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Get Outside and discover a new outdoor activity, this month’s feature;
A weekend on the Mighty Mississippi:
Written By : David Stinnett
The
year was half over and I’d taken only one day of vacation. I was aching to
get out of town and a paddling trip (especially one I didn’t have to plan)
was just the ticket. Ed McAlister was organizing a trip down a twisty 50
mile section of the Mississippi River about half way between St. Louis and
Memphis. At first this appealed to me about as much as doing a bicycle tour
down the shoulder of I40. I had in my mind an industrial trench filled with
muddy water, commercial barges, and baking under the summer sun. However I
was willing to take a chance and just go with the flow, literally and
figuratively. I am sure glad I did, because it exceeded my expectations in
every way.
Ed assembled a group of 8 paddlers of varying experience. We would have 7 singles and one tandem. From Knoxville there was Ed, Laura, Jenny and myself. The world famous Tubbo would be coming down from Lexington KY. He was the tandem pilot and cook for the 2 dinners and breakfasts on the river. Mark, an outdoorsman, paddler, and mountain climber drove from Boulder CO to meet us there. Then there was Micky and his son teenage son X from Union City TN. They would be coming along and also serve as hosts for our first night. We carpooled the 6 hour drive to Union City on Thursday afternoon. Arriving just at dusk, we proceeded to the nearest eating establishment to get our fill of the new Baconator. This wasn’t health food but typical fare for a small west Tennessee town where the sight of cars loaded with sea kayaks was akin to a freak parade. We spent the night camped indoors in Micky’s house. We sat about that night exchanging tales of previous adventures. It was apparent that I was going to spend the next three days with an entertaining gang.
The next morning we stopped for last minute provisions before driving the 13 miles north to the put-in at Hickman, KY. As we set off from the calm inlet that was the port of Hickman, I nervously checked my spray skirt and made sure everything was tied down. The fishermen that just pulled in as we were packing warned of a “hole” just ahead. Would we all be sucked into a whirlpool 5 minutes into the trip? I had found out the previous night that the locals stay away from this river. Sure it was dangerous but could the stories all be true? First you have to worry about getting sucked under at wing dikes. If you survive those, barge wakes capsize small pleasure craft, especially small kayaks loaded top heavy with coolers and camping gear. As we rounded the corner and merged into the main channel, I shot across the “hole” (a little turbulence that didn’t require much correction). The first thing I noticed was this river is heading somewhere with a vengeance (200,000 C.F.S). Am I going to even need to paddle on this journey? The GPS says 3 mph without even wetting the paddle. Once in the flow, it was like escaping the troubles of the world. The shoreline was lined with sandbars and leafy trees. The hot summer sun was tempered with continuous cooling breezes. We paddled for over an hour before seeing the first sign of any life. There was a calmness that came over me as I realized that we will not only survive but even enjoy this trip.
That day we did 15 miles before setting up camp on a vast wind blown sand bar just north of the Tennessee border. I decided to go for a swim but I couldn’t convince anyone else to join me. I find out later that they were staking claims to my gear in likely event that I am pulled under the sandbar with a wicked undertow. I was able to actually make progress against the current but I decided it was best to stay near the shore. Earlier in the day I had witnessed the intensity of the invasive Asian Carp in these waters. I was slightly worried that I would be mistaken for food and be gnawed to death by their tiny teeth.
Despite the stove that didn’t work, Tubbo still managed to prepare and excellent dinner consisting of steak and potatoes. It was easy to find plenty of dry driftwood on the sand bar and before long we were cooking over hot coals. The sunset capped a perfect day on the water. Even the dreaded sand flies and mosquitoes that we had been warned of stayed away due to the constant breeze. Later on it seemed as if the barges all decided to travel by night. It is a surreal experience to be woken up by their massive engines and powerful spotlights searching the banks for who knows what. I lie awake thinking about the river that I’d heard about since I was old enough to read about Huck Finn. It was a surprise to find it so untapped with recreational users. It was sort of like finally going to Rome and finding you are the only tourist at the Coliseum. I put in my earphones and cranked up the Ryan Adams as I drifted in and out of a much needed sleep.
The next day we awoke to another perfect day of clear skies and gentle winds. The paddling was easy for the most part as we slipped past miles and miles of undeveloped land. At one point we found ourselves out of the main channel and ended up doing a mini-portage thru a sandbar to keep from backtracking. It was decided at our lunch stop that we would stop at the upcoming town for some much needed ice and treats. Nearing the town we spotted some fishermen in a boat and asked about details of the town. I was surprised when I heard them say that in all the years they have lived there, we were the first people they had seen paddling on the river. We arrived at the charming little town of New Madrid set on a bluff above a bend in the river. A few of us set out on a short walk only to be picked up on the levee road by a pickup truck (hint, it helps to have some females along when you are looking for a lift). A few blocks later we were loading up on everything that we could carry back to the boats and then some. New Madrid is famous for the geological fault of the same name that has produced the largest earthquakes in the recorded history of the US. Everything was calm that day as we relaxed in the shade at small park overlooking the river.
It was a short trip from there to our camp for the night. We had traveled about 20 miles that day and again I braved the water for a refreshing swim. The sandbar for this night was even better than the previous night with sand the consistency of fine baby powder. With the wind it was like having our own private beach in the Caribbean! We were again treated to a stunning sunset followed by a peaceful night nearly devoid of barges.
The next day we had about 15 miles to the landing at Tiptonville. At the end of paddling trips I am usually ready to get off the water. This time I could have stood a few more days like the ones we had. I will definitely be back!
We’ve got the gear for your next excursion, canyoneering, kayaking, hiking, backpacking, camping, biking, or what ever it may be; http://www.riversportsoutfitters.com online and Riversports Outfitters retail store at;
2918 Sutherland Ave
Knoxville, TN 37919
865-523-0066
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