Dear Dennis and the FMR staff,

I just wanted to thank you again for letting me be a part of this event. I had so much fun volunteering my time while being able to participate as well. In my eyes the event was a huge success. I had so many paddlers come to me and comment on how well the event was coordinated, how much fun they were having and how they look forward to doing it again next year. I'm sure you all heard lots of the same responses from the paddlers you spoke to but I thought you should know what I heard out on the water over those two days. What a wonderful event. Way to go!

I would also like to share this with you:

When I coordinated and participated in “Awareness Paddle”, a 6 month kayak trip from MN to the Bahamas back in 1991, our goal was to kayak the river to raise awareness for Clean Water Action and Wilderness Inquiry. We achieved our goal through the media coverage along the way but for me personally it was far more than just that. I started a journey that led me to know of a freedom and peace I had never known before. It's been many years since that trip down “Old Muddy”. So much has changed in my life. But over this past weekend I realized just how much I've lost touch with that freedom and peace I once knew and how important it is for me to have that balance in my life. Being reunited with a river from long ago brought back a lot of memories while making new ones and it has changed my life once again. I met wonderful people that share a common bond, made some new friends and felt that reward you get when you volunteer your time. This experience has touched me in so many ways and I'm certain it has touched others too.

So at the end of the day, everything you guys do is making a difference in those around you. Even though they may not try to express it in goofy emails like this:)

Thanks again for doing what you do. Take care,

Scott Thiede

Thanks to all of you for sponsoring me on the 2004 Mississippi River Challenge, in aid of conservation and restoration work by Friends of the Mississippi River (FMR).

I'm here to report that the event was a great success – from the viewpoints of both the organizers and the participants.

You can see pictures of the trip at http://photobucket.com/albums/v130/tatham/MRC%202004/ Because of the way I loaded the images into Photobucket, I'd recommend you click on the 28th image then click “Previous” to see them in the correct order. Sorry!

Undaunted by a rather ropey weather forecast of possible showers and thunderstorms for the weekend, some 280 paddlers of all ages and abilities checked in and dropped off their varied watercraft at Coon Rapids Dam Regional Park on the Friday evening. Boats ranged from 8-place Montreal fur trader's canoes to solo “sit-on-top” kayaks, rental canoes to hand-built rowing boats. A handful of FMR staff camped out, guarding the boats while the rest of us spent a last night in our beds.

I woke at 5:00 am on the Saturday morning to the sound of rain hammering on the roof, but by the time I drove down to the take-out point at Grey Cloud Island at 7:30, things were looking a little better, and it was dry, if still cloudy. I took a shuttle bus back up to Coon Rapids Dam, and spent an hour getting my kayak organized, listening to the safety orientation and, most important of all, taking a final opportunity to use a real restroom!

The first section of the day's paddle was on a part of the river very similar to what the first white visitors to the area would have found – a fairly narrow, shallow river, braided between small wooded islands. It was hard work guiding my 17-foot sea kayak around the tight turns, and around the snags and Class I rapids. This boat is made for long straight runs across open water, and here the river was too shallow to allow me to use the rudder. In some places it was easier to go down backwards than forwards!

The bad news was that with the improvement in the weather came a wind from the south, and as I came out of the sheltered narrow section of the river to wider water, just upstream of Anoka, I found myself pushing against a stiff headwind. I had expected that even without paddling, I would drift down at 1-2 mph, with the current, but experimentation soon proved that if I didn't paddle, the wind kept me stationary! Canoes, with their higher profile were affected even more, and some, with less-experienced crews had a lot of difficulty steering.

Below the first rest stop in Anoka the river widened out more, and we started seeing the first evidence of development, with houses and docks on the riverside. The wind intensified. As I got closer to Minneapolis, the scenery slowly changed, with more evidence of industry along the shore. Finally I rounded a bend to see the misty shape of the downtown skyline in the distance. Lunch was not far ahead! Forty-five minutes later I finally pulled in to the landing at Boom Island, just north of downtown Minneapolis – about 2 hours behind the expected schedule. Thankfully there was a bunch of cheerful and sympathetic volunteers to help us out of our boats (legs don't work well after being wedged against the thigh braces for any length of time!) Lunch was a substantial boxed sandwich and a couple of buckets of water.

Then it was back on the water for the first of three locks. The Mississippi is navigable to commercial traffic as far upriver as just north of Minneapolis. This was achieved by the building of a series of locks and dams that divide the river into a series of deep “pools”. The largest drops on the river are the three uppermost locks – Upper St Anthony Falls (50 ft), Lower St Anthony Falls (30 ft) and the Ford Lock and Dam (37 ft). This last one is officially known as Lock and Dam No. 1. Apparently the two St Anthony Falls locks were added after the numbering system was in place. I headed across the river to the Western bank, timing it perfectly to allow me to paddle straight into the first lock, along with about 80 other paddlers. For many, this was their first experience of “locking” on the river, and they didn't know quite what to expect. It's actually an almost imperceptible process – the lock gates closed behind us almost silently and, without fuss or rushing sounds, the water level in the lock started to drop. Even at a million gallons a minute, it still takes about 15 minutes to drop the full 50 feet from the upper pool to the intermediate pool. With the lower gates open, it was a slow process to get everyone out of the lock, as boats jockeyed for some clear water to get their paddles in. Here the canoes were better than the kayaks, as a seven foot long kayak paddle needs a lot of room and there's a good chance of clipping someone inadvertently if they get too close. Once out, it was an easy paddle under the Stone Arch Bridge, waving to the spectators, then past the historic Mill District of Minneapolis to the Lower St Anthony Falls Lock. Here again we were fortunate to be able to paddle straight in, and another heavenly rest as we dropped the next 30 feet to the lower pool.

Now we entered a totally different part of the river. This was the Gorge – the only one on the whole length of the river – caused by the upstream erosion of St Anthony Falls from near St Paul to its current location in Minneapolis over the last 12,000 years. Here the river runs between high bluffs, and the only real indication of the presence of Man is the occasional bridge or set of power lines across the river. And as an extra treat, down here, the wind was gone. Oh, bliss! The run down to the Minneapolis Rowing Club and our afternoon rest stop was relatively easy, and we could take the time to admire the scenery and occasional wildlife (egrets, jumping carp, raccoons...). Leaving the Rowing Club – now about 4 hours behind schedule, it was only a couple of miles further down the gorge to Lock and Dam No. 1 by the Ford truck plant. Again, timing was spot on, arriving just as the lock opened to let out a few up-stream-bound power craft. Here I found an example of how inconsiderate some of the pleasure-boat crowd can be, as one boat “floored it” as he came past, causing a wake large enough to break over the deck of my boat. Not a big deal for me, but for a canoe in inexperienced hands (of which there were many on the river that day!), it could have caused a capsize. This last lock led to my “home” stretch of the river. I've paddled this section both winter and summer, and there is always something new to see. Today, as we stroked the last mile to Fort Snelling and our supper, with the sun setting over the river, we were greeted by the Anson Northrup and Harriet Bishop, two of the Padelford Packet Boat Company's tour boats out of St Paul, and a tow pushing a couple of gravel barges upriver.

We staggered up the hill from the river to Fort Snelling, which had kindly agreed to host us for the night. I collected my camping gear from the truck, and very quickly put up my tent, changed clothes and made my way into the Fort for a supper of barbecued pork, beans and several bottles of cold Summit Grand. Ah! Bliss!

By 10:15 the campsite was like a graveyard – no lights, no activity. Though I understand there were a few hardy souls camped on the parade ground inside the Fort who lasted a little longer, and found the energy to party. Ah, to be that young again!

Morning was announced at 6:30 by the firing of the Morning Cannon – and a glorious morning it was! Calm winds and the sun just peeking across the roof of the Fort from a largely cloudless blue sky. If it wasn't for the fierce ache across my neck and shoulders...still, breakfast and the exercise of breaking camp soon started to make me feel better, and I was back on the river by 8:15.

The first rest stop was at Harriet Island, where I caught up with the coffeepot. From here on we were into the third phase of the riverine geography – the floodplain. Here the river bluffs receded, and the land around was largely flat and open. We paddled in blissfully calm conditions past downtown Saint Paul, and the boats at the Saint Paul Yacht Club marina, then past mile after mile of moored grain barges, tows and other workboats. If you want to experience insignificance, I can recommend paddling a kayak past an empty, high-riding grain barge. It's like a rusty-red iceberg from down on the water!

Now the river was wide and more like a lake than a river, but a burst of new-found energy saw me putting my back into paddling and the kayak seemed to fly over the water. It felt good to change the pace a little.

Lunch was at the southern tip of Pigs-Eye Island, and there to greet us was Pigs-Eye Parrant himself, leaning on a stick and grumbling softly about the soft state, strange dress (especially the women!) and odd manners of these hundreds of invading voyageurs. Surly sort of a fellow! This stop was only accessible from the river and most of the facilities (and all the volunteers) had been shipped in on a work barge, especially for our trip.

After lunch, more miles of moored barges, open water, and the sound of train horns through South Saint Paul and the roar of the refinery at Saint Paul Park. As we approached Saint Paul Park and our last rest stop at Lions Levee Park, we started to see more powerboats, and also experienced more bad manners in terms of wakes. For this section, since the sun was out and it was getting quite warm, I'd left my spray skirt off, but by the time I reached the rest-stop, I was soaked and the cockpit was in need of bailing out. I took a long break here, since I was now well up among the first pack of paddlers, then, donning my spray skirt again, it was off on the last four or five miles to the take-out at Aggregate Industries, on Lower Grey Cloud Island. From here on we were definitely back into residential territory, and I was immediately glad of my spray skirt as we passed the mouth of the marina just south of the park, for a powerboat decided he could squeeze through the gap between the two canoes 15 yards ahead of me, and my boat, if he went fast enough. This was to set the tone for the rest of the trip, with at least 50% of the power craft failing to slow down for us. This plus the fact that we were back into a headwind made for a decidedly choppy last few miles. I do have to admit however that it did help to take my mind off my by-now burning back and shoulders. I really shouldn't have put on that burst of speed out of Saint Paul!

Turning off the River, into Baldwin Lake, and a last quarter mile up to the take-out was a little sad, despite the knowledge that I could soon stop making that push-pull motion with my arms that I'd been doing for about 15 out of the last 31 hours. Everybody pitched in with pulling boats out of the water, loading cars, and trying our best to eat up all the left-over food, and water, then suddenly the adventure was over and all that was left was the drive home and a well-earned shower, and a soft bed!

I'd like to say thanks to the corporate sponsors who provided transportation, food and water, secure parking and so on, and to the dozens of volunteers who helped with the rest stops, marshalling boats, helping us getting out, and in, and serving us food and refreshments. Finally, a huge vote of thanks to the organizers, FMR, for the incredibly good organization of the event (I heard nothing but good things about them from other participants), for the tireless staff-members at each of the stops, and for their good works for the Mississippi River – helping to conserve and restore this national treasure for future generations, while maintaining the balance in perspective between that and the fact that as a vital transportation artery, it keeps so much commercial traffic off our already busy road and rail network.

I'll be back out there on the river again next year – and if any of you would like to join me it'd be great to see you there too!

Thank you once again for your support.

Andy Tatham