We were not sure that we wanted to take a precious week of vacation to leave Michigan in July in exchange for the heat and humidity of Missouri. However, we were in such a state of excitement after returning home from the Everglades Challenge in March that we took the plunge and registered for the MR340 on one winter night of internet surfing. The MR340 is perhaps the biggest long-distance paddling race around: 300 boats and 600 participants, so it was on our bucket list. We knew that there would be a big gathering of Krugerheads there this year, so if there was ever a year to do it, this was it.
Our friend Jack had done it twice before, and returned with two third-place trophies and stories of a grueling ordeal: 50 hours of nonstop paddling, triple-digit temperatures, etc. Going 50 hours without sleep is not something I can do, so we had to formulate a strategy that would work for us. This was our opportunity to try using the Kruger Cruiser for what it was designed; a big river race where you go nonstop and take turns sleeping in the boat. Most teams in the MR340 use a shore support team and get resupplied at eight checkpoints along the way. Our plan was to carry all the food and water we would need so that we could go nonstop. We would cook a hot meal in the boat the first evening, take turns sleeping two hours each, finishing at dusk, and go full strength through the night. We originally planned to sleep four hours each in the heat of the afternoon on the second day, although that plan changed...
Krugerhead 340
The chatter on the Rivermiles forum indicated that it would be a high-water year, similar to 2010. This was good news because high water meant fast times. Although, there was some disturbing talk about delaying or canceling the event if the water was too high. On Sunday, before the planned Tuesday start, the news came out of a 24-hour delay. This would cut into our relaxation time afterward, but was not a deal breaker.
Getting all these people together and to the start was major accomplishment. A 340 mile canoe race involves the mother of all car shuttles. Fortunately, Mark P and Brian Weber had worked out a shuttle plan that took care of us. When we were about half-way across Missouri in the van, the news came through that the event would be postponed until August due to a storm that was forecast to pass through the day before the race, resulting in a forecast crest one foot over flood stage at one of the gages. The event could not be run if any gages were forecast over flood stage, according to their permit, so the organizers had no choice but to postpone.
From a practical point of view, the river would only be a foot or two higher than it was in 2010, when the event went without a hitch and more people than average finished the race due to the fast water. We decided that we would proceed as planned and run the river. We all planned to be self-supported, so the lack of checkpoints was not an issue. Micheal Doty and Pat Harrington were covering the event on the Kruger Canoe Adventures blog, and renamed the event "Krugerhead 340"; the Krugerheads would be the only ones on the river.
The Start
The storms passed during the night, and Tuesday dawned clear and beautiful.
Staying at the Hilton before a canoe trip was a change of pace from the more normal procedure of sleeping in the back of a car. It made us feel like we were at a professional conference.
Our cars were in St. Charles, so the journey began with a hike through highway spaghetti to Kaw Point.
Joe brought his friend Wilson to keep him company during those long, lonely nights on the river.
The race starts at Kaw Point, the confluence of the Kansas and Missouri Rivers. Lewis and Clark camped here on their way up the Missouri.
They may look like normal humans, but the OC6 was packed with paddling legends from stem to stern. Their bios can be found on the Kruger Blog. Shown below is legendary canoe designer/builder, Everett Crozier in his self-built/designed OC6. How cool!
The Menehune was attached to the stern in accordance with Hawaiian tradition.
GO!!!
At 8 am Tuesday July 8, Mark P gave the word, and we were off. We pushed through the swirling logs and debris at the meeting of the Kaw and Missouri rivers, and into the swift current of the swollen Missouri. Soon we were hitting speeds of 7-10 mph, carried along by a 5 mph current. We normally cruise at 3 - 4 mph on flat water, so these speeds were blistering fast.
The river rushed past stationary objects at an alarming pace.
River mile signs nailed to trees or posts counted down the miles to the confluence with the Mississippi. We started at mile 367 and would finish at mile 27.
A hot breeze rustled the leaves of the cottonwood trees.
We pulled in close to Checkpoint 1 at Lexington at 1:55 pm to say hi to Ben's family and the OC6 shore crew, but we did not stop: 50 miles down 290 to go.
We caught up to Mareck and paddled with him off and on for the rest of the day.
It is remarkable to paddle a 340 mile run of river with no dams. However, the Missouri has been altered from its natural state. The historians at the Lewis and Clark Boathouse told us that the river was originally miles wide and only 18 inches deep. The US Army Corps of Engineers has channelized the river by building wing dikes on the insides of each bend and rip rap reinforcements on the outsides of the bends to create a deep channel for barge navigation. With the high water, all the wing dikes were submerged, but we wanted to stay in the deep channel to be in the fastest current. Red and green crossover markers indicated where the channel crossed from one side of the river to another, usually following the outsides of the bends.
At 4 pm, I fixed a hot meal for each of us. The Jetboil has a heat exchanger that allows very little heat to escape, so it works well in the canoe. Even so, I pulled up my pant legs to make sure they didn't catch on fire. After dinner, we started our cycle of taking turns sleeping in the canoe for two hours while the other paddled. By 9 pm, we would both be rested and ready to paddle through the night together.
We caught up to Joe Wildlife just before Checkpoint 2 at Waverly.
We pulled in to Waverly at 4:42 pm to socialize for a minute. Emily tossed us a couple of fresh peaches, which really hit the spot. Here, we met Wally Werderich for the first time. He adds color and spirit to the local paddling community by dressing up as a Mexican Luchador wrestler. He had planned to paddle in a four man racing canoe "Los Humungoes Paddleos" in the 340, but since the race was cancelled he was excited to follow the progress of Team Kruger. He gave us handfuls of cookies that he had prepared to give to all the teams at the pre-race meeting: Thanks Wally!
Ben's family was always excited to see Dad.
Wally's cookies really hit the spot for desert after my lasagna dinner.
After dinner it was time to lie down for my two hour nap. I sewed some new covers for sleeping in the canoe. They wrap around the coaming with light elastic, and we practiced quick escape from them in the event of a capsize.
The river was full of logs and debris from the flood. It was impossible to avoid the smaller sticks and logs as they moved erratically back and forth in the turbulent eddies. The sound of a log hitting the bow, rolling under the canoe, and popping up the rudder was a memorable part of sleeping in the canoe.
I did not sleep soundly, but it felt really good to lay down. At one point, I was roused by the sound of a loud engine and rushing water. I peeked out under the cover to see a tow boat pushing a raft of four barges up the river. It created a great deal of whitewater and wake. Lauren pulled off to the outside, and was close to some logjams on the wing dikes. The wake from the barge created standing waves in the turbulent eddies of the river and lingered for a long time. She seemed to have it under control, so I laid back down again.
Joe said that there is only one company operating barges on the river now, to transport liquid asphalt. Most of the time we had the river to ourselves. We only saw two motorboats on the river in 340 miles. The logs and debris in the river would not have been good for motorboats, but did not cause any difficulty for canoes.
At 7 pm it was Lauren's turn to sleep. I felt good after resting, and the cooler temperatures were invigorating.
Off on a tangent: big river turbulence
One of the fun things about Herman Mellville's "Moby Dick" was his habit of going off on tangents about things such as whether or not a whale has a nose. In that spirit....
I had never paddled such a large, fast-moving river. The river had some large-scale turbulent features that were truly impressive. Within a few hundred feet of the deep channel's edge, swirling turbulent eddies much larger than the canoe would push us sideways or change our course. This was not really a problem, it just meant we needed to go out more toward the middle. In the middle of the deep channel, the water was flat, but occasionally a giant turbulent upwelling would burst at the surface creating a startling noise of whitewater. These were surprising, but not threatening; at worst the canoe would be pushed sideways a bit. Most of the Krugerheads had never seen this before even though many of them had paddled the Missouri several times previously, although Joe was familiar with the phenomenon.
For those who like to geek out, here is an article that describes the mechanism that forms the turbulent boils that we were seeing. The current forms sand dunes on the bottom, and the flow over the dunes creates a vortex that can separate and intersect the surface. The paper had some nice figures illustrating the phenomenon. It showed some dunes in the Mississippi that were 24 ft tall!
( (2005), The fluid dynamics of river dunes: A review and some future research directions, J. Geophys. Res., 110, F04S02, doi:10.1029/2004JF000218.)
The first night
Paddling at night is always exiting. The cool air is invigorating after the heat of the day. Everything is a little more mysterious and scary in the dark. Our main concern was not to crash into anything, such as a parked barge, a moving barge, a bridge piling, a buoy, or a logjam. In addition, we wanted to stay in the fast water of the deep channel, which was more difficult without being able to see the crossover markers.
The waxing gibbous moon lit the way through the first half of the night, and we arrived at Glasgow (CP4) at 1:30 am with Marek and Ben. The shore crews were off sleeping somewhere, so there was no socializing to be had. The solo paddlers pulled out their sleeping pads and looked for a place to lie down for a short nap, while we pressed on.
After Glasgow, we entered the wee hours, when it gets harder to stay awake and the confusion often sets in. To make matters worse, the moon set and it became very dark. The milky way was overhead, and shooting stars streaked across the sky.
We heard a great roaring sound ahead and to the left, which is never a good thing on a fast river in the dark. We knew that there were no major obstacles in the river, but there was one hazard along the way: Lisbon Bottoms. I had not been paying attention to the navigation and thought Lisbon Bottoms was further along, but Lauren insisted that this must be it.
At Lisbon Bottoms there is a cut in the river bend where water runs over a dike choked with logjams. Scott, the race organizer, had warned everyone of Lisbon Bottoms. In the high water year of 2010 a tandem canoe was sucked into the chute and into the log jam. They stepped out onto the logs, but their canoe was crushed.
We paddled hard to get way over to river right into the slow water over the wing dikes, as far away from the roaring noise as possible.
Adrenaline washed the sleepiness from our brains as we stumbled our way through the bends of Lisbon Bottoms. It was difficult to find the deep channel in the dark. As we wandered into the shallows, we would encounter water rushing over sandbars and wingdikes, and the occasional buoy ripping through the current, and paddle hard away from the roar toward where we suspected deeper water would be.
Aaron Waldrop posted a video of the Lisbon Bottoms cut on Facebook, taken about the same time we were there. You can see big brown standing waves running over the dike and giant logjams on either side.
After the curves of Lisbon Bottoms, the river straightened our and was easier to navigate. I had proposed a sleep schedule where we sleep two hours out of every twelve, so we would start another sleep cycle at 5 am. I was ready for a lie down.
The second day
The sun was up by the time it was Lauren's turn to sleep. We were approaching the I-70 bridge and the first of the bluffs that were characteristic of the lower river.
At 9 am, we were back at full strength. The day was starting to heat up. We had come 182 miles in 24 hours, by far the most miles we had ever paddled in 24 hours.
Sand dredges seemed to be concentrated near the cities. It was amazing that these contraptions could be held in place against the 5 mph current. Each time we passed one, I couldn't help but imagine being swept under one by the current, and the thought sent chills up my spine.
We arrived at the state capitol of Jefferson City (Checkpoint 6) at 12:55 pm. We had come 223 miles. We moved on after a brief stop.
The afternoon was hot, and I was feeling drowsy. Our nominal plan was to start cooking dinner at 4 pm, then do another sleep shift at 5. However, Lauren suggested that we start early since we were not being as productive as we could be in the heat of the afternoon. The cool evening air would re-invigorate us.
I had chili mac and Lauren had lasagna. We filled the thermos of instant coffee hot chocolate mixture to keep us going through the night.
It was my third sleep shift. I slept progressively deeper each time; this time I passed out as soon as I laid down. However, I woke up after only an hour, feeling so alert that I decided to resume paddling rather than lay down for the second hour.
I was surprised to learn that we had passed the OC6 on shore at Chamois while I was sleeping. As Lauren passed, she pulled the canoe in close enough to wave, with me sleeping, nowhere in sight. I did not expect that we would see them again after the start. We learned later that their arrangements to sleep in the boat had not worked out, and they had to stop for a few hours to sleep on shore.
Gasconnade River mouth
The OC6 gradually overtook us as we passed the historic waterfront of Hermann (Checkpoint 7). It was 7:10 pm.
We felt like we were in the home stretch, having only 69 miles to go, but it would still take all night.
The second night
The OC6 gradually faded into the distance as the sun set on the second day. The moon was bigger and would not abandon us in the wee hours as it had the previous night.
The river was getting very wide, especially in the flooded sand bars of Berger Bottoms.
We sipped coffee mocha from the thermos to stay awake.
Each time a cluster of lights appeared from around the corner, a lengthy debate ensued; was it a moving barge, a raft of moored barges, a building, a space ship? The scene slowly unfolded over a half hour or so as we approached.
The two vans of the OC6 shore crew passed over the bridge at Washington as we passed under.
The moon approached the horizon as we entered the wee hours of the night. Wisps of fog rose from the water. If the fog got thicker we would have to pull off. A warm breeze dispersed the fog from the water, but did nothing to disperse the fog from our brains. We were so close, we just had to hold it together for a few more hours. It was hard to imagine being cold after the heat of the days, but I pulled the spray cover over my legs against the damp night air.
There was a bridge under construction. We squinted to discern what was ahead. We were surprised by a cluster of pilings in the middle of the river as we padded under the bridge, with only one dim light to show their presence.
A cluster of lights appeared ahead. Was it the casino that marked the end? Did the river go to the left of it or to the right, or was it actually a raft of barges in the middle of the river?
Finally, the real casino revealed itself unmistakably. Two lights were moving on the shore; some Krugerheads must have stayed up to welcome us in! We scanned our bright light to look for logs in the swirling eddies near shore, and finally pulled into the last eddy that was actually heading upstream. Bob Bradford and Mike Smith had stayed up to welcome us in; thanks Bob and Mike!
The day after
After landing, we dragged the canoe up onto the grass, crawled in, and fell asleep. The next thing I knew the sun was shining and it was getting hot. Some times excessive paddling can lead to a paddling hangover.
The Blue Water Boys, Mark and Jack, were the first to arrive at 12:30 am in Big Medicine. They paddled 40 hours and 30 minutes with no stopped time and no sleep, I can't imagine how they do it.
The OC6 arrived at 3:30 am, half hour ahead of us.
Joe was the first solo paddler to arrive at 7:30 am.
Ben arrived at 1:15 pm.
Brian arrived at 7:04 pm. He posted an excellent story on his blog; attracted by the lights of a riverside city, and a craving for salame sandwiches, he wandered in search of a grocery store. He ended up with a boat full of Wonderbread and American cheese slices, wondering whether squeezable Parkay spread is really edible.
Post paddle analysis
We completed the course in 44 hours. We kept it moving, with a stopped time of 47 minutes. Our moving average pace was 7.7 mph with a 7.5 mph overall average.The race had to be cancelled because the river was forecast to peak over flood stage, but one may wonder how our time compared with past runnings of the MR340. According to the records page, our time was the second fastest in MR340 mixed tandem history:
Mixed Tandem:
1 Chuck and Di McHenry (2010) 41:26
2 Dodd Yeager and Virginia Parker (2013) 44:19
3 Katie Pfefferkorn and West Hansen (2009) 44:32
4 Allen McAdams and Melanie Hof (2012) 45:05
5 Chuck and Di McHenry (2009) 47:26
6 Diane Diebold and Daryl Simon (2010) 47:37
7 Vicki and Del Cummings (2013) 49:29
8 Hilary Kelly and Ron Ladzinski (2009) 51:50
9 Diane Diebold and Jason Bettis (2012) 53:39
10 Brigitte Scott and Mark Scott (2011) 55:49
The previous record was set in 2010, which was the highest water year in which the race was run. In our run, the river peaked 1 ft over flood stage, and was about 2 ft higher than it was in 2010 throughout the course (see USGS streamflow plots below). So we ran the river at a higher and faster water level than any of the previous events; however, it's gratifying to know that we would have been competitive if the race had not been cancelled.
Missouri River levels during the 2010 MR340
Missouri River levels during our run in 2014
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