The morning of
So I'm not sure if the title of this post is completely accurate however describing such a beautiful mess is hard to do. Today (well yesterday since there is no way I was going to blog after all that) we woke up at midnight to attempt to paddle 100 miles in 24 hours. I say attempt because at the start of any such undertaking there can be no way of knowing. We packed quickly and loaded the boat and were about to paddle on down the river. However we were hesitant to begin because there were two rather large barges headed down river and we wanted to wait because of the trouble that can occur when strong eddy lines and the wash from a barge combine. After about an hour and change we were on the water. Things started out slow but fine until the fog set in. Not the sci-fi type of fog out of which swamp thing emerges. This fog was from the surface of the water to about head level making out lights virtually useless. The large wing dams which protrude from the banks essentially invisible till we were right on them. As we paddled further into the dark the barge traffic picked up. This is both nerve racking and helpful. It's helpful because you can get an idea of where in the endless expanes of darkness the river goes, information you take for granted during the day. It's also nerve racking because it's a giant hunk of steel that is unstoppable. One of the barges we radioed to let them know where we were was especially talkative (a quality rarely experienced in the day time). As we paddled passed he asked where we were going and we told him 100 miles to Memphis and then on to the gulf. He laughed and said "you doin this for sport or you my bother just doin it for fun?" Just for fun we responded laughing. We wished each other a safe journey and paddled on. Paddling was still slow and the fog had gotten worse just as our friendly barge captain had warned. As we paddled a loud rushing sound emerged from the darkness and before we could react we had been pushed over the top of a wing dam that was below the surface but not enough for us to pass over it. Amanda and I both became pretty nervous at this point. Amanda began to repeatedly remind me that she trusted me as I hopped out of the canoe and pushed us off the wing dam. Back in the boat but shaky we paddled on. Amanda and I both had knots in our stomachs but did our best to be encouraging and supportive. 4.5 hours later day began to break and the sight of dawn was the only thing that got us off the beach we had stopped at for a much needed physical and emotional break. Climbing back into the boat a thick bank of fog rolled in reducing visibility to about 20 feet. Soon after we nearly ran into a wing dam, it was time to slow down or wait for things to clear. After 6 hours total and only 25 miles we stopped at the side of the river. The barges had stopped and we took that as a sign that we should do the same. Another 30-45 minutes passed, the fog cleared and the sun was out. With great visibility we paddled as hard as our bodies would allow. Every muscle in our backs and arms screamed for a break but we forced ourselves to only take breaks every 3 hours. At around 2pm we headed for a sand bar for a break. As we neared,a gigantic Asian carp about the size of Refgie jumped out of the water banging against the bow. It was only because of Amanda amazing defense and ninja chop that the carp didn't land in the boat, which would have led to us flipping or atleast to Amanda swimming! As Amanda screamed I laughed and said "hey thank god for dead fish polo!" By the time the sun had set we paddled nearly 85 miles and although night was closing in we pushed forward. Once again barge traffic had increased. As we approached another turn in the river we radioed to let the barges know we were heading south. The initial response was confusion from the barge captains because there were 10+ barges headed upstream and all we could do was call out to "north bound towes." At this point we were 7 miles from Memphis. We had made 93 miles in approximately 16 hours. We had stayed on the right side of the river which had previously been without wing dams and was the side the barges asked us to stay on. This was also interesting because typically barges were not passing on the side of the river with wing dams, for obvious reasons. As a barge approached we suddenly found ourselves on the upstream side of a wing dam. We had been in such a position before and knew that we simply had to wait for the barge to pass to avoid the prop wash the proceed in an arch to avoid what could be a significant eddy line. As we made our way we saw the eddy line, encountered some rollers from the barge and believed we were in the clear. Suddenly and without warning we were being battered by huge waves which looked to be 5-8ft high coming from several directions. The water was loud and violent. A large wave broke against he side of the stern soaking Reggie and I. Amanda screamed and I felt myself start to freeze. In that same moment I apparently (although I have no recollection of this) shouted "we're Gonna die. No wait were not going to die tonight!" I do remember after the shock of the size of the waves telling Amanda to switch sides and paddle and that we were done. It was clear that the river was reminding us why paddling at night is against the rules! We were done, no challenge is worth a life. We made it to a great sandy beach unloaded and set up. Amanda was amazing. I was in such pain from the paddle, drained for the stress of nearly swamping out boat at night, and was soaked. As she set up the tent I slowly and very inefficiently changed into dry clothes and started water for dinner. To further explain the extent of my impairment, starting water for dinner should be a 2 min process, which including taking out a couple packets of ramen, had taken me nearly 15min. After what seemed an eternity we were dry, in bed, and warm. As I drifted off to sleep Amanda began to repeatedly say my name to wake me up. What, you may ask would motivate a person to wake one up after a day like that? Well apparently it was because she herd snorting from outside the tent. I probably should have explained to her the wild pigs in Arkansas instead of letting her imagination and fatigue take over. In reflection, it seems fitting that we didn't make it. I never could answer myself today when I questioned what was my motivation. It would seem we took on this challenge just to prove we could.
Happy to be on land!!!
Day 70
In reflection of yesterday it seems no coincidence that all day I kept asking myself, "why am I doing this?" We spoke about last night and yesterday in general today. Typically we both seek out the greatest challenges and more often then not achieve them. This trip in a small way could be the same. We wanted to paddle a river so which did we choose? The longest river in the country ( yes I know if you count the Missouri as the true source that's longer but just go with it). Went to college, then got our masters degree, and the list goes on. We agreed that failing our bid for 100 miles in 24 hours was exactly what we needed. It was a reminder that the river makes the rules and success on a trip like this depends on how well you follow them. Anyway we rested on that little sandy island and it was great. We made a badass tarp shelter (see below), played some cards, and took field showers. That night a wicked wind storm came through and shook our tent so hard we were convined it would collapse. It also flipped out cNoe that we had tied down quite well but the wind was kind enough to flip it back for us. We also spoke with Dale Sanders a fellow source to sea paddler and the oldest one to do so. We will probably see him tomorrow in Memphis and with any luck ge a shower and do some laundry at his home. Either way we plan to explore Memphis and end up where ever we end up.
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