Avid Canoeist Chronicles : 2004-09-16 Exploring Saint Louis River in Carlton Minnesota

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2004-09-16 Exploring Saint Louis River in Carlton Minnesota

2004-09-16 SL RL 1 St. Louis River in my C1 racer

There’s a whitewater raft rental place in Carlton where Hwy 46 crosses the St. Louis River. It was the closest place to get to the river from Cloquet where I had been at a 2 day meeting. Since the current didn’t look too threatening, I got in my SSS-180 Gene Jensen designed and built racing solo canoe and headed upstream. I am proud to have NORTHWESTCANOE.COM stenciled on the sides of this sleek looking canoe, even though everyone is confused why one side is right-side-up and the other is right-side-down. That is because the canoe spends a lot of time on top of my van and I want the sign to be readable to other drivers and pedestrians. I regularly exchange canoe stories with Al Gustafson who owns and operates the canoe building and repair company in downtown Saint Paul. Very few people would see the sign today, even though it was bright and sunny with a slight breeze.

The St. Louis was deep enough that my paddle didn’t hit bottom here and dark enough so you could only see the rocky bottom close to shore where it was shallow. Streamers of dark green vegetation waved in the current. Passing under the highway bridge, I scared a few pigeons off their perch on the sunny southern side of the bridge. They seemed confused by a canoe going upstream. I get that a lot. I am thankful that I have rediscovered the now all-but-lost secret that it is not as hard to paddle upstream as you might think. As long as you stay out of the main current and use the backwater eddies whenever you can. I’m sure that most canoe travelers knew this a few hundred years ago, but nowadays, even very experienced canoeists think I’m crazy for paddling upstream. It sure saves a lot of problems with shuttling cars, especially if you don’t have anyone else along.

Just upstream from the bridge was a large channel coming in from the left and I decided to leave that for later and continued up the right channel. Next, another channel came in on my left so I knew I had just passed a large island. Above that channel, another small island of black slate, about 5 feet tall and 20 feet in diameter, jutted above the surface. I was approaching a dam up ahead and decided to cross to the right shore and explore the steep and jagged slate cliffs. I dragged stepped out of the canoe onto the broken black rocks of all sizes and dragged the canoe up far enough to keep the unpredictable gusts of wind from taking it. Climbing up the 15 feet, I surveyed the river above the dam. It would be a difficult portage, but I could see that you could paddle a lot further upstream above the dam. I took a short hike in the woods clothed in their yellowing autumn leaves instead. Getting to places less traveled by the masses is one of the reasons I love canoeing.

Getting back to the canoe, I slid the sleek canoe in the water as far out from the hull-gouging rocks as possible. As I tried to step into the narrow racing canoe, a strong gust of wind pulled it further away from shore than I expected. I suddenly found myself in the dreaded comedic straddle with one foot on shore, one foot in the canoe, and both feet too far apart. The wind’s pull on the canoe was too strong to pull it back without pulling a groin muscle. Since I couldn’t step back on shore without falling in and didn’t have much time to think, I decided to risk jumping sideways into the canoe. I must have known instinctively that landing as low in the canoe as possible was my best shot at keeping dry. Throwing both feet forward, my butt onto the seat and my arms out sideways, I tried to land as flat on my back as possible. The gunwales hit the back of my biceps at almost he same time as my butt hit the seat. My left foot missed and went over the gunwale and into the water. My right arm dipped in the cold water briefly and then the unbelievably stable racing canoe leveled back out.

I laughed out loud as I sat up because I couldn’t believe that my desperate gamble had worked. Still, it must have looked foolish enough to please the spirits that had caused nature to play the trick on me. The spirits may have been slightly disappointed this time, but I had surely made them laugh enough other times and no doubt would many more times, which could just be why I’m still alive at the ripe old age of forty-nine.

My challenge wasn’t quite over yet because the canoe was quickly gliding towards the whitewater current shooting out below the dam gateway a few feet away and I had to scramble to get my paddle in hand and take control of the canoe. I braced the blade on the surface as the narrow bow entered into the strong perpendicular current and made it through. Crossing back to the west shore below the dam, I headed back downstream.

Turning upstream into the first channel, I discovered that it was a very shallow overspill as my blade struck on the hard rock bottom. I had to do some strong sweeps to turn the bow into the strong upstream current as I came into what was actually the main channel of the river below another dam. Fighting my way into another backwater eddy, I let the current carry me within a canoe length of the huge concrete dam gateway below the big yellow “WARNING STAY BACK” sign. Again the canoe handled very well in the strong sideways current and I turned back downstream. As I passed a lone fisherman with grey hair, he said “You were pretty brave to get so close to the dam!” I didn’t know what to say in response because it hadn’t seemed that brave and because I know there’s a very fine and wavering dotted line between bravery and stupidity.

Again working on my technique, I focused on smooth twisting torso reaches without leaning forward. I quickened my stroke and had to sweep several times to cut between the two outermost vertical log stumps at the edge of a small forest of them where the two main channels joined. Again I was pleased with how this strange looking racing canoe handled. When I had talked to Gene Jensen before I bought it, he had said that it was one of his favorite canoe designs and I can see why. “SSS stands for Speed, Steering, and Stability”, he had said. It surely does have those qualities.

Going further downstream than where I had put in, I crossed under a second concrete bridge with a big sign saying “DANGEROUS RAPIDS AHEAD”. The water was low enough that the rapids had exposed rocks and I drifted as close to the top of the rapids as I dared without being swept into them. I could have gone down this set of rapids without a problem, even without back-paddling, but the gradient coming back upstream would have been a real challenge. So I did several sweeps and a back-paddle or two to turn back upstream and headed back to the van. This was yet another worthwhile canoe experience that I can share with you by writing this. One of my objectives in writing this is to inspire you to get on the water, to hone your own paddling skills, and to accumulate your own memories of interacting with nature. If it doesn’t do that, I hope you at least find it enjoyable to read.