Sleep-deprived and hastily packed, I pointed my truck north on Friday afternoon. First stop, U-haul return. Second stop, the License Center (to "register" my canoe ("register" in this sense means cough up 24 bucks for the privilege to use my canoe on Minnesota's waters for three years). Third stop, JB's in Oakdale. Fourth stop, Jon's Dad in Stillwater. (JB's dad provided world-class logistical support for this expedition.) We spent the first night at their place up near the Crow Wing chain of lakes.
Saturday morning, our expedition began. We put in on the 3rd Crow Wing Lake (the third of eight, counting south-to-north). We planned to paddle to Nimrod (nearly 35 miles) the first day, then down to Motley (another 40 miles) the next. The first 5-7 miles was a beautiful paddle through wild rice and reeds in a narrow corridor between the Crow Wing lakes. By the time we were south of the 1st Crow Wing Lake, the river opened up a little. Except for cabins on the lakes and about three fishermen, we had the waterways to ourselves. That changed when we got south of the intersection between the Shell and Crow Wing Rivers. That's where we found our first tubers. Tubers - almost like potatoes except not buried underground, inedible, drunk, and floating on tire innertubes.
Dinner Saturday night consisted of Mac-and-Cheese, steaks, and a few cans of Grain Belt Premium Lager ("Premo" for we Minnesotans). The stars were spectacular. The bugs were not-so-bad. And, the air was cool. I slept out under the stars and watched as the last few pieces of pine were devoured by flame and the tubers camping nearby stumbled home from the bar in Nimbrod. Then, I'm not sure if it was the steaks, beer, or the river water (I used a micro-filter with chlorine drops for most of our water supply on Saturday), but I awoke about 0430 with the worst case of (gastro-intestinal distress) I've ever suffered. I alternately wanted to weep and vomit. (Sorry.)
I will say, except for the tuber-traffic, it was a stellar paddle all-around. The weather was gorgeous. We saw numerous bald eagles and scores of waterfowl - even several loons on the third Crow Wing. The water was clear. The forests were lush and green. If you find yourself planning a trip on the Crow Wing River, plan a week-day trip during Summer, or in the Spring, when it's too cold to float half-naked down the river and the water levels are a little higher.
We cut our Sunday plans a bit shorter. We settled for a 15-mile paddle down to a county park west (?) of Staples. Sunday's paddle made any inconvenience on Saturday worthwhile (this is the day that the Lord has made!). The river opened up . . . the bottom was mostly flat and sandy. We saw one other canoe and two peaceful tubers. The sky was mostly overcast. Sore backs and shoulders loosened up. It was a bit bittersweet when we pulled up to the dock . . . . JB's dad arrived less than an hour later.
Canoeing rocks . . . .
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