It was still raining when I woke up.  I lay there, waiting for it to stop.  Once I did, I took a quick trip to the latrine (which I shared with a million ant eggs), and packed up to go.  It’s the few minutes where I’m packing up my kayak in the morning that I just loathe.  I'm stationary, focusing on not letting my gear get wet and muddy, focusing on putting the neoprene hatch cover on properly.  The mosquitos descend on me and I can’t do anything about it.  I wear my headnet, I wear bug spray, I wear long pants and sleeves, and they still bite me through the fabric.  It’s like I can hear them laughing at me when I’m in that vulnerable I’m-packing-so-I-can't-swat-you place.  It takes several deep breaths (and each deep breath is more time they can bite me!) to calm myself down and make sure I don’t forget anything or inadvertently fall into the river or something.  

When I get on the water, the mosquitos back off, and the deer flies take over.  They love landing on my hands, and biting me through my gloves.  My first knuckles are covered in tiny bruised bites.  When they bite me there, I have to set my paddle down before I can swat at them.  It eats precious time, and can be maddening.  I started imagining creating a mosquito net cover for my kayak.  It would use tent-pole like support, and I’d wear it like a spray skirt, but it would have to be wider than my kayak to allow full range of motion of my arms.  The paddle (which breaks down into 2 pieces) could be put through holes fitted with gaskets to keep the bugs out. The more I think about it, the more I desperately want this invention.

A thunderstorm popped up, and I pulled over to the weeds as it passed.  Thirty minutes, sitting like a drowned rat as thunder and lightning passed overhead, the raindrops getting bigger and bigger until they seemed like hail.  As soon as it passed, I left, only to have another storm with more intense lightning pass overhead not 5 minutes later.  This time, I pulled over under some trees, which provided a bit more cover, but also harbored a swarm of mosquitos that were eating me alive.  Crazily maddened with the mosquitos and a little bit scared with the lightning, not really knowing if I was in fact safer on the side of the river than just continuing on, I had a moment where I thought, “This is terrible.  Why am I doing this?”  The moment I got back on the river, my podcast shared the inner thoughts of Hermione, just as she’s realizing she can be a hero (paraphrased): “I wonder how many people become heroes just because they’re embarrassed to turn back?  It’s not like we read in the history books, ‘and then they thought “the sensible thing to do would be to stop now,” but then they realized that would be embarrassing, so they continued to save the day.”  I laughed out loud. 

Folly + determination + embarrassed to quit = heroism?

The river reminded me of Bert's chalk drawings from Mary Poppins.  I had this song stuck in my head all day.  
I paddled 22 miles today, a long day, but it didn't seem all that long to my muscles, even though they’re definitely sore.  My hands ache before anything else now. 

Paddling, deer flies everywhere.  They bite me through my gloves and I swat them off my hips where they bite me through my pants.  But then they land on my deck bag and clean their colorful eyes with their filamentous legs, and I can’t help but think they’re cute.  It’s sort of amazing—they risk their very lives to get a bite of me.  I’m glad my meals don’t involve a very real threat of death. When I kill one, I marvel at the perfection of their tiny iridescent wings.  I throw it in the water, and hope a fish enjoys the meal. 

Laying in, checking the overwhelming response to all the blogs I posted last night, and thinking about the thunderstorms forecasted, I heard, “Hello?  Is this Alyssum’s tent?”  Still bed-headed, I popped my head out of the tent to meet Steve Otto, official representative of the local planning commission, on his bike.  “I’ve been reading your blog, and just wanted to check and see if you needed anything.” I chatted with him for a little bit and he assured me that Jim Lewis, a Grand Rapids river angel with whom I’ve been texting, was the patriarch of river angels in the area.  Indeed, I realized a few days ago that I was running out of contacts (I wear daily contacts because my eyes dry out too easily otherwise—another strange symptom of EDS).  I had my uncle send a box of contact lenses to Jim, and he'll meet me tomorrow night at a campsite, to bring them to me!

I called the portage assistance and chatted with Cheryl (with whom I have been sharing the campsite for 2 nights).  She and I bonded over our love for wildlife and nature, and though her idea of climate change was God telling us he was unhappy about how much sinning we’re doing (as opposed to my more scientific explanation), I agreed that we weren’t doing a great job of taking care of the world we were given.  She said to me, “Alyssum, you’re the first person who didn’t just brush me off, and tell me I was crazy. Most people say I don’t know what I’m talking about.  I feel like we’re really on the same page. I don’t want you to go.”  I said, “Well, I’m atheist, but I think we all come to the conclusions we come to based on our experience of the world.  And the thing is, we all want to live in a healthy world, so why don’t we focus on that instead of our differences?”  “Yes!” Cheryl said, “There’s so much corruption and greed, why isn’t there more collaboration!?  And I don’t care if you call your higher power “nature,” and I call mine “God”; we all have a higher power, something that gives us strength.”

The portage assistant, Dean, showed up then, and I rushed to finish packing up my things before the oncoming threatening clouds came in.  Cheryl and Rick gave me a donut (yum!) and we drove through Grand Rapids, saving me 3.5 miles of water and 2 long portages.  At the boat ramp, the clouds were even more ominous, but I opted to just get in and get going.  The clouds rolled in fast, and I hoped it would just blow by.  “There’s a bridge not far from here, you can take shelter there,” my helpers informed. I had just enough time to take a single water quality measurement (downstream from the Blandin paper factory) and lodge myself between some rocks under the bridge when a torrential downpour arrived.  Dry and grateful for the shelter, I snapped some pictures, and then heard a question. Looking up, I saw 2 bikers who were also using the bridge as cover.  We shouted to eachother over the din of the storm, asking and answering questions.  
Yes, I’m headed all the way to the Gulf.  
Wow, the water so shallow you could walk across the river here a few weeks ago?  
The rain let up, and I set off.

The rest of the day was just gorgeous.  Interesting cloud patterns, and a river lined with trees on both sides.  For the first time, it was wide enough that I felt like I was on a proper river, not just a swollen creek.  I realized too late that I had forgotten to pack my GoPro on my deck bag, so I couldn’t video record any of the beauty today.  I saw a mama otter and her two little ones, all bouncing their squiggly bodies across the bank.  So cute!!!  That was my favorite thing today.  I also so a merganser with 8 ducklings, and several scrawny deer.  Then I saw…horses?  No, they were cows up there on the bluff!  Cows were strange to see after so much wildlife, but I expect I’ll be seeing more of that.  Some of the banks had this soft pillowy-looking grass, dotted with daisies, and I was reminded of the opening scene of Little House on the Prairie where Laura is bouncing happily down the prairie hill.  

I paddled 20 miles down to Blackberry campsite.  Similar to Crazy James’ where you have to haul your stuff up a hill, the campsite was nice—and provided a bear-proof locker for my food.  Not sure if there are bear this far east, but was happy to have a way to confound the raccoons.  After hauling all my gear up the hill, I was sweating.  I realized how much I’ve been enjoying the perfect 60-75 degree weather so far.  After a wet-wipe “bath” in my tent, and still sweating, I realized how much more difficult and uncomfortable everything will be, as I move further south and into the hottest months.  For dinner, I enjoyed a packet of corn chowder with a packet of ramen mixed in (not cooked—just cold water poured over it, and a longer waiting period before eating).  

George Hawkins is an Ojibwe man, living on the banks of the Mississippi south of Lake Winnibigoshish.  More about my meeting with him here.  He provides his personal insights into the health of the river, and some environmental work he's done in the past. Hint: he's my hero and I didn't even know it until I interviewed him!

Woke up at 7.  Sore.  Go back to sleep.

Woke up at 8. Cruddy dreams.  Sore. Go back to sleep.

Woke up at 9. Sore. Gotta decide what I’m doing today. Roll over. Sigh. Get up.

I want to rest today. I also want to update my blogs today. The library is downstream after 2 dams, and is only open 10-2 on Saturday (today). It’s already after 9. They offer free portage help around the dams, but how long will it take? If I go to the library, I’ll only have a few hours to work, then have to paddle to the next camp afterward because I’ve been warned it’s not safe to stay near the library. Post this quandary on FB, and immediately 2 friends remind me taking a rest day is more important than blogging. Sold! I’m staying at Pokegama, then. Immediate relief: I don’t have to pack my sleeping bags, take down my tent, figure anything out with the portaging people.  I can leisurely charge my phone and the solar battery with my solar charger.  I can plug my computer into the outside wall of the campsite building and work on typing my blog and editing my videos.  Then later I’ll head back to the pizza place and upload them as I take my time eating (yum) another pizza.  I’ve got a lovely view of the river, am enjoying the sound of the water spewing forth from the dam, and the little hummingbirds that squeak at me as they help themselves to the hummingbird feeders nearby.  

(Later):  SUCCESS!  LMNO P-ZA is a great place to grab a bite and a drink and do some blogging. 

I’ve had a few people ask for forwarding addresses to send care packages.  Keep in mind that I am really tight on space and would prefer not to have to carry anything extra with me.   But who doesn’t like mail!?  You can use the following two addresses:

(before Aug 1st)

Alyssum Pohl
c/o Brad Benn
4424 Judson Lane
Edina MN 55435

And

(before Aug 10th)

Alyssum Pohl
c/o Chris Carroll
22324 Holler Hill Lane
Winona, MN 55987

You can follow me at @alyssumpohl on instagram if you like. 

Sandy Bromenschenkel, texted me last night to say, “was that you passing by? You could have stayed here!” Well, shoot, I missed a great opportunity.  But not to worry; she very graciously and generously brought me some duct tape this morning so I could fix the Mama Raccoon damage on my deck bag, AND some freshly made pancakes (with local fresh blueberries and homemade maple syrup), eggs, lemonade, and strawberries.  What a treat!  She and I enjoyed a lovely morning breakfast together at the picnic table, me sharing my experience so far, her telling me stories of past paddlers that she’s hosted and met over the years.  It feels like a quest in a way.  Each person I meet has a little bit more information to share about what to expect in the upcoming days, and if I missed them, I’d miss out on the info.  For instance, I learned that I can probably get a portage around the dams in Grand Rapids, and that there’s a library right across and upstream from the put-in, where I can likely pitch my tent (and enjoy wifi!).  I think I might do that tonight/tomorrow.  I’m sitting on the dock at Schoolcraft right now.  Some young girls came and went for a quick swim as I was packing up my tent, mindful of my things strewn about the dock.  My phone is charging by the sun.  I’m rested and fed, and now it’s time for me to get packed up and head out.

As I packed up, a young boy and his father came through, to go fishing.  They returned with 3 walleye before I left, and I had a chance to talk with them about my project.  The young boy, Danny, was super congenial and appreciated the plastic ball I gave him (found floating on the river last night) and a couple stickers. The young ladies came back too, more numerous this time, and they were super excited about my project.  I learned they were councilors (Megan, Mary and Josey) from Camp Foley.  They all excitedly asked questions and when I shoved off, they let out a great cheer for me, and shouts of encouragement.  Whoo hoo, what a great send-off!

I paddled 18 miles today, still a long day, and especially long after 26 miles yesterday (my longest so far).  I paddled a lot with my eyes closed, and slumped forward on my deck bag or leaned back on my deck several times for a quick cat nap.  Each time, I started in the center of the river, flowing slowly forward, but woke up lodged in the reeds, still.  It was one of those I-feel-like-I’m-only-using-a-cereal-spoon days.  To exacerbate the feeling of are-we-there-yet?, when I reached the lake on which the Grand Rapids Power Plant is located, the lake was choked with reeds, meaning that what could have been a 2 mile paddle straight across became a multiple mile switch-back paddle as I followed the widest part of the river.  Half-way through the lake, my phone rang, and I gladly used the opportunity to take a rest.  It was a journalist from the Lexington Herald-Leader.  I have to admit, I’ll never get tired of taking “official” business-type calls in the wilderness!  

I also did my first water collection sample for Adventurers and Scientists for Conservation today.  I will be collecting 1L water samples approximately every 100 miles, which I will send to their lab.  They will dry out the sample, burn off the organic material, and use a microscope to take a look at what sort of microplastics are present.  Microbeads?  Filaments?  More on this to come...

I also received a tip from a river angel, Jim, that the campsite at Pokegama (above Grand Rapids) was safer than the library.  Again, an excuse to stop early.  Check!  When I arrived, a very nice man offered his son’s campsite as a place to pitch my tent since the campsite was full.  Again, thank you!  The campground officer, Colin (same guy that helped Dave Roberts on Lake Winnie a few weeks ago) helped me locate wifi nearby.  So I walked half a mile to the LMNOP-za pizza place where I used wifi for ½ hr to check email before they closed.  And enjoyed a whole 10” pizza.

Today was the 2nd day in a row that I skipped my planned campsite and went straight on to the next. Last week, when my deltoids stopped working, another muscle group would work until failure, and so on until paddling felt like I was just stirring soup with a spoon and nothing more.  Today, when my deltoids felt tired, I felt a strong lower back kicking in, I felt alternate postures and handle-grips working their magic.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m still super sore and should probably not push it too hard over the next few days, but I do feel like I’m getting better at this!

Leaving Crazy James’ campsite, I felt like it was my duty to record the spot (on instagram) since I would normally think it was quite beautiful.  I did my best, but the mosquitos were thick, and so was the poison ivy.  I was trying to get out of there as fast as possible.  Along the river today, I continued listening to Harry Potter and the methods of Rationality—it’s a good keep-paddling-method, listening to a story.  I saw more than 10 bald eagles, and an otter bouncing on a sand bar, and a bunch more rodents (can’t ever tell if they’re otter, beaver, or muskrats) swimming.  The kingfisher are not enormous anymore, but they’re still plentiful.  Goldfinch have started making an appearance, and at night I hear bullfrogs (I think not native?) in addition to the greenfrogs (which sound like knocks on wood).  

At one point, I paddled by a homestead, marked by hand-hewn fences, and out popped a man, who seemed to have a 6th sense for paddlers coming through (I usually sneak up on wildlife! But he was immediately out to greet me).  It was George Hawkins, one of the Mississippi River Paddlers river angels, and he offered me a new handle to make portaging easier (yay!), some peanut butter and dehydrated eggs (to make up for the nuts and eggs that Mama Raccoon stole yesterday), and some of his gorgeous beaded handiwork! He's of native descent (Leech Lake band of Ojibiwe, bear clan, eagle spirit) and works with super tiny beads and his own designs.  He lost his daughter in an accident earlier this year, and I think I reminded him of her a little bit, at least in adventuresome spirit.  I will think of him and his daughter fondly every time I wear the earrings.  He was so encouraging.  “You’re doing great.  There are people who gave up on this journey before here.  You just stay healthy and keep those bug bites and poison ivy under control and you’ll be okay.  I think one man stopped not far from here because he said his legs looked like tapioca.  You gotta dry the poison ivy out, and keep from scratching the bug bites.  You’ll be fine.”  The earrings are made in the image of James Earle Fraser's "End of the Trail" sculpture, which depicts a Native American on horseback, returning from battle.  It is meant to represent the strength of the Native, their spirituality, their medicine as they transformed, proudly, into the next century. George suggested that he meant it for me as encouragement that I would definitely reach the "end of the trail," and that I had his blessing. In his words, "it stands for 'never give up.' The horse and rider are dead tired and still stand to fight."  I asked how long he had lived there on the river, and he said, “6 generations”!  It's the ancestral land of one of the seven native sisters who made a bluster and were granted the land by the POTUS at the time.

I interviewed George, and it turns out in 4th grade, he and some classmates were the kids that came up with “Give a hoot, don’t pollute”!!  I think that’s so cool!  He’s my hero, and I met him! (interview coming soon)  I enjoyed chatting with him on the river bank a while longer.  He set me up with some pool noodle as paddle grips for my aching hands (a wider grip to relax my arthritic hands), and I was off.  


The deer flies were really bad on the water today, so I wore my head net during the 2nd half of the day. I paddled on all the way to Schoolcraft State Park, just past Deer River where I arrived just before 10pm.  I had just barely enough light to set up my tent, and then it was dark.  The humming mosquitos swarming outside my tent lulled me to sleep.