The morning was cool and a fog swirled over the water. I pushed off from camp and enjoyed the current helping me along. Paddling through the islands near camp was a great way to start the day.
I got on the water early because I saw high winds in the forecast for the afternoon. It would be nice if they were in my favor but they were blowing against me and made paddling difficult. I was taking it easy though and stopped a few times for coffee or oatmeal.
By the time I had made it to Sartell, my mind was made up...I was getting a hamburger! The portage was much longer than the advertised 600 yards and likely about 1/2 miles or more. Along the way, I made a detour to the Riverboat Depot, a bar and restaurant with a dark interior and a crowd of Friday afternoon regulars enjoying beers and shooting the shit. They all kind of stared as I walked in wearing my PFD. Should have left that in the boat but it has all my small items in it. The waitress was very nice and I ordered a California Burger, the thought of vegetables seeming so crunchy, crispy and healthy. When it arrived, I was shocked at the size and enthusiastic about stuffing it down...so much so that my photo shows it half eaten.
I was 29 years old before I took my boat to the bar.
I was 29 years old before I took my boat to the bar.
After the burger, I was feeling full of energy. My stomach rumbled a few times as a result of the quantity of items inside but I didn't pay it no mind. The remainder of the portage was along a sidewalk and wasn't too terrible. It felt good to be back in the water again downstream of the big bridge. Way up in the distance you can see the Sartel Dam that I portaged around.
Back on the water, the wind had died down a bit but was still making some chop on long straight sections. I paddled on renewed by the big meal and the lowering sun angle as the afternoon progressed. Soon I arrived in Sauk Rapids, so named for the river feature on the right side where a number of boulders and a bend in the river can make for a terrible crossing. Fortunately I had information from Zach to take a path to the left side of the bridge, left of the island then to cut right and avoid the boulders before taking a path to river left. This was a lifesaver as I passed through Sauk without much difficulty. Nope...nobody saw me hang up on a boulder and get spun backwards... All a fun time as I had the boat under control (mostly). After Sauk Rapids, it was a windy paddle through St. Cloud. There were a few motorboats about and one guy in a sport boat that kept doing laps up and down the river. I stopped counting after the fourth lap past. I imagined the girl riding in the passenger seat was getting bored of it too. The wake would toss me around a bit but there wasn't much else to do but keep paddling. I figured I could count it as training for upcoming barge wakes and whatnot. The canoe handled well and the St. Cloud dam quickly loomed into sight. It wasn't a very hard portage since it was mostly paved...that is until I came to the end of the portage where a steep flight of stairs greeted me. After a long day of paddling, that is not exactly what I had in mind. I removed my two bags and carried them down the 50 or more stairs then headed back up to the canoe. This would take a few trips. Rounding the top of the stairs, I notice a guy about 20 feet from my boat. When he sees me, he quickly stoops down and starts inspecting a flower. Something is suspicious about this. "If it looks like a duck..." Rather than assuming that he was going to steal something from my canoe, I give him an overwhelmingly hearty "Howdy! How's it going friend?" to which he sort of stammers "I...I was following the PORTAGE signs and wanted to see where they went." The thought occurred to me. "Say, I'm paddling the river and I just came to this steep flight of stairs. Could you help me carry my canoe down? I'd be most obliged." A smile graced his face and he jumped at the change to help. "Oh yes my brother. I'd be happy to help. Happy." He grabbed the stern handle and I the front and we both started on down the steep wood stairs. What luck!? I went slow and he was a good sport about the whole thing. I kept thanking him as we neared the water and were soon on the downstream beach. We were both dripping sweat now in the later afternoon sunlight. I told him I'd give him some granola bars or something as a thank you but he politely declined. He said it was one of the holy days of Ramadan and that he was fasting. I asked if that meant he could eat after sunset and he seemed surprised that I knew that. I asked him what he liked to eat when he could and we talked about small samosas his wife would make, fried fish and many other dishes he struggled to find the English names for. He asked how old I was and we were both 29. His life is much different than my own but I'd like to think after talking to him for a little bit, he may not have been the thief I had suspected. I gave him my website and he said he would look me up. He accepted my request to take his picture. As I paddled away, I called that he only had about an hour left until sunset, to which he nodded and waved. Everything is not always as it seems.
Immediately after the St. Cloud dam are the Beaver Islands, a selection of sandy islands with shallow rocky channels in between them. I had heard there was camping here and figured I'd find a spot with some evidence of human use. Sure enough, I round a bend and spot a stick straight into a sandy island, a marker of some sort. I paddle nearer into the narrow channel and come to a small campfire and a few rock chairs. This is the neatest little island campsite I've seen. The scent of woodsmoke drifts from the smoldering remains of a recent and very hot fire. The ashes are white and there remains no wood left to burn...likely burning drift wood. I set up my tent on the flat sand and stuck a cup on the fire for some tea. The sun set quickly and the sound of birds filled the air over the undercurrent of the babbling stream. This river has so many faces to show.