This blustery late fall Saturday morning with temperature in the mid thirties and an overcast sky is the dividing line between normal racing canoeists and those with a serious paddling addiction.   There are only about eight people in the Twin Cities who have such an addiction and five of us showed up at the Anoka Fairgrounds boat landing at 10 AM to enjoy the weather.  The same desperation that drives the beavers to cut more trees and muskrats to build thicker mud dwellings drives the addicted paddlers in Minnesota.  We all have to plan for a long winter of hibernation, or at least of not paddling as much as we do in the summer. 

Keith Canny and Lee Jarpey took their tandem racing canoe and Ed Arenz, Dave Dahl, and Rick Lorenzen each took C1 solo racing canoes.  The cold wind was so strong, that it was hard to control the solo canoes once we pulled them off the racks on our vehicles. The wind tried to force the canoes sideways as we tromped carelessly over the field of goose droppings toward the river.  At least the five of us are paddling together so we can rescue each other if anyone tips over in the cold water.  Most of us had boots with felt liners and were otherwise overdressed on the first real cold weather day. 

Soon after we started, I was sweating and had to peel off some layers.  It wasn’t long before my polar fleece gloves were wet and my fingers were numb from the cold, but my feet were toasty warm thanks to the felt liners.  A never ending stream of yellow maple leaves tumbled in the icy current and grabbed for our bows like drowning shipwreck victims.  We bounced our solo canoes to clear the leaves every few minutes.  I remembered Al Dubois saying that it was better training to leave the leaves on the bow and let them stay a little longer than I would have otherwise.  It was also good to see the water spraying off the bow because you knew you were moving the canoe well.

We passed several fishermen bundled in their boats trying to get the last day on the water before they put them away.  There was a pontoon boat moored to a dock with motors running that filled the brisk wind with gasoline fumes. Several trees were freshly chewed by a beaver and Keith told pointed to a spot on the bank where he and Lee had seen a huge beaver stand up and scold them as they approached.  When it finally took to the water, they were concerned that it might attack.  Unfortunately, it didn’t because that would have made a better story.

Each of the solo canoes took a turn riding the side wake of Keith and Lee’s tandem canoe and trying not to get sucked in when the bow inevitably pointed just a bit too far in the direction of the tandem.  At one particular bend in the river, I was on the outside riding on the tandem’s side wake and Dave was on my left.   Lee and Keith kept going straight instead of making the turn and I had all I could do to keep my bow from hitting the side of their canoe because I had thought they were going to stay near shore.  I asked them where they were going and Keith said that his stern paddler didn’t seem concerned so he just kept paddling straight ahead.  Sometimes a bow paddler has to let the stern paddler figure out what will happen if they don’t do any steering corrections so they learn to steer better by getting the feedback. 

Several lively discussions ensued when canoes stuck together, and none of them were resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.  There was disagreement about how much room the outside canoe has to allow for the inside canoes when approaching a sweeper sticking out in the river.  The answer is complicated by who is ahead and how far ahead they are in relation to the inside canoe.  Apparently, some people’s perceptions differ about how far ahead they are of the other canoe and how much room they actually allowed.   Since this particular group of canoeists knows each other very well, there were words exchanged that were almost heated, which were actually a welcome distraction from the cold wind.

There are rules of etiquette followed by skilled canoe racers that have evolved over time.  Keith, one of the esteemed elders of Minnesota canoe racing, said he gives the inside canoe room when approaching an obstacle, “but not much room”.  He also said that Steve Peterson, an extremely well respected and accomplished canoe racer, believes that the leading canoe has the right to go where the best water is, but does not have the right to purposely cut in front of wake riding canoes just to keep them from passing.  That belief may not be shared by all top racing canoeists, but it is probably shared by the more universally respected top racing canoeists.

When we finally made it to the sandbar island, I pulled over and out of the cold wind close to shore just downstream from the island to get a drink, change to dry gloves, and put my windbreaker back on for the trip back.  Generally, canoe racers like to keep moving, especially on cold days and you have to be timely on how you take your breaks so you don’t slow up the pack or get left behind.  If racers do stop for a lunch, you have to be alert for the first click of a cooler because that signals the pack to get moving and it’s not more than a minute or two after that click before they are under way again.

Going downstream, we saw, and heard, flights of geese on their way south, and some on the river were a bit skittish.  A beaver startled Lee by slapping the water next to his canoe and nearly splashing him.  It could well have been the same one that threatened them before.   We all landed, but Dave did his customary buoy turn and was blown further downstream than he wanted as he turned sideways to the wind.  We quickly loaded canoes, changed to dry clothes, and stopped at a nearby coffee shop afterwards with tousled hair, flushed faces, and cold hands.  The warm drinks heated our hands and our bellies as we discussed how the government should be run.

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Copyright 2004 Rick Lorenzen
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