Day 272

Daily Stats
Start: 8:45 AM - MM 495 Rapids City, IL
Finish 4:45 PM - MM 463 Fairport, IA
Time: 8:00 hours
Daily dist: 32 miles
Lock 14: 9:10-9:15
Lock 15: 11:30-Noon
Total dist: 5400+
Companions: None
Weather: Partly cloudy, 70’s, WNW wind 20+ (headwind)
Notes: Fought wind all day

If you were to ask anybody that is the least bit geographically inclined which way the Mississippi River runs they‘d more than likely say from north to south. Indeed, over who knows how much time, the river does run from Lake Itasca in northern Minnesota primarily south to the Gulf of Mexico in Louisiana. Of course, like all rivers, the Mississippi twists and turns often running toward every direction on the compass within a thirty mile horseshoe bend, but overall it does flow from north to south. With that thought I was quite excited last night when I heard that big winds from the west northwest were due for today. A big tailwind combined with the already fast flowing river promised to push me downstream like a rocket.

Unfortunately, after reviewing the route I had planned for today, I discovered that this thirty mile section was aligned almost straight east to west… right into the big wind. What I’d hoped would be a great boost downstream instead was a persistent challenge to my forward progress. In fact the wind was blowing so hard at times that it brought me to a stand still despite my efforts combined with the river’s. If I had been anywhere but on a river like this I would have sat the day out and waited for calmer conditions. With the river’s help I knew I could make some distance and after reviewing the maps with Brent Pregracke (who has spent his entire life working these waters) we had a route lined out through side channels in order to avoid the wind as much as possible.

The first ten miles of progress took nearly twice as long as yesterday while I paddled over and through two and three foot waves being pushed up from the opposing forces of downstream flowing water and upstream blowing wind. The side channels were great ways to get out of the wind. By the time I’d cleared the second lock of the day in Davenport, IA I had barely had a chance to take my hands off the paddle while I fought my way downstream. In need of a break I spotted a rough ramshackle hut on a raft nosed in to the shore below the Highway 61 bridge. Brent had suggested that I keep my eye out for this very craft (called the Riff Raft) and the half dozen college age kids that go with it.

The Riff Raft

I couldn’t believe it, the words had just come out of Brent’s mouth and a couple hours later there they were. As I bobbed in the wind blown waves taking pictures a girl waved me to shore from a tarp covered window. The young woman was just what Brent had told me to expect. A little “earthy” with a distractingly large nose piercing and several tattoos. While yelling to each other over the howling wind while I sat in my kayak feet from shore, I learned that the group (who call themselves the Unseen Ghost Brigade) is a small theater troop that is floating down the river in their home made raft. They're making stops at river towns along the way doing street performances with hopes of raising money from donations to continue on with the trip. They have a flyer describing what they are all about so when Carin offered to get one for me I took the opportunity to land and stretch my legs.

The raft itself is well built and serves as the foundation for the shelter the group has assembled above. To get a picture of it in your mind try to picture a kids fort in the back yard assembled from whatever spare parts could be scavenged from all the construction projects in the area. Add a Minnesota boat registration number and an outboard motor and you have it. To make the picture more complete situate this ramshackle construction on the shore of one of the biggest rivers in the world and fill it up with no less than six bohemian street performers.

Teh kitchen inside the shack

Curious as to what the inside living quarters might look like for six people in one little shack I asked Carin if I could come inside. She said sure so I ducked the flapping tarp that is the door into the relative out-of-the-wind calm inside. The interior was incongruously tidy compared to the ramshackle exterior of the structure with a well built helm in one corner, a three burner propane stove in another, and storage in the back. They have a storage compartment on the roof of the hut where they keep camping supplies that allow them to spread out on beaches along the way and not have to cram into the shack every night.

Over a brief conversation I learned that after building the raft and starting out from Minneapolis in late June the troop is hoping to make it to New Orleans by New Years. They are making stops at river towns all along the way to perform a play entitled “Death on the Mississippi and the Adventures of the Unseen Ghost Brigade”. They’re also doing a documentary chronicling their adventure and the state of the river and the towns along it. Having run most of the water that lies ahead of them I know they’ll have plenty to report on.

Before I left Carin invited me to sign the ceiling of the shack and I reciprocated by inviting her to add her signature to my kayak. Just as I was getting ready to leave another of the kids named Chad rode up on a bicycle and we exchanged a quick explanation of what was going on and he signed my boat as well.

Chad and Carin (two of the six that call the raft home)

After my brief visit with the Riff Raft I pushed against the wind for the rest of the day and finally started looking for a camp site at about 3:00. It wasn’t until nearly 5:00 when I settled on a wind blown mud “beach” on up a hundred yards or so on a connector ditch that runs to a back bay. This was the only high ground I could find that was accessible and not covered in thick growths of Poison Ivy. The ground is a gelatinous mud that my feet begin to sink into if I stand in one place too long. Much of the beach is covered in a layer of dead dry grass that seems to spread my weight and not allow me to sink in. Taking a cue from what mother nature had started, I set about gathering up arm loads of the grass from all around the shore heaping it up in a layer about three inches thick where my tent was to go. The grass helped keep my tent up out of the mud clean and dry. I also gathered more grass and completed my campsite by laying out a walkway from my tent to the water so I could access the river without getting muddy feet. It took a little while but the effort turned what would have been a muddy wet camp site into a cozy dry one.