On the River - Day One, May 13

Seventeen miles on the first day. It may not sound like much, until I you learn that I only got to launch at 4:35 in the afternoon (I have a witness, Brian Glader from Midwest Mountaineering was there to help me on my way), I battled a 20 mph headwind most of the way, and I still managed to set up camp just after 9 tonight. I'm hoping to average just over 20 miles per day - it bodes well for the future.

When Christine, my wife, asked me during our first 'river' cell phone call what my introduction to the Mississippi was like, I said, "magic!" It may not be grammatically correct, but that's exactly how I felt. Very rarely in life does the reality look or feel like the dream. From the very first time I dipped my paddle into the surging green water on Sunday afternoon, I felt such a powerful sense of deja vu that I could almost believe I've been here before.

But before I tell you about my first few hours on the river, I have to tell you about the good people at Midwest Mountaineering in Minneapolis. I've never been to the Twin Cities before, and I don't know a soul there. I was very much in need of a place where I could have equipment shipped to, and where I could stage all my gear and supplies before my trip started. I also knew I'd need some help with the logistics on that side. Landis Arnold from Wildwasser Sports, who is supplying my Prijon Kodiak kayak and all my paddling gear, offered to approach Andy Knapp at Midwest on my behalf. Andy didn't hesitate to offer me all the help I needed, including having my 63 lb kayak shipped to their store. He also agreed that I could hang around the store on Saturday to meet with some of his customers, and local media and PR folks. So I had a 'home' in Minneapolis for a day.

And what a home it turned out to be. When I showed up at their door at about noon on Saturday, Rudy, the manager on duty, had all my packages lined up and ready to go, and my kayak was waiting in their back lot. He told me make myself at home, ask for whatever help I needed (turns out he really meant it), and gave me free run of the store. I had brought along a few cases of Elliott's Amazing Juices (thanks Elliott!) for use by the store staff and customers, but that doesn't come even close to being a proper thank you. And that's not all.

Today (Sunday), Rudy relieved one of his staff, Brian Glader, from his normal duties take me to Pike Island in Fort Snelling Park with my boat and all my stuff, and see me on my way. Brian not only dropped me off at my starting point; he spent more than 4 hours with me, helping me get all my gear organized and packed. He also helped me install the rudder cables and control cord, and everything else he could think of to do. I had just met Brian today just before noon; yet we parted like old friends. What a guy!

To Rudy, Brian, Andy, and all the other folks I met at Midwest Mountaineering on the weekend: You are good people.

Back to the river.

I launched from Pike Island, five miles upriver from downtown St. Paul. As mentioned above, I got off to a very late start, because it took more than three hours to get everything ready to go, the boat loaded and the rudder cables installed. Some of the equipment were shipped directly from the suppliers to Midwest, which meant that some things were brand new to me. This also complicated the sorting and loading process, and slowed me down even more. But sometimes, things turn out for the better, even if they don't work out as planned.

All day long there was a mighty strong wind blowing from the southwest, almost straight up the river for most of my route for today. It was reaching 20 mph and more at times - not the kind of thing I needed on my first day. Luckily for me, by the time I was ready to launch in the late afternoon, the wind had eased up considerably, to a more manageable eight to ten mph. And the day was really hot and muggy - I was working up a good sweat getting my boat and gear ready. After about 40 minutes on the water, it started cooling off quite rapidly.

Getting out on the Mississippi for the first time felt like meeting an old friend again after many years. But if the river welcomed me like a friend, it also commanded my respect from the very first second. The way it gripped my kayak and swept it into its powerful current left no doubt about who is in charge. I immediately realized two things: I'll have to work with this river for every one of its 2,000 miles, and I'll have to be fully alert for every second of my journey. But I also knew right away that I can do it; the old friend will be there too for my journey. It feels good to be here.

I am pleasantly surprised at how scenic this part of the river is. For a river that is not officially designated a wild river, it sure as heck has a lot of wilderness. The five mile stretch from Pike Island to St. Paul cuts through a state park, and the cottonwoods and most other trees are already wearing their green summer foliage. I was struck by the absence of suburban sprawl along the river banks above St. Paul. Cruising past downtown St. Paul in my kayak was great, albeit a little surreal. The tall buildings and revetments blocked the wind, so I was able let go of the paddle for a few minutes and take some interesting photos of the city from a water level perspective. As I cleared the city, I came eye-to-eye with the first river barges of my journey. Fortunately these were all moored. That's the other good thing that came from my unplanned late start: barge traffic and power boat traffic had slowed down to the point that I effectively had that part of the river to myself for 17 miles. I saw two power boats in the first 30 minutes or so, but that was it. That meant one less variable to deal with on the first day.

I had quite a few new things to deal with today: a brand new kayak, new paddle and different spray skirt. And the river, of course.

In the spirit of limiting the variables, I opted not to use my rudder today. I don't usually use a kayak with a rudder, and the cables and deployment cords need a bit more adjustment. I'll do that before I take off in the morning.

The ten miles downstream from St. Paul is very industrial, but surprisingly clean. I realize that all is not visible to the naked eye of a meandering kayaker, but still. I definitely expected both the water and surrounding landscape to be visibly polluted. But no, the water looks and smells clean, there appears to be no shortage of fish or people fishing from the banks, and the bird life is quite impressive. In the twelve miles downstream from the start of St. Paul's industrial area to my campsite for tonight, I spotted two bald eagles, a redtail hawk, at least a dozen turkey vultures, and various shore birds. And I saw most of these within site of active industrial operations.

The (very) first impression is of a river that is being worked hard, but at the same time cared for really well. Like a thoroughbred race horse, in a way.

I'm camping on an my very own midstream island tonight. The beach is to steep to drag my (too) heavy kayak all the way up to my camp site, so I had to unload everything first and then drag the boat up on the beach as I could. Not too many mosquitoes about yet, but that will no doubt change soon. The evening is nice and warm - I won't need to set up my tent. I'll just sleep under the stars.

As for the strange incident on my flight to Minneapolis: I'm afraid I can't post that on my blog. This is after all a 'family' blog. You'll have to wait for the book to find out what happened. All I can say is that it was very funny, and shall we say, somewhat unusual.