus day, after a rainy morning the day clears, as promised. In the interest of honesty, I’ll put in my journal entry for the day. It reads:
“Brainerd has been a real low point for me. With all of the cold and rain I am really beginning to wonder if my decision to start so late is fatal and that I’ll never get to comfortable temps again. Today the high of 55 F occurred at 8 am and the temps have been dropping. Tonight will be very cold. And now Erin has me worried about Lyme’s disease from the ticks that were in my foot. Maybe I’ll get tested in Minneapolis. Anyway, all of this has me feeling so low. I worked so hard to make all of this happen. Did I really shoot myself in the foot by starting too late? I decide that it’s time to start enjoying myself no matter what. If I’m only on the river 2 more weeks, I want to have 2 fun weeks.”
I put on my new bibs and coat, and take off. They are so warm, and the dwindling remainder of drizzle beads nicely on my new, red coat. It feels good to be on the river after 4 days off. The gray sky makes the multi-colored leaves look even more vibrant. Minnesota really is a beautiful state, and in the fall it is nothing short of spectacular. There are so many trees, so much beautiful hardwood, such varied colors of leaves. There are so many birds that I see eagles daily, and waterfowls are my constant companions, although they take off as soon as they see me. The eagles do this with such frequency that as soon as they see me they fly downstream, always downstream, and I begin to think of them as my spirit protector, leading me safely down the river. On some small level I begin to understand why natives thought of the animals as spirits. The constant interactions and ways in which our daily lives are intertwined is incredible.
As I begin paddling 10-20 mph winds begin to hit me, and I dig in to counter them. They eventually die down, and as I near Crow Wing State Park patches of blue sky begin to appear, soon followed by a full bore blue sky and dazzling array of sunshine. The river runs straight through the center of the state park, and the park is beautiful. There are workers in yellow hats tending to a walking path, and soon I see a sign that says “canoe campsite 1 mile”. Soon another appears that reads “canoe campsite –>”, and finally one, complete with reflectors announcing the actual campsite. Man, if only all of these campsites were so well marked. There is a large pebble bank to beach the canoe on. The campsite itself is on a vast, splendid grassy area, and I stretch out on it luxuriously, my back singing in joy at the support the ground offers.
I set up camp and begin to explore the park. There are hiking paths, and brilliantly a cabin near the campsites that is a storm shelter, filled with picnic tables. Quickly, all too quickly, the sun descends, and I eat by the warmth of my fire. The evening is stunning. The bright moonlight illuminates everything, and I cast a moon shadow as I enjoy the Earth’s spectacular satellite. Back at the fire I’m listening to National Public Radio. I find that all of this time alone has made my mind calmer, but also a little understimulated and dull, so I take to listening to NPR for a few hours each day to keep my synapses humming. I dread putting out the fire, but find that my new outerwear keeps me warm as I sit and journal in my tent. I turn on my phone and text Erin to let her know I’m okay, and also text my family. Since Iron Bridge Landing I have had cell phone service most nights with which to text my whereabouts. I leave the phone off during the days, and only turn it on at night for a couple of texts, conserving battery charge. Whenever I reach a town I recharge, at a coffee shop or wherever I can.
I get up at 5 am and put on my new warm clothes. Despite the cold last night, my new fleece liner had me toasty warm. The same goes for my outerwear this morning. There is a layer of frost and ice over everything. You know how picnic table are never on level ground? As I set my aluminum plate down on the ice covered picnic table top, the plate slides to the other side. It is this singular moment that makes me realize it will soon be time to stop for the winter. I desperately want to spend another day exploring this park, it is so beautiful. Stopping for the winter and picking up again during the summer would give me the opportunity to explore and enjoy more. The sun rises, and soon I am back on the river, ready for the next stretch.