"You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows." - Bob Dylan
I was up early and smiled at the calm river before me. The leaves barely rippled on the trees as I pushed off from camp and paddled a few miles south. Those moments before sunrise are some of my finest each day. Favoring the route less traveled and attracted by the name "Steamboat Slough", I followed this channel southbound. Nearing it's outlet, 1 ft waves were propelling at me up river. I couldn't square the reason until I realized the light breezes blowing up the 4 miles of channel here had funneled the rollers against the current. The breeze had picked up to the promised 20 mph winds which sent whitecaps and spray across the bow. I ran afoul of some wide old stumps submerged in the grassy shoal. Arriving in Princeton, I took liberty to fill my water jugs and visit the library to update this blog. Walking out of the air conditioned building, the heat hit me. Man, it warmed up quick. The forecast was for heat Indicies around 100 but combined with the wind made it feel like sitting in front of a heater.
I was up early and smiled at the calm river before me. The leaves barely rippled on the trees as I pushed off from camp and paddled a few miles south. Those moments before sunrise are some of my finest each day. Favoring the route less traveled and attracted by the name "Steamboat Slough", I followed this channel southbound. Nearing it's outlet, 1 ft waves were propelling at me up river. I couldn't square the reason until I realized the light breezes blowing up the 4 miles of channel here had funneled the rollers against the current. The breeze had picked up to the promised 20 mph winds which sent whitecaps and spray across the bow. I ran afoul of some wide old stumps submerged in the grassy shoal. Arriving in Princeton, I took liberty to fill my water jugs and visit the library to update this blog. Walking out of the air conditioned building, the heat hit me. Man, it warmed up quick. The forecast was for heat Indicies around 100 but combined with the wind made it feel like sitting in front of a heater.
The headwind made paddling a trying affair. Huge rollers were capping out in the main channel. A barge pushed a huge wake ahead of itself while Jet Skis jumped the stern wake. The cross waves from other boat traffic is particularly interesting when perpendicular to the current and standing waves. Let's just say it was an interesting paddle. I stopped to rest and treat my cut, had lunch of cucumber, fish, bread, crackers, banana and peanut butter then placed a lone Swedish fish on the bow cover for energy later. Sure enough, gusts to 25 came out of the south building the water up. This ripples danced across the water towards me like a foreshadowing of the unavoidable. The gusts could wrench the paddle back on a stroke despite the feathered blades. It was all I could do to paddle forward yet I felt this sense of comfort and oneness with the boat and muttered a saying or two of respect to the great river itself. Glancing at the shore, I realized I was barely moving forward, perhaps 1 mph. I pictured myself sitting on the street with wheels trying to paddle this thing down the road. No doubt I would be in Davenport by now!
I took another rest on what I'll call Broken Bottle Beach. 3 hours passed and the waves seemed only slightly less menacing. It was more the level of effort and lack of gain that made me sit out the afternoon. Headwinds are a bitch. Setting out a final time, I knew it was only 5 miles or so to Lock 14 and depending on the wind after this bend, I may make it.
Passing a dock, I notice a man working on a chop saw and a woman with her dog on the dock. He yells something but all I hear is "windy" as his shouts are swept northward. I paddle over and George introduced himself and daughter Kate. He offered me a place to camp for the night on the grass or a bed inside. I was considering moving on but when his wife Jodie offered cod for dinner, I knew I was settling in for the night. Oh I've got a couple cod stories... It was fabulous hearing about Jodie's birdwatching and paddling on the river in her Perception kayak. George continued working on the deck until the sun faded and he had to call it quits. Over a beer, George explained all the unusual contrivances people have passed here on; rafts, paddle boats, canoes, kayaks, sailboats. The two women were setting down to play Rumikub, a game I learned from some girls in Spanish on a beach in Mexico while not completely in my right mind. Sure I'll play! We had a fun time chatting and stayed up later than we should have judging by our yawning mouths. It was a memorable stop and another example of the great kindness and open nature of people on this fine river.
Oh, the strawberry shortcake is worth a detour if you're ever in Le Claire, Iowa facing a headwind.
Oh, the strawberry shortcake is worth a detour if you're ever in Le Claire, Iowa facing a headwind.