Joe & Isaac's Adventure: Episode 1 - Chapter 3

We were entering a new section of the river. From Grand Rapids to Aitkin the river twists and winds through a huge old glacial lake bed. Shortly after leaving Grand Rapids the river begins to pick up silt from the banks which are made up of soft loess. Soon the Mississippi becomes a river of mud very reminiscent of it's appearance back home in St. Louis. As it was earlier above Bemidji, the river was again full of sweepers, but it was wider now and flowing fast enough that there was always a central channel open. The sweepers here were indeed dangerous as the river current was very strong. Canoeing through in early June, the river was still higher than normal.

Grand Rapids to Aitkin was a good week's worth of hard canoeing. The small town of Pallisades was the only civilization along the way so we would have to stay almost exclusively at MDNR canoe campsites. Throughout the headwaters region of the river the MDNR places canoe campsites along the river. They're spaced anywhere from twelve to twenty miles apart. The campsites are rather primitive. They weedwack an area that provides ample space for a tent or two, drop in a picnic table and fire ring, and dig a hole back in the woods with a toilet seat over it -- facilities vary between what Isaac and I called rustic or modern. Finding each campsite was often difficult. The maps from the MDNR would let you know where you were within a mile or so of a campsite. The trick then was to find the marker sign from out on the river. In an effort to not disturb the natural setting, the MDNR has camouflaged the signs for the campsites. They are painted tree-bark brown with a nice earthy yellow canoe and tent symbol. They blend in very nicely with the surrounding forest.

With the river nearby and ample wetlands and marsh all around, each campsite had its own mosquito hatchery. Ask any Minnesotan and they'll tell you that the mosquito is their state bird. Fortunately the vicious beasts did not follow us out onto the river. However, as soon as we would arrive at a campsite, our first priority and only concern was to unpack the Deep Woods Off (sportsmen's version for extreme conditions). Learning to live with the mosquitos was one of the major facets of our trip and an effort that caused us considerable preoccupation. The first time a mosquito lands in your dinner you fuss and holler about it and then pick the creature out with an exclamation of disgust. A few days later you just pick the dead carcass out of your noodles and toss it casually aside. A week later still, you sit over your dinner slapping the monsters down into the pot with a cry of glee and a comment such as, "a little extra protein is just what it needs", or "its us or them!" Bug netting, a strong repellent, and a bug proof tent are mandatory survival equipment in the early Spring in Minnesota. Every night before we went to sleep in our tent we preformed one final ritual -- the mosquito search and destroy. At times the monsters were so thick that you couldn't avoid breathing one in and swallowing it. The morning trip to the privy was also a special mosquito event given the need to expose additional and somewhat sensitive skin that the blood sucking beasts were quick to discover and attack (there are some places that you don't want to spay with Deep Woods Off).

We made good progress now in this section of the river. With the aid of the current we were moving at four and sometimes five miles an hour. In one day we managed to paddle thirty two miles (seven hours). We were impressed with ourselves until we met Steve and Paul. One evening when we had just turned in and it was still dusk outside, another canoe pulled up to our campsite. We got out of our tent and helped them unload their gear. Steve and Paul were both young healthy men. Their canoe, unlike ours, was made for speed with a long narrow bow and curved bottom. Theses guys were doing as much as sixty miles a day! Some days as much as twelve hours in the canoe. They were making the trip from the river's source down to Steve's home which is right on the river above St.Cloud. Paul worked for the MDNR and Steve was a school teacher. Both of these fellows as it turns out helped us finish our trip latter in the summer. We talked with them while they ate and set up their tents. They were soon in bed and then back on the river with the sunrise a few hours later. Isaac, now at the age of thirteen, is want to sleep ten hours or more a night. He's growing fast and his body needs that sleep, so we would typically get the canoe in the water around ten in the morning. By that time I imagine Steve and Paul had already paddled as far as we would go for the day.

After a few days in complete wilderness, we were pleased to arrive in Pallisades. It's a small town with only a few shops on the main street, but they had some critical items that we needed -- more Deep Woods Off for one. We really enjoyed the opportunity to have breakfast in town that next morning. Isaac ordered three pancakes unaware that when you order pancakes up there they serve them "Paul Bunyan" style. When the waitress set his plate down I let out a big woah! It was a twelve inch plate the rim of which was barely visible under the pancakes. An older couple sitting at the next table were amused at my reaction and offered the comment, "he's a growing boy, he can do it." He could, along with sausage and hashbrowns on the side! Pallisades is right on the river where Aitkin county maintains a park and campground. We were the only tenants that day at what we came to call the pine log memorial graveyard. As we traveled down the river the quality of the fresh water that was available to us became a concern. We didn't fear the water was dangerous, but there was quite a variation in taste from wonderful to pretty awful. The water in Pallisades was wonderful. One final note about Pallisades: Isaac and I, frequent visitors to the great city of Memphis TN, were stunned to find that Elvis is alive and well and apparently still performing in northern Minnesota. It all fell together for us. If you were Elvis and you wanted to disappear, where could you go here in the States and not be discovered -- of course, northern Minnesota! I offer the photo below as proof. There's Elvis playing at Patty's Beef and Beer on July 7th in Pallisades.

It took us a week to make the trip from Grand Rapids to Aitkin. I would have enjoyed this section of the river much more but for the mud. It is a naturally muddy section of the river to begin with, but, since the river had recently flooded and was still running high, it was very muddy. Isaac and I would watch the map carefully for spots where other rivers met the Mississippi. Often these rivers were flowing clear. We would move the canoe into the clear water of one of these tributaries where we could look down into the water. How I wished we were canoeing one of those rivers instead. The park at Aitkin was a mud pit plane and simple. When we tried to get out of the canoe at the boat launch, we sank nearly knee deep into the muck. For three or four yards, the river bank was soft gooey muck -- any attempt to get down to the river required walking in this goo, which, by the river's edge, would suck you down more than ankle deep. Everything was muddy.

Normally, the maps that the MDNR provided for us were accurate, but in the case of Aitkin's county park and campsite they contained one glaring error. Caked and covered in mud, we arrived in Aitkin smiling nonetheless at the prospect of a hot shower. The map clearly indicated that the Aitkin campground had showers. Our disappointment sucked down our spirits like the mud sucked at our feet when we discovered the map was wrong about the showers.

Filthy and exhausted, we just couldn't let go of our expectation for a hot shower. We'd been seven hours in the canoe that day mostly looking at that shower symbol on the map at Aitkin. So we pulled the canoe up into the grass (muddy work), covered it with our tarp and headed into town in search of a motel. About two miles from the park, on the outskirts of town we found The Forty Club Motel and checked in.

The next day the weather turned bad. We decided to stay in town. It rained quite a bit and thunderstorms managed to knock out the power in town. It was nearing the time we would have to be picked up. We could return to the river in July, but at the end of June we were expected in Florida for Grandpa and Grandma's fifty year wedding anniversary celebration. We hoped we would make it to Brainerd by then, but as fortune would have we did not. The next day it was very difficult to decide what to do. The morning was clear and the weather looked good, but the forecast was for afternoon thunderstorms with the possibility of severe storms. The rest of the week's forecast also concerned me. The trip to Brainerd was three days with no easy access off the river. Once we started we would be committed. The forecast for the entire week was for severe afternoon thunderstorms. It was Monday morning. If we didn't leave by Thursday it would be too late. I chose caution and decided to stay. Isaac wanted to press on. Of course the weather for the rest of the day was fine. Tuesday morning it was raining again. By now we had moved to the campground in the park. We spent our days wandering around town dodging the rain, window shopping and looking for amusement. Tuesday evening we went to the town cinema and saw Pearl Harbor(great special effects, lots of explosions, way too long, mediocre screenplay, mediocre acting, little relation to actual history, dangerous nationalistic propaganda).

On Wednesday the weather again looked dicey. Isaac really wanted to get moving, but again I opted to stay. The weather forecasters had started talking about the possibility of tornados and very severe thunderstorms. It was now June 13th. That evening in the tent we were listening to the radio as the sky began to turn threatening. Then a tornado warning was issued for Brainerd just twenty eight miles south west of us. We then heard a report of a tornado sighting about five miles north of Irontown -- precisely where we would have been camping for the night had we proceeded. As reports of damage in Brainerd began to come in, the tornado warning was moved to Aitkin where we were. I tried to call for help when the wind began blowing our tent down on top of us and the sirens sounded, but the Sprint phone wouldn't work (see: Sprint phone debacle). Fortunately we only suffered some high winds and torrential rains. It rained so hard that the water began to pool up under our tent and seep through the floor. Isaac, went out in a poncho and dug a quick drainage ditch for us to keep us from floating away. The next morning we learned that a tornado had ripped through five miles of Brainerd and destroyed 75 homes -- see NOAA link: Brainerd Tornado. That was enough excitement for me. The weather forecasters said to expect more of the same. I called Clare and told her to pick us up in Aitkin. Brainerd and the river would have to wait while we drove back to St. Louis and then on to Florida. It was for the best as the river was still quite high and below Brainerd it starts getting pretty big. A couple weeks for the river level to drop wouldn't hurt us one bit.