Dreams from the Dorm
When I lived in the Lincoln Tower dorm at Ohio State University on the Olentangy River, I marveled at the fact that it was theoretically possible to put a canoe in there and paddle to New Orleans. One spring, I convinced two friends to borrow an aluminum canoe and paddle down the Olentangy to the Scioto River, and through downtown Columbus. It was a good adventure with some sketchy portages, and urban landscapes. A few days later, we read in the newspaper that a dead body was discovered in the river, and had been there for a week. We must have paddled right past it.
Perhaps the organizers of the Campus to Coast had similar fantasies from their dorm rooms as I had. The course starts on the Red Cedar River on MSU campus and continues 160 miles, all the way to Lake Michigan. The second annual Campus to Coast event was organized by the Michigan State University Outdoors Club.
One of the organizers had something bigger in mind than our little adventure on the Olentangy. Two summers ago, he paddled up the Maumee River of Ohio, portaged into the Mississippi River basin, and paddled on to New Orleans. We paddled with him for a while on the Hugh Heward last year. He assembled a crack team of four enthusiastic paddlers, and plans to break the world record for the downriver run on the Mississippi this May. Their Facebook page is at this link. They will use a Minnesota Four canoe. They will be on the move continuously with one paddler sleeping in shifts for four hours while the other three paddle. They were testing our their system on the Campus to Coast.
The current world record for the Mississippi run was set in 2003 by Bob Bradford and Clark Eid, who paddled 2,348 miles from Lake Itasca, MN to Head of Passes, LA in 18 days, 4 hours, 51 minutes: over 100 miles a day! There is a website with some great pictures here.
Verlen Kruger designed our canoe, the Kruger Cruiser, for the Mississippi world record attempt. Bob and Clark took turns sleeping and paddling in their world record run. We wanted to try to keep it moving continuously in the Campus to Coast, taking turns sleeping while the other paddles through the night. We hope to use the same method in the MR340 race this summer on the Missouri River. There were three Kruger Cruisers in the Campus to Coast this year.
The Route
The race starts at "The Rock" on MSU campus on the Red Cedar River, 8 AM Friday. Within 1/4 mile there is a small dam that can be run or portaged, then 5.5 miles on the Red Cedar with a few log jams, to the junction with the Grand River. The first portage is in Lansing at mile 7. There is a free run of river until the dam at Grand Ledge at mile 21. Again the river runs free to the town of Portland. Shortly after passing the statue of Verlen Kruger, comes a series of four portages between miles 49 and 61: Portland Dam, Webber Dam, Wagar Dam, and Lyons Dam. The third of these, Wagar dam, can be run, although there is a big standing wave and conditions vary considerably with water level.Most of the elevation drop is over after Lyons, and the river flattens out. The step at Webber Dam stands out in the elevation profile below at 55 miles.
After Lyons, the river runs free to 6th St Dam in the city of Grand Rapids at mile 114. Below this dam is a series of five drops that can be run, lined, or portaged, depending on the conditions. The organizers wisely decided to change the finish from the beach at Grand Haven to downtown Grand Haven because of ice on Lake Michigan. The cutoff time of 6 PM on Sunday meant that teams would have to paddle more than 50 miles a day.
The river level was gradually declining from just below flood stage. The current ran at about 2 - 2.5 mph.
The Plan
Our plan was to paddle hard all day Friday in order to run Wager dam and finish the portage at Lyons before dark. Then we would have a free run of river through the night. We would paddle through the night, taking turns with 20 minute naps in the boat as needed. We would portage Grand Rapids in the morning, and wrap things up before the rain was forecast to hit on Saturday evening and into Sunday.The Start
Jack and Mark would paddle the blue Kruger Cruiser, "Big Medicine".
Mike D and Stacey paddled a Kruger Cruiser, which made three with ours.
The other Kruger paddlers, Ben, Mike S and Sandy paddled solo in Sea Winds.
Many of the collegiate teams were in rented boats. They would need grit, resourcefulness, and determination to cover the distance by Sunday evening.
Here is a State News article and video from the start
The Red Cedar
We were advised by others that the dam 1/4 mile from the start was runnable, so we did not use our portage wheels. We dragged our canoe across the grass and were first in the water. We briefly lead the race until we saw the drop at the old dam. George was right behind us, advising us on what line to take, so we decided to let him go first. He made it down the drop OK, so we followed. The bow dove into the standing wave and Lauren got a wet lap. It was just above freezing, but fortunately Lauren was wearing her rain pants, and it was quickly warming up to be a nice day.
Photo by Tim Potter
Shortly after the drop, Mike and Stacey passed us pulling hard. We dragged over two log jams on the Red Cedar.
We paddled with Mike S and Ben through the logs of the Red Cedar.
The Grand River
At the junction with the Grand River, Mark and Jack caught up, and we all paddled together for a moment.
The first portage was in Lansing. Ben took these pictures while he waited for us to wrestle our heavily-laden boat through the portage. We brought enough water so that we would not have to stop (20 L), and camping gear because of the potential for hypothermia with the cold water and early season.
Sometimes we wished we had brought less stuff.
We came into the town of Grand Ledge around 11:30 AM, at mile 20.
Grand Ledge
A man rappelling from the cliffs told us that the other Cruisers were only five or ten minutes ahead, although we had not seen them in hours.
We portaged the dam, again wishing we had brought less stuff.
After the portage, Tom caught up with us. It was nice to have someone to talk to, as we had not seen anyone in a few hours. He was paddling an Epic 18 racing kayak with a single-blade canoe paddle. I had never seen anyone do that before, but it seemed to work quite well. Tom and his wife Connie have raced canoes with the Michigan Canoe Racing Association for many years.
After chatting for a while, Tom took off to catch Mark and Jack. Tom was only paddling for the afternoon, and would take out at Portland.
A Surprise on a Bridge
In the distance, we saw two people standing on a bridge. They started waving as we approached. Their figures looked familiar, and they acted like they knew us. It was Lauren's parents! They were passing through on their way to Flint, and stopped by to see us. Dad Fry said that Mark and Jack were only 15 minutes ahead.
Portland
Tom wished us good luck as we passed the Verlen Kruger Memorial statue in Portland, at mile 45.
The current is fast and exciting through downtown Portland, but soon we were in the slack water of the Portland Municipal Dam; the first of the four portages that we hoped to complete before dark.
We saw a cut through a bend in the river, and decided to gamble that it would go through. It was time to spice things up a little. We had to drag across a gravel dike. For a while it seemed that we would end up in someone's back yard, but eventually we made it back to the river.
Three Dam Portages and a Dam Good Run
The wind had picked up, and we had to fight our way against it to the Portland Dam portage at mile 49.
It was getting to be dinner time. It might look like catfood, but a tin of chicken salad really hits the spot after paddling all day.
Waves crashed onto the logs piled up at the portage, making for an awkward takeout. We could hear the wind whipping in the treetops; we were fortunate to be mostly sheltered on the river.
We slid the heavy canoe down the steep grassy slope on the backside of the dam. It was all we could do to keep it from sliding out of control.
A woman and her son were fishing at the bottom of the dam. They told us that Mark and Jack were 20 minutes ahead, and Mike and Stacey were just ahead of them. Those four have a strong competitive spirit, and we knew that a race was on between them.
We attached the spray cover and put on our rain pants in preparation for running the Wagar Dam drop, and also for colder temperatures to come after dark.
Mike and Stacey posted a video from their run of Wagar Dam from the weekend before the start, which can be seen here. They hit a line between the island and the standing wave, and made it look easy. However, the shape of it varies with the water level, and the water had been dropping all week. The water was still much higher than in the Google map image below.
We headed all the way to the right bank on the approach. I stood up a few times in the canoe in an effort to see what was over the drop. We knew from reports that there were no rocks or major obstacles. The current was fast, and when we could finally see what was there, we were too far right. We had the rudder up and both used draw strokes on the left to ferry to the left. It was too late, we were getting sucked into the big hole in the water. All we could do was straighten it out and head directly into the big haystack of a standing wave. The canoe plunged into it. Lauren was submerged to her waist. The wave curled around her and ran down the spray cover all the way to the stern, and dumped into my lap. I did not zip up my spray cover because a wave would never come that far back, or so I thought.
In the end, buoyancy won out over momentum. The canoe rose to the surface and the water ran off the spray cover. We paddled on with less than an inch of bilge water.
Shortly after, we arrived at Lyons Dam, mile 61. We were excited to meet our goal of making it there before dark. We had made note of the short portage route option in our Google Map research, but that involved lifting the canoe over a guardrail. After wrestling with the heavy, loaded canoe in the previous portages, we decided we would rather wheel it further than lift it. Jack had told us of a longer route through town, but we were not sure where the put-in was.
We wheeled the canoe to the main road, across, and into a parking lot. We were not sure of the way and did not want to wander around exploring. Two women walked past on an evening stroll. Most people don't think in terms of portage routes, so it's not always easy to get good information. Lauren brought up our location on Google Maps on the iphone, and asked them to confirm the route. They were able to confirm that we could get to the river by the route we suggested. We should go down the main street and take a left by the fire station.
When we took a left, we walked right into a domestic altercation. A drunk guy was yelling slurred, unintelligible words at a woman, who was fleeing to a pickup truck with a dog. Our path went right between them, and in the way of her escape route with the pickup truck. We hesitated for a moment. The drunk guy said some slurred words to us that we did not understand. The woman and dog looked at us from the idling pickup truck, not moving. We decided that she would wait for us, and kept walking. Lauren wondered if we should offer to help her. I was not sure what we could do. She was in the pickup truck and could drive away if she wanted to.
The blank area on the Google map turned out to be a park with an open gate: what luck!
A Night of Frogs, Beavers, and Flying Fish
We made it through Lyons portage before dark. Now we had 53 miles of free-running river to go before 6th Street Dam in Grand Rapids. Our plan was to take turns napping and paddling through the night. It should be morning by the time we arrive in Grand Rapids.We launched as the sun was setting. Shortly after, we heard the Mississippi River team coming up behind us in their Minnesota Four canoe.
Three were paddling and one was sleeping under the spray cover. Two had already taken 4hr shifts sleeping. Competitive spirit is not my strong suit. Even so, the thought occurred to me that maybe we should pick it up and try to challenge them for third place. The thought only lasted for a few seconds. I had been paddling for twelve hours. I was feeling sore and tired, while they had fresh paddlers. We wished them good luck.
The sun set. The moon was nearly full. The river was wide and flat. It was easy to forget how fast the water was moving. The moon provided enough light to see, but there were persistent dark shadows that could conceal logjams or other obstacles.
We had a good headlight, but I wished it was a little brighter to penetrate the distant shadows. As we approached bridges, we turned the canoe left and right to scan the headlight across the pilings in an effort to reveal logjams blocking the openings between.
We had a perfectly good tent and sleeping bags that we had dragged across numerous portages. I looked longingly at nice, flat river banks as they drifted past.
I suggested that we should continue paddling until midnight. Then, we would start alternating 20 minute naps while the other paddles, and paddle together for 20 minutes to finish out the hour.
On the Au Sable run, I paddled strong until 2 AM, but that race started at 4 PM. By the time 10 PM came around, we had been paddling 14 hours. I was ready for bed. I suggested that we start the 20 minute naps at 10 PM rather than waiting for midnight. Lauren did not object. We played rock, paper, scissor to see who would nap first. Lauren won two out of three.
A 20 minute nap is much better than nothing. I slid down in my seat, put my orange box under my butt, and rested my shoulders and back on the canoe seat. I pulled up my PFD to serve as a pillow against the coaming. I pulled a space blanket over my face to keep the cold air off my face. When it was Lauren's turn to nap, she scootched her seat forward and leaned back. The aluminum rib under the spray cover made a nice curve under her neck like a pillow. It's a wonder how sleep can come so easily when one is so completely tired.
Choruses of frogs sang in the woods. Spring peepers and chorus frogs sang in the evening and early night. Later, there were cricket frogs and another that I could not identify. Still later, the frogs went to bed. Beavers slapped their tails on the water as we passed. A large flash of silver jumped several feet high in front of us landing with a noise almost as powerful as the slap of a beaver tail (a salmon? a steelhead?).
When my watch alarm went off, I climbed out of unconsciousness, picked up the paddle, and started stroking in a stiff, gimpy manner.
The hours between 2 AM and 6 AM should not exist, or at least a person should not be conscious to witness them. By 2 AM I felt that we had been paddling all night. It was hard to face the fact that four hours remained before the hope of daylight. Sometimes 20 minutes can seem like a long time. It was very difficult to stay awake for my 40 minute paddling shifts between naps.
By the time 4:30 AM came along, I gave in. I suggested that we either pull off to cook a hot meal or pull off and sleep in the boat for an hour. I think Lauren would have been willing to go on, but she did not object. She chose sleep over the hot meal. She did force herself to eat a pepperoni sandwich before drifting off, though, to help restore her muscles during sleep. We tied up to a branch, stretched out, and got comfortable for a whole hour's sleep. Lauren removed the front seat and stretched out in the bottom of the canoe.
My watch alarm went off and we stuffed our space blankets. Three 20 minute sleep sessions do not equal an hour; the hour is far superior.
There was a hint of a glow in the sky. Tantalizing, but not brightening at any appreciable pace. One bird sang. I was reasonably warm except for my feet, which were damp and cold inside the neoprene boots. I thought of the Chasing Shackleton expedition and their debilitating issues with "trench foot".
Dawn of a New Day
Finally, morning came for real. We put away the headlamps and headlight and felt warmer immediately, even though it was not really any warmer.
Soon, we spotted a paddler ahead. We did not know who may have passed us when we were pulled off sleeping. As we got closer, it appeared to be a solo paddler in a Kruger Sea Wind. It must have been either Ben or Mike S. The boat seemed to be drifting aimlessly, turning to the left and to the right. We supposed he was waiting for us to catch up so that we could have a chat. I called "Good morning" when we were close. The paddler started awake from a nap. It was Mike S.
We were happy to see each other. We had not seen anyone since the Mississippi River team passed us ten hours before. Mike was the lead solo boat in the race. It is much more difficult to keep moving in a solo boat because there is no one to paddle while you nap, eat, drink, change your clothes, etc. Mike told us how he passed the night with brief naps, leaning back to close his eyes from time to time. After a while, he wished us good luck, and leaned back for another brief nap.
Grand Rapids
Our spirits improved with the daylight. We were on the final approach to Grand Rapids.We saw some people waving at us from a boat launch. It was Aunt Marlene and Uncle Larry! They live near Grand Rapids and had come out to see us. Marlene took a few pictures:
We left the trees behind and entered an urban landscape.
Concrete ramps and sidewalks through Canal Street Park made for easy wheeling around 6th Street Dam. Ben posted this view of the portage on Facebook. I think he must have rented a helicopter; my Google Maps images don't look that good.
The put-in below the dam was a little dicey. There was a sea of whitewater interspersed with bridge pilings, anchored fishing boats, and criss-crossed with fishing lines. There was a series of five mini-dams that we heard were runnable, but we could not really see them. People had told us that the drop on campus and Wagar dam were runnable, but those had been a little sketchy. We were becoming wary of advice from seasoned Grand River paddlers. We considered taking the longer portage through downtown, but we were not sure where the alternate put-in was.
Ben took this picture of the put-in below 6th Streed Dam the weekend before the race:
The boat ramp was crowded with fishermen, and their lines were everywhere. We had to push aside a salmon on a stringer to put the boat in the water. We could not point the boat out because the current would grab it. The whitewater from the dam was pushing up against some rocks on the downstream side of the launch. We decided to point the canoe upstream, parallel to shore and get in. We hoped the fishermen would part their lines so that we could pass. If anything went wrong, we would have a big audience.
We paddled forward from the eddy into the whitewater. The current slid under us and did not grab on; so far so good. We made long arc to clear the rocks, and turned downstream. I was happy the launch went smoothly but had to stay focused to avoid being swept into the bridge pilings. We had to cross over to the other side before the first drop. We heard that it was best to run them on river-right.
I stood in the canoe as we approached the first drop. I could not really see what was on the other side; just a few whitecaps flickering above the edge. By the time we saw, it was too late to do anything. There was a big hole in the water and a standing wave. I thought it would be Wagar Dam all over again. But the hole and wave were more closely spaced than at Wagar. The canoe bridged the gap rather than plunging into the wave. We got by with only a few splashes. The subsequent drops were very small, and we could pass around them on flat water very close to the right bank.
The home stretch
A big river boat was hauled out on the bank. This gave us hope that we were nearing big, navigable waterways.
It turned out that 2 PM was a good estimate. It was a heavy, soaking rain. The forecast was for rain all night Saturday and through the day on Sunday, so I did not expect it to stop. It was reasonably warm, probably around 60, but I was glad that we would not have to pass another night on the river after getting soaked.
Lauren kept pointing out the lightning. It was far enough away that it did not seem threatening. We steered close to the shore in hopes of getting some protection from the trees. I have heard that there is a "cone of protection" around tall objects, having a radius of ten times the height of the object. However, it's hard to know how much confidence to place in information such as that. Any studies of lightning strikes must have a small sample size, and little statistical significance.
Imagine my surprise when the clouds thinned, and the rain stopped after an hour or so. I had thought it would rain for the rest of the weekend.
When we came to the cut, we knew we were getting close. The river was beginning to feel more like a delta. The river split into channels between big, grassy islands.
Fortunately, Jack and Mark came to find us. We were about to paddle past the finish at the municipal dock, when we saw the Minnesota Four canoe on the bank, and heard Jack yelling at us.
Heaven
Sometimes the simple things in life can be very satisfying. To lean back on something, to not paddle, to have a beer and a hot meal, to close your eyes.
After an hour or so of pure enjoyment, we returned to the Harbor Island boat launch to see Mike S arrive. He was the first solo boat. He was very happy to see everyone, and to tell us his tales of the journey.
Stats from the GPS
We covered 154 miles in 29 hr 34 min moving time, 1hr 30 min stopped time, plus the hour that we stopped to sleep with the GPS turned off (32 hours total). Our speed was 5.2 mph moving avg, 5.0 mph overall avg, and 10.2 mph maximum.
Tall tales at the boat launch
After some blissful sleep, we returned to the boat launch Sunday morning to await the morning arrivals. Fog had rolled in off the frozen lake.
Mike D and Stacey had finished first overall. They had an amazing race against Mark and Jack. The two teams had pushed each other through the night, through the rapids below 6th Street Dam at 3:30 AM, and on into Saturday morning to finish around 10:30 AM. They gained five hours on us through the night even though we only stopped for an hour.
Mike D told us how he could cook a lasagna dinner in the stern seat of a Kruger Cruiser while paddling with one hand. That really sounded like a useful skill. I could have used a lasagna dinner at 4:30 AM on Saturday morning, just before we pulled off to sleep. Earlier, I had heard Mark P saying how he could paddle while sleeping.
Maybe, with some practice, I could learn how to cook a lasagna dinner, while sleeping, and paddling with one hand. Imagine the places I could go.
Sunday morning finishers
Great write up guys, I think I even learned some things from it even after doing it 3 times now! Glad you both had a good time.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Clinton! We're excited to track your Mississippi River challenge and hear stories from you adventure!
DeleteSaweeeet! You guys are hardcore! ;)
ReplyDeleteNeat to be able to re-experience the race through your pictures ;)
ReplyDeleteGreat report! Hope to see you at Desoto next spring.
ReplyDelete