Kayaking the Lakes of South Dakota

Annual SDCKA Conference

2012-01-23T20:12:00.000-08:00

The following notice is taken from the SDCKA website (http://sdcka.blogspot.com). "The SD Canoe & Kayak Association will be hosting its annual conference on Saturday, January 28, 2012 at The Outdoor Campus in Sioux Falls from noon to 4:00 PM this Saturday, January 28."

"The conference will include presentations on waterways, safety, and conservation along with booths featuring various vendors. There will also be a short business meeting to elect new board members for 2012. Contact Steven at dahlmeis@hotmail.com if you're interested in joining the board."

I hope that readers of this blog will be drawn to the conference. The presentations will be both interesting and encouraging for area paddlers. Even though we are now deep into winter, it is only eight weeks or so before we might hope to get in the first cruising of the season. This is also a great time to network with other paddlers and to form relationships that will grow into common cruising experiences. I hope to see many of you at the Outdoor Campus in Sioux Falls on Saturday, January 28.

Following Along on a Transantarctic Ski Trek

2011-12-04T16:23:00.000-08:00

One of the adventure blogs that I am following daily is called Kaspersky ONE Transantarctic Expedition. Felicity Aston, a 33-year old female explorer from the UK, is in the process of skiing across Antarctica on a 1700 km, 70 day, expedition that includes passing through the South Pole. Her blog includes an interactive map, which can be activated to follow her daily progress. She provides daily tweets and periodic audio up-dates. Today is Day 10 of the trek, and she has provided three audio clips describing her situation and the landscape. You can join me in following along on her trek at the following URL: http://www.kasperskyonetransantarcticexpedition.com/

It seems that I need to be a vicarious participant on some adventure like this. Now that the two women from St. Olaf College have completed their trip from the Twin Cities to Hudson Bay and Roz Savage has completed her rowing adventure across the Indian Ocean, this is an adventure that I will continue following for the next couple of months - the Antarctic summer.

New Hiking Sioux Falls Blog Developed

2011-12-01T19:34:00.000-08:00

Even though we don’t yet have any snow on the ground here in Sioux Falls, ice has formed on the area lakes and rivers. For me, the kayaking season has closed for 2011. I have taken the rack off the car and put all my kayak gear up in the attic above the garage. It will be about four months before water is open in this part of the state again.

Kayaking is just one of my outdoor activities. I actually spend much more time hiking in the large parks and nature areas around Sioux Falls than I do in the kayak. Also, when the bike trail is open, I try to circle the city on the 20-mile bike trail at least once a week.

The city of Sioux Falls operates about 75 parks, some of which offer great hiking opportunities. In addition, the state manages several nature or recreational areas that provide just wonderful pathways through the woods and along rivers and streams. Many of these hiking possibilities are relatively unknown by most people, and I have long thought about developing another blog to describe the parks and nature/recreational areas that are in or near the city.

So, the new blog is ready, and I intend for it to be a companion to my kayaking blog. I have used the same format and offer photographs and narrative remarks about these hiking opportunities. I intend for this blog, much like my kayaking blog, to be an annotated inventory of hiking possibilities in and around Sioux Falls. Over the months, I will continually add fresh content. Hiking observations will include repeat visits to capture changes with the seasons.

You can access this new blog at the following URL: http://hikingsiouxfalls.blogspot.com

Split Rock Creek: Upstream from McHardy Park, Brandon

2011-11-13T12:02:00.000-08:00

As winter slowly descends upon the northern plains, the desire for last cruises of the season increases to a fever pitch. Directors of the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association have been leading cruises at least once a week over the past month or so along area streams. I joined the group yesterday for a paddle up Split Rock Creek from McHardy Park in Brandon.

The group assembled at 1:00 p.m. at the park under very favorable conditions: sunny skies, light wind, and a temperature in the 50s. Eight of us launched our kayaks with the intention of paddling upstream to a point where we felt like returning – a loose plan to fit whatever conditions we found.

The water at the “put-in” was only two to three feet deep and the depth was good most of the way upstream, ranging from one to perhaps four feet deep. The creek was normally 50 to 60 feet wide; the course of the creek was like most rivers and creeks in the area with usually a shallow side with depth sometimes only a few inches and then a deeper side that generally follows the channel under the higher cut-banks. There has not been significant rain in the area for several weeks, and I am continually surprised to see that the creeks and rivers are maintaining enough flow to support kayak travel, especially this late in the season.

The flow of the creek was steady, and we were easily able to paddle upstream. We ran into no problems for the first couple of miles. The final stretch of our three-mile upstream paddle presented situations where the creek narrowed with a shallow section extending along one side and a channeled section with increased velocity of flow on the other. When the flow of a body of water is constricted, the velocity increases and a set of riffles or rapids forms.

The problem for paddlers is that there are sometimes submerged rocks in that rapid flow that are invisible. Going downstream provides the likelihood of just sliding over the rocks. Paddling upstream through this sort of slot presents the possibility of becoming caught on such a rock, sometimes in water that is two or three feet deep. Losing balance can easily cause the kayak to slide sideways and spill the paddler into the flow.

About two and a-half miles into the paddle, we ran into such a set of riffles. Getting through required powerful paddling and luck, and one of the party just had the bad luck of sliding off a rock. She did a wet-exit and was able to wade out of the situation. She was well prepared and had a dry bag under the hatch; she was able to just change her clothing and continue on. My experience a couple of weeks ago capsizing on the Big Sioux River was enough to prompt me into taking the short portage around the riffles.

We continued upstream for another half mile or so until we came to another long stretch of rocks and riffles and decided to turn around and make our way back to the “put-in” at McHardy Park.

This part of Split Rock Creek runs along the Brandon golf course. We exchanged greetings with some guys riding in their golf carts along the bank. I think that they were looking for a lost golf ball that probably was on the creek bottom.

The paddle yesterday was another opportunity to enjoy the shared experience of being on the water. All of us were feeling good that we were still kayaking in mid-November. Many of these trips conclude with the group going somewhere to laugh it up and enjoy the successful conclusion of another outing, and this group went on to the Dairy Queen in Brandon.

Seeing yet again another kayak capsize emphasized the need to be with others while traveling on moving waters, especially in cold conditions. In addition, lifejackets, extra clothing, a spare paddle, a bilge pump, and a strap for glasses are essential items to be carried. Tipping over in cold moving water can be quite a shock, and whatever precautions possible should be taken to minimize the risk.

I am going to leave the kayak rack on my car for a while yet. Another opportunity for a cruise may present itself over the next week or so. The season, though, is just about over here in the Sioux Falls area. Ice will be forming on the lakes very soon, and the rivers and creeks will follow soon there after.

Moonlight Cruise Through the Palisades

2011-11-12T14:12:00.001-08:00

Over the summer, Dave and Mary Finck have led several moonlit cruises through the palisades along Split Rock Creek, and last night I joined them. The forecast looked good for an evening paddle; the temperature was about 50 degrees at 5:15 p.m. with the sun setting when I left my eastside Sioux Falls home for the drive to Garretson. Six paddlers gathered at the launching point, and we set off upstream in total darkness about 6:15 p.m. with the temperature then in the low 40s.

The sky was clear as we moved upstream; a rising full moon illuminated the silhouettes of bare trees along the right side, the big dipper was visible low on the left side, and the Cassiopeia constellation was directly above us. The rising moon illuminated the high quartzite cliffs along the left bank so that their reflection was cast upon the surface of the creek.

The creek is about 150 feet wide above the Garretson dam and the water is deep enough so that we weren’t too worried about rocks. Even with our night vision and the illumination from the moon and stars, the sight line on the surface of the water limited vision of the other kayaks to about 25 feet or less. The shoreline and silhouette of the trees and cliffs, however, were clear, and navigation was easy.

The kayaks tended to move in a tighter group than would normally be the case. I think that we all wanted to be in sight of other boats. Although photography was really a “point and shoot” process in the dark, every time I stopped and tried to capture an image, the other boats would move out of sight. As the temperature dropped, my fingers became increasingly numb, despite the leather gloves that I was wearing. I could only fumble at my camera when trying to turn it on or point it. The viewfinder was useless; it was totally black.

As the group moved downstream toward the “take-out,” I saw droplets of water from the paddle strokes of those ahead of me gleaming in the moonlight like miniature lights at the tip of the paddle blades. The sounds of the night were especially interesting to me as we moved along in the dark; we heard a turkey gobbling deep in the woods along the left bank on the return trip. We could hear distant sounds of vehicles passing on Highway 11and once we heard the far off wail of a siren. I think that my senses were especially alert in this environment of darkness on the water.

We spent about an hour and a half on the water, and by then the temperature had dropped into the 30s; ice had formed on the hull of many of the kayaks, the first ice that I have noticed this season. After loading up our kayaks, we all headed to “Annie’s,” along Main Street in Garretson, to share a pizza and have tall cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream. It was a very pleasant evening with good fellowship and an interesting shared experience.

A Late Season Cruise on the Big Sioux River Through Sioux Falls

2011-10-31T16:00:00.000-07:00

After my less than satisfying experience on Saturday, I left the kayak on top of my Honda Civic in hopes of sneaking in another cruise within a couple of days. I had a couple of free hours late this afternoon, so I went down to the East 26th Street launching area for a trip upstream on the Big Sioux River to the rapids under the bicycle trail bridge near the Cliff Avenue lift station.

For this time of the year, the afternoon was perfect: sunny skies, a temperature of 60 degrees, and a 15 mph wind blowing downstream. The river was running a strong current with depths that ranged from two feet or so along the low bank to five or six feet in the channel. The average depth seemed to be three to four feet along most of the width of the river. I was surprised to see the strength of the current and the water depth considering the lack of rain over the past weeks in the Sioux Falls area.

It took me 40 minutes to paddle upstream to the rapids under the bike trail bridge. When riding this section of the bike trail, the odometer on my bike read 1.1 miles, so I suppose that the river length is about the same. The trip back was largely a float in the current and took about 25 minutes.

There was a flock of ducks that hovered just ahead of me on the river. As I paddled, they would fly ahead, settle down, and then take off again as I got closer. I came across a group of four or five deer that were watching me from the depths of the shoreline woods.

My cruise continued up to the rapids, and I thought of the times that I have run this section of the river. When going downstream, I sometimes feel mounting tension as I approach this set of rapids under the bridge. One of my kayaking friends got hung up on a rock in these rapids recently – a nightmare that I easily imagine when passing through.

YMCA Camp Leif Ericson is located on the left bank going downstream and extends for most of the distance of this cruise. I thought of the thousands of elementary school aged children who populate this camp from June through the first half of August. I passed the “crashed airplane” in the woods, the “pirate ship,” and the waterfront area of the camp. Everything is deserted now as winter begins to take hold. It will be seven months before the next cadre of “campers” arrives for weeklong sessions next spring and summer.

This is a great spot for a contemplative flatwater cruise of about an hour. The “put-in” is about 10 minutes from my driveway to the launching point, and I really ought to do this short cruise more often.

I still have hopes of another cruise somewhere this fall. The season is passing, though, and tomorrow is November 1. The end of the paddling season is at hand.

Capsize on Trip from Dell Rapids to Baltic

2011-10-29T16:53:00.001-07:00

Many SDCKA cruises in the Sioux Falls general area are announced and led by David and Mary Finck and Larry Braaten. I was hoping for another cruise opportunity this fall and was pleased to see that a trip on the Big Sioux River between Dell Rapids and Baltic was planned for today. At this time of the year, any cruise could be the last of the season.

The forecast for today looked good: sunny skies, temps up to 59, and winds at 10-20 mph. When I loaded up my kayak for the 1:00 p.m. rendezvous at the city park in Dell Rapids the temperature was about 48 degrees, the skies were overcast, and a stiff wind was blowing. But, a plan made has to be carried out!

The group of six kayakers gathered in the Dell Rapids city park on the banks of the Big Sioux River. After shuttling vehicles down to Baltic, we put on our layers of clothing, jackets, boots, and gloves. It was nippy just standing in the wind on the shore. The 8.1 mile cruise downstream seemed as though it could be accomplished in under three hours. The only concern was the rapids just downstream from the “put-in.”

We set off downstream and reached the first rapids within about half a mile. The river curves to the left at that point, and the fast current swirls toward the left bank through a set of rocks in deep water. I was the last in a line of kayaks to pass through the rapids and suddenly I saw a large rock just beneath the surface and directly in line with my path. I have passed over many rocks over the years and had no serious concern. After all, the other boats had negotiated that passage okay. In this case, though, I felt the kayak rise up and hang briefly on the rock before suddenly finding myself capsized and making a “wet exit” from the boat. The water was over my head and running fast. It was also very cold. I managed to grab onto the stern of my overturned kayak, hold on to the paddle, and swim toward the opposite shore, a shore that offered a better chance to get out of the river.

My paddling companions quickly came to my assistance. I grabbed onto the stern of Dave Finck’s kayak and others managed to corral my kayak to prevent it from continuing downstream. After swimming and stumbling to the shoreline, I staggered ashore. Others pushed my kayak to the shore where I could grab it.

I was completely drenched and the cold was numbing my body. All I cared about at the moment was getting off the water and jumping around. My companions offered me dry clothing they were carrying; in fact, I had a bag of spare clothing myself tucked into the rear compartment of the kayak (a bag I later found soaked!). As I looked around, however, it seemed that I could just walk back to my car and let this opportunity for a late fall river cruise pass for me.

So, I decided to just fade from the group and let them continue on their way downstream. I didn’t really think more about the choice when I saw how easy to would be to return to my car in the park. If we were a couple of miles downstream, I would have just tried to dry myself off and tough it out for this cruise. As it was, though, I was just too cold and soaked.

I dragged my kayak along the ground and over the bike path to a spot above the rapids. The best bet for me then was to just get back in the kayak and paddle to the park. When I got to the park, I was nearly shaking with a deep chill. The wind was blowing so hard that it was hard to load my kayak on the car. Once I was loaded up, I got in the car and turned the heater up to its maximum setting and drove home. I was still shivering when I arrived. Leaving all my clothing in a pile in the laundry room, I quickly jumped into a hot shower, where I nearly exhausted the hot water supply.

On the positive side, my glasses were secure with a head strap, my camera was in a waterproof box, I had my bilge pump to drain the water out of the kayak, I had my lifejacket on, and I had companions to help me out. This was the first time that I have ever capsized a kayak or made an unplanned wet exit. It seemed that today my luck ran out – or I made a bad decision in the path selected through the rapids. In any event, it proved to be an ignominious end to the cruise for me.

The other paddlers made the trip down to Baltic without further incident in about three hours.

Approaching Winter on Lake Alvin

2011-10-25T18:28:00.000-07:00

I was touring through China for a couple of weeks in October and missed some good days for lake cruising and a couple of SDCKA Big Sioux River cruises. I did, however, get the opportunity to ride a bamboo raft down the Li River in China through the Karst mountains near Yangshou.

Rafting down the Li River near Yangshou, China

My kayak has been resting in the garage for nearly a month. Instead of padding, I have been taking a walk with Finnegan the dog nearly every day in one of the nature areas around Sioux Falls. Yesterday was a wonderful gift: negligible wind, sun, and a temperature around 70 degrees. That magnificent day prompted me to load up my kayak last night and get ready for a cruise today, regardless of a less promising forecast.

This morning I got up and in the predawn gloom saw that the wind had come up, the sky was cloudy, and the temperature was about 40 degrees. I had planned on going to Lake Lakota for a cruise around the shoreline to look at the deepening fall and approach of winter. After my morning walk and time for the habitual bagel, coffee, and a 90-minute read at my local bagel spot, I decided to instead head for Lake Alvin.

Lake Alvin is a fairly long and narrow lake with high bluffs and banks. The lake is situated so that there is nearly always a sheltered side under the lee of tree-covered banks and high bluffs. Even with a strong wind, I have found it possible to move about in my kayak without feeling a sense of anxiety. With the cold temperatures recently, it would not be good to capsize in the waves of any lake in the area, especially this late in the season. So, while there is always some risk in a kayak, the topography of Lake Alvin is more reassuring to me that the wide-open large lakes that characterize this region, especially with a stiff wind.

As I arrived at the southwestern public access area, I found the lake deserted, as usual, and a strong wind blowing down from the north. The temperature by then was about 42 degrees, so I had on a hat, jacket, and gloves. I decided to head into the wind and moved up the eastern shore to the fishing dock on the northern end of the lake. There was significant wave action, but I stayed close to the eastern shore and thought about how much easier the paddle would be in a following wind and sea as I returned south.

My last cruise was also on Lake Alvin, about a month ago, and the advance of fall and approach of winter were apparent in the vegetation along the shore. Green is rapidly disappearing in the deciduous trees and bushes, the water is much clearer with the disappearance of algae growth, and there was a lack of life along the banks: no critters, no birds, no people.

The sky was mostly cloudy with intermittent rays of scattered sunshine. The wind was cutting through me and I wore my gloves to keep my hands flexible. The waves were moving from north to south, and there was a little bounce to the kayak as I cut through them.

The landscape reminded me of a late March or early April cruise with the brown grasses and increasingly bare trees. But, a cruise in the early spring is a time of anticipation and relief that the winter has passed. In contrast, a mid to late fall cruise is a time to say goodbye to the lake. The older I get, the more I dread the coming of winter here on the northern plains.

Continuing south, I moved down the lake and into Nine Mile Creek. Again, there was no sign of life. The waterfowl seems to have moved on and no perching birds were out on this cold and windy day. I didn’t see any turtles or muskrats either, although one fish jumped up out in front of my kayak.

There was adequate depth to the creek today, despite the lengthy time with no rain here in southeastern South Dakota. I continued up the creek nearly as far as I normally go. Back into the creek, I saw signs of another house being built. I also saw construction underway north on the main body of the lake on the ridge behind the swimming beach. It seems that development is slowly taking hold over more of the area. Fortunately, the development is a few hundred yards behind the shoreline. I reflected again on how lucky we are that the state developed the recreation area long ago, before people began to build big houses looming on the landscape.

As I returned to the launching point, I was really cold. I had been out for about two hours, and the wind had really chilled me. The jacket, gloves, hat, and lifejacket were not enough to keep out the cold.

Sometimes this time of the year will mark the end of the paddling season here in Sioux Falls. I looked over blogs from the past five years and found that my last real cruise took place on dates from October 5 through November 21. I think that I can anticipate one or more cruises this year and will just have to see how the weather develops over the next two or three weeks.

Fall Colors on Lake Alvin: Late September 2011

2011-09-27T18:34:00.000-07:00

About this time of year, people are often heading out to New England to experience the change of seasons in Vermont or New Hampshire. I rarely hear of visitors traveling to South Dakota to view the changing colors; I don’t see tour busses winding through the cottonwood groves along our prairie rivers and lakes to check out the fall foliage.

Still, there is a beautiful change in the trees, bushes, and grasses at this time of year, and this is apparent along the shores of our waterways. This morning I set out for a fall cruise along the shoreline of Lake Alvin and up into Nine Mile Creek. The South Dakota Department of Game, Fish, and Parks reports a shoreline of 4.3 miles on this 105 acre impounded lake.

The signs of approaching winter are visible in the changing colors along the shoreline. There has been a frost and even a light freeze this month; the temperatures have dropped down to about 30 degrees one or two nights and have hovered into the 40s most mornings and then risen up to the 70s in the afternoon. On hikes in nature areas around Sioux Falls, I tend to find myself slipping on hundreds of acorns falling on leaf-covered trails. Signs of winter are on display in retail stores as lawnmowers are discounted and the snow blowers are out on the showroom floor. Paddlers tend to become fixated on getting in those final cruises of the season.

When I arrived at the public access area on the southwestern shore this morning, there was no one in sight. I headed north up the lake along the western side and slowly cruised along taking in the changing colors of the leaves of trees and bushes. There was hardly any wind, so there was a mirror smooth quality to the lake surface. The changing colors of the foliage were reflected off the water creating a pleasing double-sided image.

As I moved north and passed the boat launch for the recreation area, I exchanged greetings with a guy fishing from the dock. A fishing pier has been built at the north end of the lake, and another guy was approaching it when I passed by. Maybe these were other retirees out to enjoy the morning away from the “to do” lists that seem to clutter up our lives. I especially like to take my cruises during “working hours” on weekdays.

I slipped into the channel leading up to the spillway and found plenty of depth to the water. Entering that channel at this time of year has sometimes been a challenge; this time, however, I was able to move up near the edge. I thought about what might happen if a paddler were to have a seizure or a jolt and lose control of the boat and drift over the spillway to the rocks below.

There is still evidence of the fisheries project underway from SDSU on the waters of Lake Alvin. Sets of floats were scattered at four or five locations; as I was concluding my cruise, the SDSU research boat came plowing down the center of the lake, probably checking whatever was marked by the floats. A South Dakota Statewide Fisheries Survey reported in 2010 that the most common fish in the lake were black crappie, black bullhead, and bluegill.

Moving south back down the lake, I came across a snake swimming about 15 feet offshore. I can’t remember seeing a snake swimming in this lake before. It was about 24 inches long, and I paddled up to check it out more closely. The snake looked just a little confused for a moment before I moved on. Hopefully, the snake decided that I was not out to harm it.

At the entrance to Nine Mile Creek, I came across a muskrat on a sandy spit that marks the waterway south into the creek. My rudder was up, and it was hard to keep on a good track while fumbling for my camera. Still, I captured the image before the critter shambled off the spit and into the water.

The cattails within the reeds along the shoreline of the creek are swelling and letting their woolly seeds scatter to begin afresh next year.

There was adequate depth to Nine Mile Creek, and I headed upstream to the bridge. My time for the cruise was running out, though, and I had to head back to the launching point, load up my kayak and make it to a lunch appointment.

This is a great time to check out the fall foliage along our South Dakota waterways. The cycle of brown, to deepening shades of green, and then back to brown is underway. Within a couple of weeks I expect that most of the leaves for deciduous trees will have fallen. The end of our paddling season is in sight, and I hope to get in a few more cruises.

Lake Alvin: September 2011

2011-09-07T15:34:00.000-07:00

With a wonderful early fall forecast ahead after the Labor Day cruise on Monday, I just left my kayak on the car ready for another cruise this week. So, this morning I headed out to the very familiar waters of Lake Alvin for a trip along the shoreline.

Putting in at the southwestern public access site, the lake was deserted. Unable to resist my habitual path, I headed south into Nine Mile Creek and continued upstream for about 30 minutes.

The depth of the channel was satisfactory along this route, although some attention had to be paid to avoiding grounding at times. I was able to continue upstream on the creek nearly to the point where it becomes too shallow and rocky most of the year. So, the creek is deep enough still for kayaks to move up on the usual route for about a mile and a-half.

I like moving up and down these narrow creeks with high banks, with deep native grasses and wildflowers and the dappled shade provided by trees along the bank. Unlike the spring cruises on Nine Mile Creek, there was no waterfowl to be seen today and only a few other birds. I did see some turtles and a couple of muskrat and lots of butterflies, dragonflies, and bees flitting among the yellow wildflowers.

After returning from my creek cruise, I continued north into the main body of Lake Alvin. Moving in the shade along the eastern shore, I paddled north, peering into the vegetation along the shore.

It was not until I arrived in the northern half of the lake, across from the recreation area boat launch, that I saw any other human activity. A fishing boat was putting into the lake as I passed and there were a few cars parked in the lot. I came across a fisherman casting from his boat and spoke to him. He was startled and said that I must have snuck up on him.

As I continued north, I came across a strange looking boat. It had a high pulpit around the bow and an arm extending out from the bow with a round looking device suspended from a cable. There were two guys in the boat, and one was using a net. As I approached the boat, I asked what kind of rig they were using. One of the guys told me that they were “electro-fishing” and were from SDSU on a research project. Apparently, they were stunning fish with a shock of some sort, netting them, and then measuring and perhaps tagging them. They told me that it would be a good idea if I stood off from their boat, presumably to avoid being shocked by the device.

Continuing on, I moved along the eastern shore to the northern end of the lake and then began my cruise back to the south end. As I passed the public swimming beach, I saw a couple of people exercising their dogs in the sand, retrieving something from the water.

The cruise this morning was under really ideal conditions. It was sunny, the temperature was about 68 degrees, and there was a light wind out of the south. The lake was quite clean. I had to search to find my cruise quota of five pieces of debris, generally plastic bottles. There was very little algae on the surface, and the lake is likely to become even clearer as the fall deepens. I had a fun two hours on my morning cruise.

Labor Day on the Big Sioux River

2011-09-06T08:28:00.000-07:00

Dave and Mary Finck and Larry Braaten, officers of the SDCKA, announced Sunday that they were setting out on a Labor Day cruise down the Big Sioux River from the Klondike Dam to the Highway 18 bridge just east of Canton, SD, and invited interested members to join them.

I realized that this was an opportunity not to be squandered, a chance to join with the group and enjoy the fellowship of the paddle, have access to a shuttle, and laugh it up in the sun on this really wonderful day. The winds were light, the skies were sunny, and the temperature in the low 70s. In addition the water conditions were as good as they could be: plenty of depth, a wide and steady flow, no strainers, and no rapids.

We gathered on the South Dakota side of the river and dropped off our kayaks at the established launch area. Eight of us drove down to the take-out to leave our cars and then piled into Dave Finck’s van for the ride back to the Klondike. There were ten kayaks in our flotilla, and we began our eight-mile paddle about 2:00 p.m.

After launching, the kayaks milled around the put-in until everyone was afloat, and then we set off downstream.

These group paddles tend to begin with kayaks bunched up, but then a separation occurs and three or four conversation groups seem to form and reform over the course of the trip.

I was the last kayak in line as we set out. As I stopped to take photographs at times, the distance between me and the group tended to lengthen.

Sometimes, I found that no other kayaks were in sight. It was almost as if I were alone on the river; then I would put some power back into the stroke and move up to at least another kayak. One of my kayaking pals, Jarett Bies, helped me understand that the power in a stroke is in the pushing of the paddle rather than pulling. Keeping that in mind, I would ensure that my hands were low on the paddle shaft and drive forward a hundred strokes or so until I spotted the most distant kayak ahead.

On this Labor Day, we saw some fishermen out along the banks, we passed a family that had built a bonfire and seemed to be settling in for a picnic, and we even came across a motorboat filled with fishermen heading upstream – one of the rare times that I have seen a powered craft on these small South Dakota streams.

This stretch of the Big Sioux is wide and the banks are heavily covered with trees. There are rolling hills along both sides of the river and some steep banks at times, especially along the Iowa side. The banks have been undercut with the floods this year, and it is easy to see future strainers hanging on to their probable final year of growth with roots exposed and hanging down. There are also rugged large tree skeletons in the water, evidence of trees that once graced the riverbank before being eroded through spring floods.

There are several sandy beaches scattered along this course of the river, and we stopped along one for a few minutes to take a short break. These few minutes provide a chance to connect with each other and enjoy a moment of fellowship.

There were no “critters” to be seen today and only a few birds. The sounds of a group paddling downstream tend to provide a clear announcement to the animals that their space is being invaded, even though we are all harmless people – environmentalists by nature of our kayaks.

We arrived at the Highway 18 bridge after about two and a-half hours on the water. There is an easy take-out at a launching area just down from the bridge on the Iowa side of the river.

This was a great trip, a beautiful day at the beginning of the informal fall season. Many of us were conscious of the changing season. The leaves are about to start falling, and all of us know the signs of the fading summer and the hint of what is about to befall us here on the northern plains. Winter can be here as early as October – next month!

Beaver Lake - August 2011

2011-08-25T13:37:00.000-07:00

The forecast yesterday for this morning seemed the best this week for kayaking: light winds, sunny, no rain. So, to lock in my intentions, I loaded up the kayak on the car last night so that I might make a quick getaway after my bagel, coffee, and hour-long read at my routine morning spot.

I wanted to revisit Beaver Lake, a body of water that I last paddled in May, just as the area was experiencing the arrival of spring. Beaver Lake is about 25 miles from my eastside Sioux Falls home and an easy drive out on Interstate 90 to Humboldt. The lake is about 300 acres, roughly three times the size of Lake Alvin. As I arrived in Humboldt this morning looking for the gas station that marks the road leading past the cemetery and the back of the elementary school and on to the lakeshore, I thought about how hard it would be for someone to actually locate the lake. Signage is not a strength here in South Dakota, especially when searching for a lake. There is nothing indicating a lake or launching area until passing an obscure small sign covered in weeds, and there is almost never a sign providing a name for a lake. Perhaps this is to keep such locations nearly private, only accessible to those in the know. Specific driving directions from Sioux Falls are provided on earlier narratives located in the area waterways inventory on the right side of this blog.

The launch area is quite nice and has a ramp, dock, ample parking, and a vault toilet. There was no one about, neither on the shore nor on the water; I was completely alone for my cruise.

I launched my kayak at 7:45 a.m. into mirror calm waters. This lake can be quite a challenge when there is a stiff wind, but today it was just beautiful. I rushed through my readiness steps so that I could get underway before a wind arose to shatter the reflective surface.

My usual route on Beaver Lake is to take off from the launching area on the southern end of the lake and head out to the island directly in front of the ramp. The island is heavily wooded with a varied shoreline. The southwestern side has high cut banks, perhaps up to 20 feet in height, while the eastern and northern shoreline is gently shelving into a thickly wooded interior.

The island is a bird paradise. I have seen great blue heron, egrets, owls, geese, ducks, and a great variety of perching birds. There does not seem to be any clear path into the interior of the island. I suppose that there is some animal life that either swims to the island or is stranded after crossing during the winter, although I have seen only squirrels.

As nearly always, I paddled out to the island and went right around the eastern shore to the north and entered the northeastern arm of the lake. Keeping to the right side, I paddled close along the shore until I came to the channel, marked by an old windmill, leading south about 1,000 feet into a large marshy pool.

This pool is deep in the marsh and bordered by tall rushes and cattails. There are beaver lodges aplenty throughout the channel and the pool. Also, this is a nesting area for a great variety of waterfowl and perching birds.

I like to ground my kayak among the rushes and sit quietly watching the reappearance of birds that took flight initially upon my arrival.

Sitting there in the pool is a great vantage point for observing the life of this secluded spot.

Even though the lake has lost some depth at this point in the summer, there was plenty of water to float my kayak anywhere I wanted to go.

After my cruise through that channel and into the pool, I reentered the eastern arm of the lake and continued east to the end. On the north side of the very end of this arm, there is another channel that flows northeast and allows passage for about 800 feet through the marsh and rushes. As always, I continued up this channel until my forward progress was halted by a single-wire fence. This channel was pretty shallow with depth ranging from just a few inches to perhaps one or two feet. As I thrust my paddle down, it sank into about a foot of muck. I did not want to be in a situation where I had to get out of a grounded kayak and find myself failing around in muck that reached my knees. But, this did not happen, and I continued as usual until I reached the wire.

Coming back, I returned to the island and continued around the remaining shoreline, peering into the interior and impressed by the constant cacophony of bird calls – calls from unseen birds deep in the woods.

I was out for about two hours this morning. While I was out, the mirror calm was replaced by a surface sculpted into wavelets from a developing light breeze. Again, the inescapable lesson of lake cruising in South Dakota: go paddling early!

Beaver Lake is a very nice spot for varied landscape and bird watching. As the reader might review in earlier narratives (see the inventory of specific paddling areas on the right side of the blog), this is also a lake that can become dangerous when the wind rises. I have a paddling colleague who goes out to Beaver Lake during windy conditions specifically to ride the waves, but I prefer a calm water surface, especially when out alone. My tip-off for going to Beaver Lake is a forecast that calls for winds from 5-15 mph, and then I go early to take advantage of the calmest part of the day.

Big Sioux River Clean-Up: August 2011

2011-08-18T12:44:00.000-07:00

One of the public service activities sponsored by the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association is an annual river clean-up. This year, the group took on a section of the Big Sioux River through Sioux Falls from the “put-in” near 57th Street and Western to the “take-out” at 26th Street and Southeastern Ave.

At 5:30 p.m. yesterday afternoon, about 18 paddlers with at least four canoes and ten or more kayaks assembled at the put-in and arranged a shuttle of vehicles downstream to the take-out. The general plan was to have the canoes move down the river functioning as “mother ships” with the fleet of kayaks picking up rubbish along the banks. In actual operation, though, the canoes were just as engaged in gathering debris as the kayak; in fact, the canoes were able to pick up large items that the kayaks just could not handle.

Some of the kayaks had milk crates strapped on the forward deck, while others had other types of containers to hold debris. Everyone had a supply of plastic garbage bags into which rubbish was stuffed. Sometimes the kayaks handed off materials to the canoes.

The river was still pretty high and running fast as we set out. The fast flow created an opportunity for paddlers to work on their maneuvering skills as they angled in to pick up plastic bottles, plastic bags, styrofoam, cardboard coffee cups, and other bits of trash. It was often a judgment call to risk a capsize or being caught up in a strainer in order to snag a discarded plastic soda bottle. The river was flowing so fast that it was often necessary to circle back and move upstream along the shore to retrieve a piece of debris.

The boats moved out in a group and I wondered if there would be enough trash for so many boats. I was one of the first paddlers to move downstream and was able to gather the “low hanging fruit” at first. About fifteen minutes into the trip, I moved into a narrow channel that had created an island in the river. The stream I followed was deep enough to easily navigate, but I was alone. As I continued to move down this channel, I saw that no one had followed.

After about 15 minutes, I reentered the main course of the river and saw only one other boat, an aluminum canoe with two guys weighted down with some heavy debris, including a couple of long boards, most of a child’s wadding pool, and other items that made the canoe seem more like a barge.

We two boats continued along the course of the river. I had no idea whether we were in the lead or in the rear; there was no sign of any of the other dozen boats. We both continued to load up our boats as we moved downstream. From the point where we encountered each other until the end, there was no sign of any other boat. It was as if we were alone on the river.

As we approached the rapids under the bicycle trail bridge, I could hear the water rushing over the rocks. My normal practice is to hang back and watch someone else go through the rapids first and, if they are successful, to follow their track. The guys in the canoe, however, wanted me to go first. The last time I came through this stretch, the water was so high that there was no sign of rapids. This time, though, it was different. I thought I recalled that it was best to head to the right side of the rapids, and this is what I did. As I was moving through, I saw rocks ahead and had to move between them. Later, David Finck told me that I took the wrong side; it would have been better to shoot through the center. But, I made it through and, so I heard, did all the other boats. I generally feel a little tense as I approach these rapids, even though I have never had a problem with them. The next time, I will try to follow my routine and observe someone else go through first and follow along in that pathway. There is a sense of exhilaration at shooting through these rapids, and we all hope that there will be spectators on the bridge to appreciate our skill and courage!

I understand that two of the kayaks capsized in waist-deep water when approaching a downed tree (strainer). A capsize would be easy with kayaks maneuvering to gather litter caught up along the shore or in strainers.

Also, the kayaks were loaded up with debris, making them more unwieldy.

When we got to the take-out, my canoeing companions and I were indeed the first boats in. Zach, of Zach’s Kayaks and Canoes, was at the landing to help pull the boats up. The bank at the take-out is muddy and steep. Someone to help people get their boats out is certainly welcome, and Zach was there! In fact, he contributed two canoes to the clean-up effort and stayed at the landing assisting people until we were all ashore. Zach told me, by the way, that this stretch of river that we paddled was the primer route selected by his clients.

Within ten minutes or so, other boats began arriving with their load of rubbish. We created a large heap of debris, mostly more than twenty large garbage bags full of junk. The canoes had some larger items, including a television set. Someone picked up two pairs of tennis shoes tied together. A small bullhead was in one of the shoes, and I took him back to the river to live on a while longer.

The last two kayaks arrived about 8:30 p.m. in the dark. We piled up the debris, took a group photo, and called it a good effort.

The last time the club did a Big Sioux River clean-up, there was one canoe and three kayaks involved. This year we had about 18 people and more than a dozen boats. I think that the large number of people turning up is an indication of the increasing popularity of kayaking in our area and the increasingly robust nature of the SDCKA.

Split Rock Creek - Through the Palisades: August 2011

2011-08-10T11:57:00.000-07:00

With a forecast for today similar to yesterday, I just left the kayak on the car top and planned on another cruise. This morning was nearly perfect: temperature about 60, calm winds, sunny skies – just right for a return to Garretson City Park and a cruise upstream from the dam and through the palisades. My last trip on this waterway was April, a time when the spring growth was just developing.

Garretson City Park was nearly deserted this morning. I have never come across another kayak or canoe during my cruises on this section of Split Rock Creek. Occasionally, I see the pontoon boat “Jesse James” taking people on a sightseeing cruise upstream, but not today.

While at 9:30 a.m. there was plenty of sun, it was below the cliffs on the right side going upstream, creating interesting shadows that highlighted reflections of the cliff face and the vegetation growing on ledges, in cracks, and on top.

There are high cliffs scattered along both sides of this impounded creek. The water is quite deep in the channel, although there are rocks just under the surface along the low banks. These are the type of rocks that can “highside” a kayak in water that is sometimes three feet deep. Getting off these rocks can present a risk of upset since it is difficult to fend off the bottom or to get out of the boat. I did find myself caught on rocks a couple of times, but I got off without incident and just moved further out into the channel. In the channel, I could not touch bottom with my extended double-bladed paddle.

I did not see much wildlife today – really only some perching birds, a few jumping fish, turtles, and a muskrat, similar to yesterday’s paddle on Loss Lake.

There are a couple of homes built on a rise at the end of the impounded waters at the entrance of the creek flowing through. While the water level is no doubt a bit lower than it was earlier in the season, there was no problem moving up through this familiar waterway.

On the way back, as usual, I ducked through the arched bridge leading into Devil’s Gulch. This is one of my favorite sections of the cruise, and I never miss the opportunity to slip into this secluded world. There was a section of heavy algae and aquatic grasses midway in the Gulch stream, but the water was fairly clear at the far end where a brook feeds into the creek and then clear again as the water passed through the bridge.

This cruise offers solitude and a chance to observe the great variety of plant life that find ways to thrive on the cliff faces. A railroad runs off to the right side going upstream, but the vegetation obscures the train itself; when a train passes, there is the romantic sound of the whistle and a distant roar of passing cars. Cruising along, I glanced up to watch east-bound passing jet planes with their contrails extending back as the aircraft swept over this “fly-over” state. Water pouring over the dam spillway is clearly heard upon departure and return from the put-in.

I lingered on the water for about 90 minutes this morning. As I have noted before, this is perhaps the most scenic paddling opportunity in the Sioux Falls area, and it is a place I almost always introduce to friends or relatives who are new to kayaking.

A full range of narratives from previous cruises upstream from Garretson City Park as well as other sections of Split Rock can be reviewed in the "Area Waterways" list on the right side of the blog.

Loss Lake - August 2011

2011-08-09T12:39:00.001-07:00

The heat wave seems to have passed for now here in Sioux Falls. As I looked at the weather forecast over the next few days, I knew that now is the time to get out on the water again. So, this morning I got back into my morning paddling routine and stopped by my bagel spot for a bagel, coffee, and an hour-long read before heading out to Loss Lake, a small lake west of Sioux Falls (west on SD 42 to SD 19, north 2.5 miles, back east along a dirt road for about .5 miles to the lakeside).

Like most of these small lakes, there is very limited signage and no location identification. Because of an error in one publication, there has been some confusion about the name of this lake. Some people call it Lost Lake, but that is not correct. The South Dakota Game Fish and Parks identifies it as Loss Lake, and that is the agency that owns the access area – parking, dock, fishing pier, vault toilet. The data about the lake can be found on the SDGFP web site at the following URL: http://gfp.sd.gov/fishing-boating/fishing-access.aspx Loss Lake is south of I 90, Lost Lake is north several miles, near Humboldt.

The lake was deserted when I arrived at 7:30 a.m., and no one appeared during my 90 minutes at the location. The skies were sunny and the winds seemed light when I arrived but steadily build to a moderate breeze by the time I finished my one-hour cruise around the perimeter.

The shoreline around Loss Lake is generally grasses, with some tree cover limited to the southern shore. The banks are high, so that even with a wind there is a lee to be found under the shelter of the bank, at least along the shore from where the wind is blowing.

There is one home on the western side of the lake, and there is an old structure on the eastern shore that was the official’s station for hydroplane races that were held on the lake many years ago. I have often speculated about the atmosphere that might have characterized this lake years ago when the hydroplanes were roaring across the surface and the crowds were cheering on their favorite. The official’s station seems to just be a little bit more weathered each year.

Sometimes I have seen pelicans on the lake. Today, though, wildlife was scarce; I came across a muskrat, an egret, a few duck-like waterfowl, some jumping fish, and the occasional turtle’s head poking above the water to check out the passing kayak. My favorite time to visit the lake is in early spring when ducks and geese are nesting. I waited too long this year for my annual visit.

While the water was pretty smooth when I set out this morning on the west side, by the time I got around to the east side the wind had increased. There were enough waves by then to provide a little bounce to the ride, and one wave slopped over the cockpit coaming to douse me. From the water stains on the dock, it would seem that the lake level is between one and two feet lower than when the dock was installed this spring.

Loss Lake is not an exciting lake to explore. It is pretty small and includes only the main body and one bay that extends off into the northeast. What seems to be the feeder creek is fenced off with an electric wire. It does, however, provide the opportunity for a quiet and contemplative one-hour paddle. I have been informed by those fishing the lake that the water is deep and seems to provide good habitat for the fish. The distance from my eastside Sioux Falls home to the lakeshore is about 25 miles. Further details of earlier cruises on Loss Lake can be found in the "Area Waterways" inventory on the right side of the blog.

Lake Lakota - August 2011

2011-08-03T11:57:00.000-07:00

We finally escaped from a prolonged heat wave here on the northern plains; this morning the temperature was in the low 60s, the skies were clear, the wind moderate, and the high only expected to climb into the mid 80s. For the past month or so, family events and then the heat have moderated my kayaking. I have taken people out on Lake Alvin a couple of times, but my routine summer cruising has been on hold. This morning, I left home around 6:00 a.m., had my usual bagel, coffee, and an hour for reading my latest novel before heading out to Lake Lakota, a part of Newton Hills State Park.

I arrived at the launching area by 7:30 a.m. and, as expected, found it deserted. My last trip to Lake Lakota was in early April, and the first hints of spring growth were visible. Mostly, though, the area was still clothed in the drab brown that follows the snowmelt. Today, the area looked transformed and predominately green: grass, flowers, leafed-out trees, and a good share of the lake surface.

As I moved my kayak over to the launch area, I saw a pair of pants lying on the surface of the ramp: jeans, belt, and some loose bills both on the ramp surface and in the pockets of the jeans. There was no identification. I wondered how a person could forget his pants; was he so absent minded or was he wasted so much that he was unaware of his circumstances. I hung the pants with the cash on a posted sign and took off. When I returned two hours later, there was a parks guy driving a mowing machine. I let him know about the pants and the cash, and he told me he would take them to the park office for Newton Hills.

The lake was tranquil, and I began my usual clockwise circuit, heading left (east) from the dock. There is an inlet on the eastern side that extends back into the bush for a few hundred yards, and I always move up into this creek-like flow until I reach the point where further travel is no longer possible.

I like to sit quietly in the kayak to listen to the sounds resuming after my passage. This seems to me like a special place where I can listen to the backwaters sounds of wind in the trees, insects, and bird life.

Continuing on my cruise around the shoreline of the lake, I headed south to the dam and spillway for Pattee Creek. The entire lake is within Newton Hills State Park, so the shoreline has no visible reminder of the larger outside world.

There is a great deal of aquatic growth on the lake now and extending in deep banks of seaweed-like plants just under much of the surface. The surface growth generally extends out about 10 feet from the shoreline on much of the lake. Even away from the shoreline, however, there are walls of plant growth that are several feet deep. This degree of growth seems present in the summer, but it is not so evident during the spring and fall. I imagine that motorboats would have some difficulty in keeping propellers clear of this growth, and fisherman would have the same trouble in casting their lines. A kayak, however, can just glide over most of the aquatic growth. Motorboats would seem restricted to the open areas in the center of the lake.

From the dam, I cruised back down the western shore and into the arm that extends west to the Pattee Creek inlet, and this is where the surface growth is most intensive. As I moved through heavy plant growth, my kayak slid along the surface and my paddles brought up heavy “seaweed” with each stroke. I was reminded of my snowshoeing this past winter. I was, in effect, skimming along the surface of pretty deep plant life. It was not quite thick enough to be “poling,” but it was certainly not normal cruising. Once, I found myself aground and thought about how unpleasant it would be to have to exit the kayak and wade through the muck to a deeper spot.

In any event, I was able to move back into deeper water and continue on. I noticed that there were streaks of clear water weaving through the seaweed, and I headed over to these river-like passageways through the plants. It seemed rather like following a lead in the polar seas between ice floes.

This was a good contemplative cruise, and I enjoyed it very much. I was out for an hour and a-half and was able to experience a variety of waters. On most of my cruises, I try to pick up six bottles or cans that I find floating or embedded along the shore. That is about what I can fit into the bottom of my kayak without feeling crowded, and I did that today.

The Older Paddler: Low Impact Kayaking on Tranquil Waters - Part III

2011-08-03T09:35:00.000-07:00

A Continuation..........

The Right Gear: Part III

I never go out in my kayak without wearing a first rate life jacket that is properly adjusted and secured. Too often, I hear about mishaps in kayaks or canoes where a life jacket was tucked away under the deck and unavailable when an upset occurred. Trouble occurs quickly, and there is just no time to fiddle around trying to put on a life jacket when the boat is caught up in a strainer or about to capsize in the waves. A couple of years ago, a pair of kayakers was going down the Big Sioux River in the area around the Klondike and got caught up in a strainer. They managed to hang on to the tree and made their way along the trunk with great difficulty as the current foamed around them. Their kayaks were swept downstream; when they were found a few days later, the life jackets were stowed under the decks. I also keep a whistle attached by a lanyard to my life jacket. If I should find myself in the water and struggling, I don’t want to waste my breath trying to yell for help. A whistle will attract attention, if there is anyone about to hear it!

I also have a 15-foot line attached to my kayak. Recently, I was on a group trip down one of the area creeks when one of the kayakers got caught in a strainer and lost her paddle in the current. No one in the group had an extra paddle, and I was the only one with a line that could be used for towing.

After that incident, I noticed some paddlers using a leash to secure the paddle, carrying a “throw bag” of line, and attaching an extra paddle to the kayak hull. The savvy older paddler carries an extra paddle and a length of line for such emergencies.

A portable water pump that can be secured to the deck is highly desirable and sometimes critical, especially for the older paddler who might not have the strength to wrestle a water-filled kayak ashore. I used to think of a water pump affixed to the deck as an affectation for recreational kayakers: an idealized vision of the expedition paddler headed out along a wilderness river or a sea kayaker. But then, a couple of years ago I was with a group of experienced paddlers on a trip down Split Rock Creek from McHardy Park to the Highway 42 bridge. At the end of the cruise, an experienced paddler tipped his kayak when trying to exit the stream. The kayak flooded just off a rocky shore, and he was left trying to drag a very heavy water-filled kayak. Anyone observing such a mishap can identify with the situation and wonder how he or she would deal with it, especially without a pump. Within a few days, I had purchased a pump and it has become part of my gear on all cruises.

While I have not yet tipped my kayak over, the potential is always there. This season, in fact, I got caught between a fence and accumulated debris on Kanaranzi Creek and my kayak filled with water up to the gunwales. It was only a lucky break that I did not roll over. On that occasion, the banks were too high to exit the stream, so I had to pump out the water and float it downstream and to the other side before I could reenter the kayak. So, a pump should be part of the cruise gear for any kayaker, especially the older paddler.

A wheeled cart can save the back when hauling the kayak from the car/truck to the “put-in.” Although I recently saw a guy with an improvised carrying brace mounted on his kayak just behind the seat; most of us grab the kayak by the cockpit coaming and haul it over whatever distance is required to enter or exit the water’s edge. When carrying the kayak, the first pain seems to come from gripping my 55-60 pound kayak around the cockpit edge and then staggering to the “put-in” or to the car. I now have a pair of heavy leather gloves that I take with me on all trips that at least alleviate that pain and help keep me from groaning aloud with the effort. A carrying strap is perhaps the simplest answer for the older and solo paddler. More efficient and less stressful, though, is to use one of the wheeled carts specifically designed to allow for easy transport of a kayak over a variety of surfaces. The cart can save the older paddler from the potential of throwing out his or her back, a heart attack, or just an exhausting carry. I bought mine for about $65 from Tom’s Kayak, a retail outlet I saw advertised in one of the journals

A cord to secure eyeglasses is a small but essential piece of gear for paddlers of all ages, especially the older paddler who might be impaired without corrective lenses. Some years ago I was aboard a sailboat on the Missouri River as a guest of old friends. As most of us are quick to do, I lent a hand in lowering the sail. A halyard whipped across my face and I watched my glasses descending into 90 feet of water. It cost me hundreds of dollars to replace those glasses, money that I didn’t have stuffed under the mattress. Then, Dave Finck, one of my kayaking pals, told me that he tipped over in his kayak on Split Rock Creek last week and lost his glasses in the murky waters. Without a safety strap to secure glasses, a capsize is almost certain to result in an unrecoverable loss. The savvy paddler who wears glasses will always use a safety strap to minimize the potential of an expensive and unrecoverable loss. For many of us, the cost to replace glasses is nearly the value of the kayak.

The Older Paddler: Low Impact Kayaking on Tranquil Waters - Part II

2011-07-24T16:10:00.000-07:00

A continuation.........

Part II: The Appropriate Boat for the Older Paddler

Over the past forty years, I have had a variety of boats. When I was in my 20s and 30s, I thought nothing of heaving a 17-foot aluminum canoe up onto a roof rack. But, I also had some back strains that would nearly incapacitate me for a couple of weeks. Big heavy canoes are also hard to paddle alone, and this sort of boat has seemed increasingly ill-suited for the older paddler. The development of Kevlar, however, has extended canoeing possibilities, and I feel that the much more expensive Kevlar boats are worth the extra cost, especially for the older paddler.

(solo canoe encountered on Lake Alvin)

Many years ago, I had a 15-foot solo canoe that was a great improvement over the heavy aluminum craft. Solo canoes are available in Kevlar and are light enough for most older paddlers to load and carry alone. I think that a solo canoe is a great choice for the older paddler; a principal reason for that observation is the issue of entering and exiting the boat. It is easier, I feel, to get into a canoe than a kayak, especially when using a paddle across the gunwales to provide support. The next boat that I purchase will probably be a Kevlar constructed solo canoe. I think that such a craft would serve me well at this point in life.

Presently, I have a 13-foot Dagger kayak that weighs about 55 pounds. I find that it is difficult to carry the kayak for more than 100 feet or so and have accumulated some equipment to help in that process. First of all, I carry a pair of heavy leather gloves to protect my hands from the edges of the cockpit when carrying the boat. I also have a wheeled cart that I can use to push the boat from the car to a launching site. In addition, I have a special strap that I can use when carrying the kayak to shift the weight from my arms to my back.

It is important to have a boat with watertight bulkheads to isolate the bow and stern compartments from the cockpit. In the event of a capsize, these watertight compartments will ensure that the boat will float, and it would be much easier to empty the hull of water. So I feel safer knowing that the boat will not sink and that it would provide another floatation device in the event of an upset.

My boat also has a rudder that I use most of the time, although I think that it is probably a detriment on narrow creeks. The rudder reduces the need for corrective strokes while cruising and helps ensure good tracking and easier turning. As a photographer, it is also much easier for me to glide up upon my subject without concern about directional drift of the boat.

My second boat is a 12-foot Folbot Aleut, a collapsible fabric covered kayak that can fit into two bags. This type of boat is useful for anyone who is leery about transporting a kayak or canoe on a car roof rack or who has a storage problem. The boat bags can easily fit in the trunk of most cars, including my Honda Civic, or in the back seat. It can also be stored in the garage or even in a closet. This sort of boat is very stable and easy to maneuver and would serve the older paddler quite well. The only issue with a Folbot is the need to assemble it at the launch site. It takes me about 15 minutes to put the boat together; for a retiree, time ought not to be much of an issue. Still, putting it together in the hot sun is a drain for me, and I often think about how I would be off and cruising with my rigid kayak during the assembly time required. I alternate between enthusiasm for the Folbot and irritation with the assembly process. With the Folbot, there is no need for a roof rack or a dedicated storage rack for the kayak in the garage. So, if an older paddler is interested in scaling back on equipment and is considering less housing space, the Folbot is a good choice for the older paddler. The boats are quite dependable, stable, strong, and seem built to last many years. I have owned mine for over ten years, and it has shown no sign of serious wear over that time.

People use ingenious ways to transport their boat. Most use a roof rack, and that is my method as well. I use a Yakima rack with rollers and a kayak cradle. Since I want to be equipped to easily load my kayak alone, I adapted a process that I first observed used by the late Dick Davidson, one of the early canoe enthusiasts in the region, a legendary long distance trekker, and the long-time president of the South Dakota Canoe Association. I just bought an inexpensive mat that I can lay over the trunk and rear window of my car and use that surface to rest my kayak as I slide it over the rear of the car and up onto the roof rack. This technique allows me to easily load my kayak alone, and this is especially important for the older paddler. I would not want to be in a position where I had to always seek out help in lifting the kayak up into the roof rack.

Some people use a pick-up truck with a plywood bed extension for the kayak. The boat can just be secured to the plywood and ride fairly easily in the bed of the truck. Some just toss the kayak in the bed of a pick-up, attached it with a few bungee cords, and “call it good.” A few people have kayak/canoe trailers, and a few people have a short kayak that can fit inside an SUV. For the older paddler, a trailer would be terrific, and there is a manufacturer in Hull, Iowa, with trailers for one, two, or multiple kayaks or canoes. Of course, the rub with having a trailer is finding a spot to park it at home. A lack of such space has deterred me from taking that step.

I have considered purchasing one of the shorter lightweight kayaks made of a plastic material. Such kayaks can weigh only 30 pounds or so, and it would be relatively easy to deal with loading and hauling a little nine-footer. Perhaps these kayaks might be more likely to crack on a rock-strewn creek, but I would probably use such a boat on lakes and rivers, much like I do my Folbot.

The older paddler has to be sure that he or she is capable of loading and hauling a boat appropriate for the intended purpose. My advice is to consider a solo canoe, a Kevlar kayak or canoe, or one of the lightweight plastic kayaks. At the same time, a manageable way to transport the boat has to be considered. The older paddler will have an increasingly tough time heaving a boat up onto the roof of a car, especially an SUV. I have heard of people who carry a little stepladder to use in securing the boat, but this gets a bit involved for the tastes of many older paddlers. The rollers and kayak cradle I use will work for many, a Folbot offers a good way to have a high quality boat and easy transport, and a trailer may be the easiest option of them all.

The Older Paddler: Low Impact Kayaking on Tranquil Waters - Part I

2011-07-22T13:06:00.000-07:00

The Older Paddler: Low Impact Kayaking on Tranquil Waters
A Series of Special Narratives

This fall I will turn 70 years old, and this has caused me to reflect upon the strategies that I have found useful in continuing my paddling activities on area waterways. I am confident that most people who are without serious physical impairments can continue to enjoy paddling well into their senior years. It is important that considered judgment be used in the selection of waterways to be traveled, that an appropriate kayak or canoe be used, and that the right gear be included. Also, the notion of paddling alone or with another person or group is an important consideration. All of these issues will be described in this series of narrative postings.

Part I: Waterway Selection

Increasingly, kayaking has become an activity characterized by a great diversity of paddling interests and activities. A good many paddlers enjoy the thrill of white water and laugh as they tumble through fast water and rapids; getting wet is part of the fun, and these paddlers are not deterred by a capsize and a swim as part of the adventure. Other paddlers are more interested in float trips down area rivers and tranquil visits to secluded lakes to observe bird life and the landscape, and it is these experiences that I will address in the following observations.

Paddling on area lakes can be a pleasant low impact activity for older paddlers. I do most of my paddling on the small lakes in the Sioux Falls area, generally within 30 miles of our home on the southeastern edge of the city. There are a dozen lakes that fall within that geographical limitation, and the reader can refer to the area waterways index located on the right side of my blog for details regarding directions, landscape features, and observations of past cruises on these waterways, generally multiple narratives made over the past few years. My general rule is to spend less time in the car than I do in the kayak on my cruises, and this tends to limit the radius of my paddling choices.

As a retiree, I can generally take my kayak out for a cruise whenever the spirit moves me. Since I retired, I tend to find greater satisfaction in weekday cruises, a set of days that was generally not available during my working career. My practice is to look at the weather forecast for the next few days and settle on a likely day for the cruise. I look for days with light winds in the 5-15 mph range with at least some sun predicted. Normally, I load the kayak onto the car the night before so that I can make an early start. I stop for a bagel and coffee about 6:00 a.m. and am on the road by 7:00 a.m. I like to arrive at the lakeside about 7:30 a.m.

All of the area lakes listed on my blog have a public access area, and most have a developed launch site with a ramp, dock, parking, and a vault toilet. Almost always, I am the only person at the launch site and on the lake. Being alone provides the opportunity for silent contemplation on a tranquil paddle, but there are also risks associated with being alone on a body of water. I am always cautions about wind and wave conditions, realizing that a capsize could present a serious danger.

I spend most of my time on lakes cruising the shoreline, generally doing a circuit around the entire lake, including inlets and bays. It is the landscape of the shore and islands that offers opportunities to observe the range of life found on these isolated lakes: waterfowl, perching birds, mammal life, and a great variety of trees, bushes, and grasses. I also enjoy watching the water conditions that are sometimes mirror smooth and other times covered with waves. Even the wind conditions offer a visual play of ripples and waves. There is always the sound of wind through the shoreline trees and bushes and a constant cacophony of bird calls. The solo paddler can more easily absorb these sensations; paddlers in groups are often engaged in chatter that turns the focus upon social interaction rather than observation.

Paddling on lakes does not require a shuttle, and the solo paddler can operate as a free agent on an individual timetable; when I am tired, I head for the “take out.” As an older paddler, I like setting a cruise agenda that suits my own physical stamina and patience, and the smaller lakes offer a good opportunity for this type of paddling.

Paddling on area rivers such as the Big Sioux River, the James River, the Rock River, and the Missouri River are, for the older paddler, best paddled in company with one or more companions or a group. The South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association sponsors and leads short trips on area rivers several times each season. Most of these trips are no longer than 12 miles and generally take three to four hours. Ages and experience levels of paddlers on these trips is varied. Normally, I am the oldest person on these cruises, and I don’t have any trouble keeping up with the group.

Such cruises are highly social; conversation groups tend to form and reform throughout the trip. A river trip affords the opportunity, often just around the next bend, to observe a variety of wildlife and a varied landscape that ranges from very high cut-banks to low shorelines. The route nearly always passes under large cottonwood trees, past dense foliage along the banks, and offers the paddler a panorama of the changing seasons. Traveling along the river also opens the door to brief conversation with people passed along the way: fisherman, other boaters, hikers, people enjoying a picnic, farmers, and residents of lakeside homes.

The strain of moving boats and entering and exiting the stream is made easy on these river trips; fellow paddlers are eager to lend a hand whenever possible. I sometimes feel pampered by my fellow paddlers when it comes to hauling, launching or grounding my kayak. Since there is always the possibility of some unexpected event while on moving water, paddling with companions can be a lifesaver. Fences across a stream, a strainer, rough rapids, or some other obstruction to the waterway are always possible, and it is critical that assistance be available. Again, it is just unwise to proceed down moving water alone.

Joining with a paddling group for a trip down one of the area rivers is a good option for the older paddler. It is always essential to be alert to the current water levels and weather conditions. Sometimes the flooded conditions of area rivers make cruises too hazardous, and the potential for lightening or high winds is enough to cancel such plans. With the SDCKA groups, there is always a leader identified, someone who is arranging the cruise. Generally there is also a contact telephone number for additional information. If the older paddler is worried about keeping up with the group, it would be good to call the leader and discuss the situation.

One of the most significant benefits in joining with a group for a river paddle is the practice of arranging a shuttle. The announced rendezvous for a cruise is generally the “put-in.” The first activity of the cruise is moving the vehicles downstream to the “take-out” and then piling into one or more cars for a ride back to the beginning point. The kayaks and canoes are left in the care of a couple of people during the shuttle. At the end of the cruise, most people load up their boats and head home; someone, though, provides a ride to the shuttle drivers who retrieve their cars left at the “put-in.”

Paddling area creeks is much like the rivers but often with more hazards. All the remarks about paddling on the rivers are applicable to creek paddling, but the dangers are more pronounced, especially during times of high and fast water. The major creeks in the Sioux Falls area are Split Rock Creek, Skunk Creek, and Kanaranzi Creek (Minnesota). These creeks are normally 20-30 feet in width, serpentine in course, with a depth than is usually around 3-4 feet in the channel, although the depth can increase or decrease suddenly. Strainers are more of a problem because a tree can easily fall across most or all of the creek and because the paddler can quickly come upon these downed trees with limited time for decision-making and alternative planning.

A group of paddlers traveling down a creek are frequently bunched up because of the many twists and turns of the waterway. When the flow is moving quickly, there is a tendency to crowd into a mishap and get into difficulty more rapidly than would be the case on a wider waterway with better sight lines. The flow is often pretty strong in creeks, and rapids appear suddenly. In these circumstances, it is often hard to stop or alter course; sometimes it is even hard to paddle upstream. All this can be great fun, but the issue of avoiding travel on moving water is accentuated in creek paddling.

An exception to the issues frequently encountered in downstream creek paddling is the exploration of creeks feeding into lakes. Most of the lakes around Sioux Falls are impounded water resulting from a dam across a feeder creek. Generally, the flow of waters into the area lakes is slow, especially at the mouth of the feeder creeks. These creeks are usually encountered as a wide inlet that extends back into the original creek bed and often allows the paddler to move rather easily upstream for up to a mile or more. Waterfowl, perching birds, beaver, muskrats, fish, and sometimes deer are often seen along the course of these creeks weaving back into the wetlands. Exploring these inlets is one of my favorite parts of a lake cruise, and I have never encountered another boat along the stream. Moving up into these feeder creeks is like entering a private and secret world and is a great example of low impact paddling that is ideal for the older paddler.

Kanaranzi Creek (Minnesota)

2011-06-29T11:58:00.000-07:00

On Monday afternoon, David Finck called me to ask if I was interested in going on a cruise down Kanaranzi Creek in southwestern Minnesota. Dave had made arrangements for this cruise with Craig, a paddler in Worthington, to explore this stream. With my newfound resolve to embrace spontaneity, I accepted the invitation, and we made the trip yesterday evening.

Kanaranzi Creek is a stream that originates near Lismore, Minnesota, and winds its way southwest to a confluence with the Rock River just north of Rock Rapids, Iowa. We met Craig at a gas station on the edge of Adrian, Minnesota, and headed for the put-in off a bridge just west of town. Craig had traveled down the Kanaranzi a number of times, but neither Dave nor I had done so, and he became the guide for the cruise.

It was about 5:30 p.m. on a sunny afternoon with little wind and a temperature of 78 degrees as we arrived at the spot Craig chose for the put-in, a bridge a couple of miles southwest of Adrian. We shuttled vehicles between the put-in and a take-out site located two bridges downstream. Getting down from the road to the creek required hauling our three kayaks down a steep bank and tall grass to a muddy bank and a fast current. We quickly launched ourselves out into the fast current and a creek depth of about four feet.

Our cruise yesterday was about six miles and passed through a varied landscape of occasional high cut-banks, steep grassy banks along both sides, a width that seemed to vary from 20 to 40 feet, a fast current, and a depth that ranged from a couple of feet to four or five feet in the channel. Sometimes the creek passed through wooded areas and sometimes through what seemed like pasture land. Occasionally the creek would split around islands in the stream. The creek course was serpentine with many bends and a resulting limited sight line for landscape features ahead.

We saw three deer along the way; one was high above on a cut-bank, another was loping along through the grass on the bank, and then there was one leaping through the water just ahead of us. We also came across a herd of cattle that was crossing from one side of the creek to the other and seemed unfazed by kayaks coming down on them. We were nearly on top of some of the cattle as they stopped midstream to check out the intruders in their domain.

Navigational hazards are magnified on small streams, especially when a swift current is flowing. Trees can be eroded along the bank and fall across the entire stream, creating a strainer that is difficult to either anticipate or avoid. With limited sight lines ahead, a narrow stream, and a fast current, decision time is limited; a wrong decision or hesitation can quickly send a paddler into harm’s way. In addition, paddlers tend to stick close together on narrow and curving streams; otherwise, the boats become separated and it is difficult to pass the word about approaching hazards back and forth.

We approached such a strainer about halfway through our passage yesterday. The strainer was not visible until we were almost on it, and Dave was able to shoot through a narrow passage on the left side. The flow of the water in these circumstances tends to increase as the flow is funneled into a limited space. But, Dave made it and suddenly I was upon it. As I approached the slot, the pressure drove my kayak into the strainer and I got stuck in the branches on the edge of the passage. Water began pouring into my kayak, and I knew that I was in a tight spot. Craig was behind me, and the current inhibited his ability to avoid my kayak. He tried to stop and exit the kayak but capsized behind me. Standing in the flow, he gave my kayak a shove to free me, but some of the branches had wrapped around my body. Slipping them off with some difficulty, I was able to move downstream.

We stopped so that Craig could empty his kayak. Since my pump was in the rear hatch and inaccessible to me, I used a sponge to get the several gallons of water out of my kayak. It was only because Craig gave me a push that I was able to escape capsizing my kayak.

There were sets of riffles to be negotiated every few hundred yards, but these were manageable and we just shot through them. We passed under one electric fence that did not pose any problem.

The next fence across the river was a different story. Sweeping around a bend, suddenly we saw a sagging electric fence line. The center part of the line was in the water, and there was a gap on the right side that we thought that we could get through. Again, on a narrow fast flowing stream, decisions have to be quickly made; there is limited opportunity for discussion or consideration of alternatives. Dave made the first run into the slot on the right side, leaned the wrong way to avoid the fence and capsized. I was right behind him; he was in the water, and I was sweeping toward him. My kayak slipped sideways, and suddenly the water poured into the hull. The kayak filled up with water, but it did not capsize. I was just sitting there in a kayak full of water wondering how I could get out of it without rolling. Craig saw what was happening ahead and decided to head over the sagging center of the line and made it through without incident.

The water at this point was only about knee deep, but the current was especially fast through the gaps in the semi-submerged fence line and the debris that had caught on it. The banks were too deep to land the kayaks. We got my pump out of the rear hatch and drained both our kayaks and then floated them down and over to the other side where we had a better chance of reentering and continuing the trip.

From that point on to the take-out at the second bridge, we had reconciled ourselves to being wet and experiencing mishaps. There were, however, no more incidents, and we arrived at the take-out below the bridge. We exited the kayaks without mishap and dragged our kayaks through the tall grass again and up a very steep embankment to the road.

I stood by the kayaks as Dave and Craig left to pick up Dave’s van and the trailer. Our six-mile cruise took us about two hours.

These narrow and twisting creeks that are full and flowing fast offer an interesting ride. Since mistakes are highlighted on such waterways, paddlers are able to hone their skills and ability to keep sharp in reading the river and dealing with unexpected circumstances. At the same time, such experience highlights the need to always be alert, wear a life jacket, and not to paddle alone on moving water. I believe that it is essential that a paddler always anticipate an unplanned incident and be prepared with a water pump, a sponge, and an extra paddle. A person should always wear some type of footwear that can be used to walk on river bottom, along rocky shores, and through brush along the shore.

From Legacy Park along Skunk Creek to E. 26th on the Big Sioux River

2011-06-26T16:37:00.000-07:00

In a repeat of a trip organized last weekend with a fleet of 17 kayaks that made the cruise down Skunk Creek from Legacy Park on West 12th Street to the Big Sioux River and on to the East 26th Street take-out, Dave and Mary Finck led a cruise down the same route today, Sunday, June 26.

Nine kayakers gathered this afternoon at Legacy Park to haul our boats a hundred yards or so to the put-in. We shuttled our cars to the take-out on East 26th Street and rode in Dave’s van back to Legacy Park where we set off about 2:15 p.m. The skies were overcast, the temperature about 78 degrees, and there was no noticeable wind.

Both Skunk Creek and the Big Sioux River were full, deep, and running fast. Skunk Creek was generally about 50 to 60 feet wide, and the rapids along the way were largely submerged. We passed through riffles, but nothing that could cause any anxiety among the paddlers. The Big Sioux River was wider, and the rapids just upstream of the bicycle trail bridge were submerged, as they were last week when I passed through them.

Along Skunk Creek, the banks are high, and the shoreline on the upstream potion is heavily wooded with tall cottonwood trees. Passing along that stretch of the creek, it is easy to forget the urban surroundings. There is little sign of the city.

The confluence of Skunk Creek and the Big Sioux River is just behind Louise Avenue, and the paddler can gaze up at the buildings close to the river. For a mile or so, the river flows through this urban landscape before moving back into the depths of the wooded shoreline further downstream.

We passed two groups of paddlers in kayaks from Zach’s Kayak Rental on the stretch from 57th Street heading downstream. These five kayaks all looked the same and had red paddle blades. Then, we passed a guy heading upstream from 26th Street passing Camp Leif Erickson, the YMCA camp along the river. Finally, as we were loading up our kayaks at the take-out, a couple of vehicles pulled up with kayaks. I have never seen such kayak traffic on the river, and it must be another example of how popular kayaks have become over the past few years.

We moved at a leisurely pace down the streams and did not stop along the way. Actually, there was no apparent spot for us to stop for a stretch: the water was just too high and fast. The distance from Legacy Park to the East 26th Street take-out is 9.3 miles, and we made the trip today in two hours and nine minutes. For a leisurely cruise, this was pretty fast. Those making the trip just last weekend took over three hours for the same distance, so I guess that the recent rains must have speeded up the flow.

Today was a wonderful day for a cruise. On trips like this, the chief attraction is paddling along in casual conversation with fellow paddlers. Cruising on moving water should be done in the company of others; there are too many opportunities for mishap to occur when traveling alone. It is also a great time to laugh it up with others who share an interest in paddling. A major benefit to membership in the SDCKA is to participate in this sort of cruise.

The Big Sioux River in Sioux Falls: 57th to 26th St.

2011-06-23T14:44:00.000-07:00

This noon as I was just fixing my lunch of cold cereal, Dave Finck called and invited me along on a Big Sioux River cruise with his old pal Ken, one of the group on a Boundary Waters Canoe Area trip last summer. My immediate response to an unexpected invitation is normally to decline; I guess that I am not the most spontaneous person around. There are too many other things that I have in my mind set for the day: reading my novel, watching cable news on TV, taking a nap. But, when I can get out of my rocking chair and do take advantage of a spontaneous invitation, I am nearly always so thankful that I could shake myself out of a sense of inevitable routine and do something.

So, after reflecting for a few minutes and reminding myself of earlier resolve to take advantage of unanticipated opportunities, I called him back and agreed to meet at 1:15 p.m. at the 57th Street put-in. Dave and Ken had already left a car at the 26th Street take-out, so in short order we were underway and out into the stream.

The 57th Street access point is an easy put-in, even with the high water and fast flow. After pushing off and entering the main current, we were off on a fast ride downstream. The distance between put-in and take-out is about 4.5 miles, and we made the trip in one hour and fifteen minutes.

The river was very high; I could barely touch bottom with my double paddle when I checked the depth along the way. I would say that the most common depth was between five and six feet.

The growth along the river is at its seasonal height now, and moving downstream was like being in a green tunnel with tall trees fully leafed out and tall grasses along the banks. The river is perhaps 100 feet or so in width along the way; there were no sweepers that impeded our progress, and no gravel bars or shallow areas.

The rapids just downstream of Cliff Avenue that begin under the bike trail bridge are a special challenge on most trips down the river. I normally begin to tense up a bit as they approach. Today though, the river was so high that the rapids were nearly unnoticed. We took the right side of the stream and just cruised through.

Moving fast downstream, we saw little in the way of wildlife. I saw a couple of turtles, including a big one; but, the current was so fast that we just flashed by.

The take-out at 26th Street is used by the YMCA staff at Camp Leif Erickson, so it is filled with cars. The exit from the river was pretty easy, and suddenly the cruise was over. It was a great interlude in the day and another reminder to take advantage of unexpected opportunities.

Split Rock Creek - Corson to McHardy Park

2011-06-12T19:45:00.000-07:00

David and Mary Finck and Larry Braaten led a cruise this afternoon on Split Rock Creek, beginning about a mile and a-half northwest of Corson and ending at McHardy Park on the west end of Brandon. The put-in was off of 259th Street, and the road distance to the take-out was four miles. By creek travel, the distance clocked on one of the party’s gps was just over 6.5 miles.

It was a partly sunny day today with a stiff wind and a temperature in the high 60s. Eight paddlers gathered at McHardy Park and used a vehicle shuttle to move the kayaks to the put-in spot, under a bridge across Split Rock Creek and accessible through a path within high grass. We then drove the cars back to McHardy Park and returned in Dave’s van.

We shoved off into the creek about 2:10 p.m. to make our way downstream, moving into a relatively fast current and in water that was generally four to five feet deep. The waterway was usually about 50 feet wide. There were several riffles along the way, just fast enough to focus attention on the passage.

The shoreline along the creek is elevated and wooded; therefore, the wind was diminished, although it always seemed as though we were going into a head wind regardless of the curves along the route.

A couple of miles along the way, we came to a dam across the creek topped by a road at a large concrete or gravel plant. Several culverts extend under the road, and all the flow from the creek is forced through these four or five culverts. We had to portage over the road, and this served as a rest stop for us.

Continuing downstream, the creek was unchanged: fifty or more feet wide, plenty of depth, wooded shoreline, and a fairly fast flow of the current.

Everything was fine, and we were cruising along until we came upon a large tree across the entire width of the creek – a strainer! We were spread across the width of the creek as we came upon the strainer, and those on the left side found themselves unable to escape the flow: they were swept into the tree, the trunk of which was about three feet off the surface of the water. The tree had recently fallen, there were leaves still on the branches.

Three of the kayaks found themselves in this situation. I was toward the rear of the grouping and found myself also in the grip of a steadily increasing current flowing toward and under the tree. Fortunately for me, I heard the warning of people ahead of me and began back-paddling as hard as I could and was able to make it to the right side of the creek and stop myself along the bank. Except for those three kayaks caught in the strainer, the others made it to the right bank as well.

One of the paddlers was able to free herself and move on somehow and escape the trap. Two others, however were caught up at the trunk of the downed tree, facing downstream but unable to get under the tree. Of course, it was impossible to back up, and the cut-bank on the left made it impossible to get out of the kayaks.

So, there we were: Mary in one kayak with the bow under the trunk, and Rick in another similarly caught in the high velocity flow alongside. With some coaching from the shoreline and Robin, the man of the hour, wading out into the waist-deep water to lend a hand, Mary was able to lean backwards in the kayak so that she could move under the tree trunk and out from the strainer. Unfortunately, though, as she was holding on and trying to avoid a capsize, her paddle got away from her and was lost downstream.

Rick tried the same approach, but as he leaned back to fit under the tree trunk, the kayak capsized and he found himself in the water. With the help of Robin, he was able to move the kayak away from the tree so that it could be emptied of water. Even as he went over and had to make a “wet exit,” he managed to hold on to his paddle.

After the two paddlers were out of danger, the remaining problem was finding propulsion for Mary’s kayak. No one had an extra paddle, so the choices were to take apart one of the other kayak paddles and have two people share the two parts or to tow Mary the remaining couple of miles to McHardy Park. I had a rope with me, and Roger, a powerful paddler in great shape, volunteered to tow Mary to the take-out.

At the downstream end of McHardy Park, there is a set of rapids, a pretty big set of steep rapids. This was the end of the cruise, and the choices were to get out above the rapids or to continue through and get out just below them. There was no real advantage in concluding the trip by going through the rapids, and I had decided not to do that. But, the majority of our party wanted to shoot through these rapids, and I did not want to be thought of as a lesser paddler, so I went along too. I was the last to approach the rapids, and people were shouting to me to go over at the center. Earlier, I was informed that the left side was the best route. So, I was conflicted as I approached the rapids. When I heard the shouting, it was too late, and I went over at the worst point. My kayak got hung up momentarily on a big rock with water pounding all around me. I felt sure that I was about to be flung into the raging water. Somehow, though, my kayak slid off and I was suddenly through the slot. Those standing on the banks thought I was about to go over as well and only wished for a camera to record my last moments.

This was a new stretch of Split Rock Creek for me, and it adds to trips that I have taken downstream from McHardy Park to the confluence with the Big Sioux River, and on to the Highway 42 bridge at the newly developing arboretum. I like these waterways, set down below elevated banks and relatively obscure. The lessons of today will stay with me: (1) Travel with others on moving water; (2) Consider taking a spare paddle in the event of a wet exit and the disappearance of your paddle; (3) Never relax your vigil on moving water, a strainer or set of unpleasant rapids can come upon you without much warning.

Kayaking with Derek - Lake Alvin, June 2011

2011-06-06T14:02:00.000-07:00

What can be better than spending a couple of hours kayaking with your adult son on an area lake! My son, Derek, called last night and asked if I was up to a kayak cruise on Lake Alvin. This morning he arrived on a bicycle at our home by 9:00 a.m., and I had the kayaks all loaded up: my 13 foot dagger on top of the car, and the Folbot Aleut bagged up and on the rear seat of our Honda Civic hybrid.

When we arrived at the public access area on the northwestern end of the lake, the temperature was already near 90 degrees and there was only a whisper of wind; the lake was nearly mirror calm. There were a couple of fishing boats out on the lake, and from a distance we saw someone launching a kayak.

We headed northeast on the lake, keeping to the southeastern shore, trying in vain to find some shade under the tree cover.

As we moved to the northeastern end, just to the right of the fishing dock, we ran into a herd of cattle trying to cool off in the lake. This is not a sight that I have seen before on Lake Alvin, although part of the land on the eastern shoreline is private property. Derek was amused by the loud conversation among the cows as more of them crowded into the shallow water.

We continued into the spillway, just to check out the flow and the scene. There was a brown coating on sections of the lake today, sort of like algae, but brown rather than green. I think this was apparent because of the exceptional calm over the surface of the lake. A few people were visible on the swimming beach soaking up some rays.

Our return to the southern end took us past the public access dock and into Nine Mile Creek. We crossed under the bridge and stopped for a few minutes to observe the cliff swallows in their pouch shaped mud nests. I could see heads peeking out of the entrance hole of the nests and clouds of birds flying in the nesting area under the bridge.

As I normally do on a Lake Alvin cruise, we continued up the creek to the point where it narrows down into a rocky channel. There was plenty of depth to the water today. We did not see much in the way of animal life, except for a few jumping fish, an occasional turtle, and lots of perching birds. I guess that it was just too scorching outside for animals to hang about on the shoreline.

This was the first cruise of the year for the Folbot. It went together easily today and seemed eager to get back on the water after so many months resting in bags within the backyard shed.

It was altogether a fine day.

Water Sampling Project at Lake Alvin

2011-06-04T19:19:00.001-07:00

Over the past few years, members of the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association have assisted Dakota Water Watch with a water-sampling project of area lakes. This is an effort to develop a base line and interval data to record trends in our area waterways. This year, we gathered at Lake Alvin to receive directions from the Dakota Water Watch representative, and about five teams set out in kayaks to predetermined locations around the lake to record observations and take water samples for laboratory analysis.

We recorded observations regarding visible and actual depth of the water, clarity, water temperature, and color. In addition, we made meteorology observations of conditions that might have an impact upon our data. We also collected samples of water at our assigned sites that were bagged and taken for laboratory analysis.

A water sampling activity undertaken by a fleet of kayaks that spreads out over the lake surface doesn’t take long. Most participants also get in a little bit of a cruise as well.

As my partner and I set out, we came across two young guys in an inflatable kayak. The older of the two told me that he bought the kayak recently at a rummage sale in Harrisburg for $60, including the paddles. They were having a great time fishing; I noticed that their anchor was a small bar bell weight secured by a rope. The guy who bought the boat told me that it was deflated at the rummage sale, but he was assured that it held air, and it did. This was their second cruise. So, for a $60 investment, they are able to go out on area waterways. As I looked at the high freeboard of the inflatable, though, I knew that it would be tough to deal with windy conditions.

The day continued at Lake Alvin with the annual canoe/kayak fair where people could try out various boats. It was a great opportunity for people who wanted to give kayaking a low risk try. This year, however, I was not able to stay for the fair. There were, however, many boats available and plenty of skilled SDCKA members to serve as coaches.

Two Recent Grads on Canoe Expedition to Hudson Bay

2011-05-31T07:51:00.000-07:00

In 1930, Eric Sevareid, who would go on to become one of the top CBS radio and television reporters and commentators of the 1940s -1970s, graduated from high school in Minneapolis and, with a pal, set off in a canoe for Hudson Bay. He wrote about this expedition in a book entitled Canoeing With the Cree in 1935, a book still available and one of the classics in canoe wilderness travel. I read this book many years ago and remember it still. Eric Sevareid was paired up with Walter Cronkite for many years, and I remember him well during that period when CBS news was the dominate broadcast voice on television.

This year, two young women who are just now graduating from St. Olaf Collage in Northfield, Minnesota, are setting out on June 2 from Fort Snelling in Minneapolis to recreate the Sevareid journey. Their website at http://hudsonbaybound.com gives details of their plan, and they are documenting the voyage on a blog at http://www.hudsonbaybound.blogspot.com/. I plan to vicariously follow along on this 2,250 mile trip that begins on the Mississippi River, into the Minnesota River, on to Big Stone Lake, down the north flowing Red River of the North, to Lake Winnipeg, into the Hayes River, then to York Factory on Hudson Bay.

Although a few others have recreated this journey over the years, these two young grads hope to become the first women to follow Sevareid’s path. I try to tag along on expeditions like this, much as I do with Roz Savage’s row around the world. Expeditions like this are inspiring to me. I like to follow people who set out on their own path to challenge themselves and nature rather than follow a more traditional route to career, financial entanglements, and conformity. So, I will be checking in regularly to see how their trip is going.

Grass Lake - May 2011

2011-05-24T13:48:00.000-07:00

Looking ahead at the forecast yesterday, I assumed that today would be the best day for a kayak cruise this week. With that mind set, I loaded up the kayak last night and headed out this morning for Grass Lake. As I left the house at 5:45 a.m. for my customary stop at the local bagel shop for coffee and a little novel reading, it was still dark. When I headed west along Highway 42 (12th Street), I saw that the sky was totally overcast, there was a moderate wind, and the temperature was in the mid 50s. I thought that I saw sprinkles on the windshield as I drove on; still, a decision to head out with the kayak lashed to the car top had been made, so on I drove.

Locating Grass Lake requires specific directions, and earlier narratives (see the menu to the right side of the blog) provide turn-by-turn directions. On most of the isolated prairie lakes in the region, signage for public access areas is not a strength of the Department of Game, Fish, and Parks, and anyone heading out to this lake really should check out the specific directions.

The lake was deserted when I arrived at 7:20 a.m., as it is has always been on my weekday morning cruises over the years. The launching area is just a rock pathway, and even that has markedly deteriorated over the winter. While a kayak or canoe can be muscled down the pathway and into the water, I don’t see how anything larger could be launched, especially a boat on a trailer.

The wind was blowing briskly through the trees as I launched from the southeastern shore, but there was a lee side sheltered from the wind by the banks and tree cover for about 25 feet offshore. The wind was blowing out of the south, down the lake. My normal route for this cruise is counter clockwise, heading northwest down the lake, past the first of two islands.

As I moved away from the lee side of the lake, the waves built up until they were crashing over the bow. Still, I continued down my normal route looking for “critters” in the brush of the shoreline and watching the many birds fleeing my presence: great blue heron, pelicans, geese, ducks, and egrets.

As I continued down the northeastern shoreline heading west, everything was smooth. If I got out too far, the waves would send my kayak rocking up and down with spray drenching my pants, shirt, and glasses.

After arrival at the northwestern end of the lake, I continued my route over on the western side, heading back south, continuing the counter clockwise pattern. As the lake widened out on the return, it became apparent that kayaking on the western side would be a battle all the way back, and I would have to cross the lake again at its widest point.

Most of my paddling is alone on these out-of-the way lakes. At this time of the year, I sometimes feel a little anxious about wave action when I am pretty far out in the lake, far out enough that swimming to shore in cold water is not likely to be a positive experience. I felt a little that way this morning, so prudence seemed to dictate abandoning my routine and returning back up the lake along the lee shore. So, I crossed over and had a much more tranquil paddle back along the same route I used going down.

I visited some of the wetlands along the eastern shore. These are not as extensive as found on many of the area lakes, but it is still possible to move up through the reeds and check out the backwaters. Two or three times I head a chorus of frogs calling out. Somehow, these creatures are able to sense the approach of an intruder. Like turning off a switch, the chorus ceased upon the approach of my kayak – as silent as I tried to be.

This was a good early morning cruise, although I would prefer warmer temperatures, calm waters, and sunny skies. Still, this is the day that I had, and I am glad that I had an opportunity for a couple of hours on Grass Lake.

Lake Pahoja (Iowa) May 2011

2011-05-17T13:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the forecast for today looked good, and the prediction for later in the week called for rain; so, I just left my kayak on the rack and thought I would take advantage of another sunny moderate day ahead.

It has been four years since I last visited Lake Pahoja, just across the border in Iowa. I checked the blog entry for that visit (see Lake Pahoja on the location menu on the right side of the blog) and followed my directions the 20.4 miles. The easiest way there from my eastside Sioux Falls home is to head south on Highway 11, past the Lake Alvin turn-off, to 276th Street. I turned east there and drove on for about three miles, across the Klondike Canoe Access on the Big Sioux River and into Iowa until I saw the sign on the right for the park. Lake Pahoja is a really nice Lyon County park that offers a range of wonderful recreational opportunities, especially for families and particularly for those interested in shoreline fishing.

There is a $5 entry fee for the park, but the office was deserted and there seemed no way to pay this morning. As I arrived, there was a pick-up and boat trailer in the parking lot; otherwise, I was alone.

The lake is oriented generally east and west with deep bays extending south. It is rather long but narrow and surrounded by county-owned land. There are no houses visible, eliminating the feeling that I sometimes have that wealthy people have built their large and ostentatious homes overlooking the lake and making me feel like an intruder.

This carefully developed park clearly caters to families and fishing. There are earthen extensions projecting out into the lake to give fishermen an advantage. No gas motors are allowed on the lake, and that provides an assurance of some tranquility. A rental business at the launching dock offers rowboats, canoes, and paddleboats - both “water bikes” and the more traditional type.

I set out first heading east along the shoreline of this nearly 100 acre lake (flood stage) and then moved south into the wetlands surrounding a couple of inlets at the southeastern end.

There was a great deal of bird life to observe; this time, I saw lots of redwing blackbirds among the variety of perching birds. There were also a number of duck of various kinds.

The wind was light, but I wanted to give my Spirit sail a try and found myself sailing back along the east-west axis to the next south extending bay. I found myself fumbling with the sail; as the wind increased, I tried to take it down or move it to a different setting and felt myself losing control of the sail. I could not seem to get it down, and my balance was slipping. The wind was not enough to make me feel any sense of anxiety, but I wondered what I might do with stronger gusts. I believe that the umbrella may be the best bet for me when sailing the kayak: it is easier to manage and safer.

I did not see any sign of wildlife except for turtles and the birds. This park is a wildlife refuge, so I assume that there are “critters” about, although they are probably wily with the developed state of the site.

As I was finishing my trip around the two-mile perimeter of the lake, a school bus pulled up. The passengers, I found, were high school students from a PE class at West Lyon High School. They were festooned with fishing poles and spread themselves out along the shoreline and on the docks. I had a chat with the driver and found that he was a retired social studies teacher who had become a bus driver for the same school he served as a teacher. As we stood there, he reminisced about how back in the 1960s he had hunted pheasants out in fields that were now at the bottom out in the central portion of the lake. He told me that there was a little creek flowing through, and that some visionaries had decided to try and create a lake and park. That effort certainly was successful, and Lake Pahoja is a magnificent addition to the quality of life in this part of Iowa and South Dakota.

My impression of the lake has changed since my first narrative. Paddling Lake Pahoja is not high adventure, but it can offer an hour and a-half of tranquility without driving too far. The park is only about 25 minutes from my home – just ten minutes further than Lake Alvin. So, for tranquility and a contemplative paddle or as a venue for teaching a novice beginning kayaking skills, this is a good spot and I recommend it.

Beaver Lake - May 2011

2011-05-16T11:58:00.001-07:00

After a string of cool, rainy, and windy days, the Sioux Falls area is slated for about three days of sun with temperatures up into the high 60s. I could not let the opportunity for a peaceful cruise on an area lake pass, so this morning I headed out early to Beaver Lake, just on the southern edge of Humboldt and within sight of Interstate 90.

The road to the lake access area runs along the edge of the cemetery and just west of the Humboldt elementary school. Today, the road was pretty rough with lots of potholes. Approaching the southern edge of I90, the road turns east and winds along the edge of the lake. The entrance into the public access area has a small and easy to miss sign. For most of these “out of the way” lakes, the state does not expend many resources to guide the traveler to public access areas. It is essential to have a detailed map or set of directions.

The temperature as I arrived at the lake was in the high 30s, the sky was cloudless, and there was a light to moderate wind blowing out of the north; as usual, the lake was deserted. I could hardly wait to unload my kayak and set off.

I followed my normal Beaver Lake cruise route and headed first out to the island located offshore, just northeast of the access point. This large island is a favorite of mine; it seems like a bird sanctuary, and today it was populated by flocks of blackbirds with the occasional egret flying overhead. I circumnavigated the island, peering into the interior looking at the vegetation that is in its early spring growth, listening to the cacophony of bird sounds, and searching for “critters.” As I paddled around the island shoreline, I could hear duck and geese sounds from the grasses and reeds just into the interior.

From the island, again following my usual route, I continued east into the rising sun and headed north along the shoreline into the large northern appendage of the lake. My landmark along this route is an old windmill along the eastern shore that marks an entrance to a wetlands, a place full of beaver lodges, tall grasses and reeds, and a nesting place for a variety of perching birds and waterfowl. This is a tranquil spot, regardless of the windy conditions that so often characterize this wide and open lake.

After cruising around the pool that marks the end of the wetlands channel, I headed back to the main body of the lake and continued down the northeastern arm to another entrance into a wetlands, this time moving northwest. This channel leads inland about 200 yards or so past more beaver lodges and tall grasses.

I love these wetlands with their channels and wider ponds. This is where the cattails grow, the beaver build their lodges, and the mama ducks teach their babies how to stay away from the man in the red kayak. There were lots of yellow-headed blackbirds perching on the reeds along my transit down the channels.

My return path led me back along the southern shoreline toward the island. As I reached the far eastern shore, a few hundred yards from the island, I spotted another red kayak. In my eight previous cruises on Beaver Lake, I have never seen another kayak or canoe. I could not resist heading over to chat with the paddler, a woman bundled up in a lightweight parka who lives in the area and frequently kayaks the lake; in fact, she told me that she thought of this as “her pond.”

In rather typical fashion, the wind had freshened since I arrived and the light winds became decidedly moderate with temperatures up to the mid 50s.

As I finished up my cruise and headed to the access area, I saw that an older gent had arrived and had his fishing equipment spread out at the end of the dock. We chatted a bit and I loaded up my kayak. My cruise this morning was about 90 minutes.

Lake Alvin - Early May 2010

2011-05-10T11:51:00.000-07:00

Seasons can change quickly here on the northern plains. It was just a week or two ago when the water in the birdbath mounted on our deck was frozen in the morning. Today, the temperature is expected to rise to about 90 degrees. We are into a series of windy days now; of course, it windy here much of the time, but I wanted to take advantage of the timing for an early paddle before it got too breezy for a comfortable time on open lakes.

So, this morning after my morning routine of coffee and reading at my favorite bagel place, I set out for the short drive to Lake Alvin.

After setting off from the public access launching area on the southwestern end of the lake, I set off with a following wind and headed across to the eastern shore and north toward the dam and public fishing dock.

Since I was going with the wind, I took out the big golf umbrella and sailed most of the trip north. The wind was strong enough to raise a respectable wake from the kayak; I held onto the umbrella and used my foot-mounted rudder to control direction.

I lost the wind toward the northeastern end of the lake and headed over to the shoreline to cruise along looking into the vegetation along the bank, hoping to spot some animal life. Suddenly, I saw a moderate-sized animal that was about 2½ feet long, with short legs low to the ground, a head something like a seal, and brown in color. This critter moved along the shoreline, stopped and looked at me, changed directions, and then vanished before I could fumble my camera out. This animal seemed like a weasel or perhaps a mink, although I have never seen either one in the wild and am only guessing.

My easy sail north on the lake meant that I would have to slog my way back south in the face of a stiff head wind. As I moved south, astonishingly, I came across another paddler. I paddled over to say hello to Jeff and check out his craft. He was paddling a solo Bell kevlar canoe – the type of boat I had before shifting to kayaks. Actually, as I have gotten older, I have considered moving back to a solo canoe.

Of course, I had to continue south into Nine-Mile Creek; a Lake Alvin cruise would be incomplete without including this segment of the paddle.

Nine-Mile Creek begins with a width of about 30 feet; as it continues south, it gradually narrows down over the course of about a mile to a steady width of about 15 feet. At the end, the creek is so narrow that it is difficult to turn around.

I got out of the kayak just before the bridge to take a photograph of the course of the creek. At that point, I came across a guy who I thought was hiking along the creek shoreline. I thought that such a stroll would be tough in that terrain. As it happened, he was retrieving a lure that he had lost while fishing. I met him again on the return, but he still had not caught anything.

Along the cruise, I came across a number of ducks and geese. Perching birds along both sides of the creek offered their continuing songs. Frogs were also croaking in wetlands that extended off the course of the creek. There were lots of turtles out sunning themselves.

As I ended my cruise and headed over to the “take-out,” I came across two kayaks heading south toward Nine-Mile Creek. I began to feel that crowds of paddlers were pressing in! These two kayaks disappeared around the point and up into the creek as I was packing up my boat.

I was out for about two hours this morning.

Split Rock Creek - The Palisades May 2011

2011-05-06T14:15:00.000-07:00

This morning was the start of a beautiful day in Sioux Falls, and I took advantage of it by taking my kayak out to Split Rock Creek for a cruise upstream from the dam at the Garretson City park through the palisades.

It was 50 degrees under hazy sunshine as I passed through Garretson to the park. Within the park is a dam that impounds the creek upstream for something over a mile. Downstream, the creek passes through Palisades State Park, moves on through McHardy Park in Brandon and joins the Big Sioux River just a little southeast of Brandon.

My cruise this morning was upstream of the dam. This is an area with high palisades of Sioux quartzite festooned with a variety of flora, including spruce trees growing on ledges and out of cracks.
Cruises on this body of water are for me an opportunity to examine the rock formations; marvel at the tenacity of plant life growing on the tops, along the sides, and in the cracks; and watch the bird life, especially cliff swallows and geese. Today, I saw a few ducks and several pairs of geese, loudly honking at me as they protect their nests from intruders. There are a couple of farms in that area on the left moving upstream, and cows were out chomping the fresh spring grass along the left bank.
There is a set of rapids a little over a mile upstream, and this is generally the limit of cruises along this stretch.

On the way back, I nearly always duck into one of the arches supporting a bridge leading deeper into the campground. There is a gulch that leads back for a couple hundred yards, and I like to move along this body of water that is also framed by palisades, although not as tall as those along the creek. The gulch ends at a brook that flows into the creek. This gulch, of course, is locally known as Devil’s Gulch, the supposed spot where Jesse James escaped by jumping across as a posse chased him after a bank robbery in Minnesota.

The only other water craft that I have seen on this portion of Split Rock is a large pontoon boat that takes passengers on a cruise up the same route I traveled, except under the arched bridge into the gulch. Today, the boat was taking a group of children on an adventure. The “SS Jesse James” skipper told me today that there are people who kayak this stretch on weekends. My lake cruises, however, are nearly always during the week; as a retired gent, I have that liberty and enjoy kayaking during what are working hours for most people and were also for me for 45 years or so.

I have written frequently about cruises on this portion of Split Rock Creek, and the reader can just move over to the menu on the right side of the blog and access earlier narratives of this route. As I have said before, this is one of the places I take guests of mine out for their first or second kayak ride. The scenery is spectacular, at least for waterways in this area.

Lake Vermillion - the west end, up the creek

2011-04-28T12:53:00.001-07:00

After a long set of dreary days, the forecast for today promised a brief return to spring weather: partly sunny, a temperature up to perhaps 70 degrees, winds from 10-20 mph, and NO RAIN. I got up this morning shortly after 5:00 a.m., loaded up my kayak, and set out in the dawn for my morning read, coffee, and a bagel at my habitual breakfast spot before heading west to Lake Vermillion.

As the highway was full of people commuting to their jobs, I headed west out of town along Interstate 90 to the turnoff to the Lake Vermillion State Recreation Area. I turned south at the Montrose exit; there is a sculpture garden on the south side of this exit featuring large metal sculpture works visible from the Interstate, a Hittite-like bull with curved horns prominent among them.

The Recreation Area was deserted as I arrived, as is nearly always the case on these early (7:45 a.m.) morning mid-week cruises. The temperature was in the 30s, and I had to wear a jacket and gloves. My pfd functioned sort of like a vest to keep me warm. I had decided to cruise down the west arm of the lake to the feeder creek coming out of the northwest wetlands.

I headed into choppy waters on the way down the western arm to the northern feeder creek. Toward the end of the western arm, I came across a flock of about eight pelicans. This is the end of the lake that is surrounded by deep reeds, some elevation along the banks, and lots of vegetation. There are a couple of feeder creeks that lead back into the wetlands.

Once into the creek, the higher banks tended to provide a lee to the winds. I saw lots of nesting ducks of several varieties. The feeder creek started out at about 25 feet in width and progressively narrowed down as I continued north. The depth ranged from five to about three feet.

I continued north, much as I have done before, until reaching a set of rocky rapids that did not permit further passage. By this point, the creek was much narrower than my kayak, and the biggest challenge was finding a spot wide enough to turn around.

Coming back down the creek was especially tranquil. The wind was blowing softly through the bare trees and brush and the sound of birds was constant. The trees had perching birds, such as redwing blackbirds, there were many ducks that darted about, pelicans overhead, and seagulls. I just used my rudder to steer and floated quietly along the waterway observing the spring bird life and the changing landscape. Winter brown is being replaced by budding bushes and green grass.

On this trip, I got out of the kayak and traveled along a deer trail through the high brown grass to an elevation offering a view of the course of the creek. This was the first time that I have done this. I’m afraid that a little later in the season would have left me with a full compliment of ticks to deal with. I remember bringing my Folbot to the shore on the Vermillion River that feeds into Lake Vermillion on the northeaster end and finding a dozen or so ticks on the fabric of the boat. I try to avoid ticks as best as I can.

Coming back to the launch area, I rode along with wind-driven waves that were perhaps six to eight inches in height. I passed the pelicans again. Arriving at the dock, I was still the only person in the area. It was a pleasant beginning to the day, and I really like these morning cruises.

Roz Savage - Ocean Rower

2011-04-23T19:27:00.000-07:00

For the past year and a half or so, I have been following the rowing adventures of Roz Savage, a remarkable woman from the UK as she has been rowing single-handed first across the Atlantic, then from California to Hawaii, on to Tarawa in the Gilbert Islands, and continuing her Pacific journey to New Guinea. Recently, she set out from Australia to cross the Indian Ocean to India. She has a blog, which I check into daily at http://www.rozsavage.com/ One of her colleagues in Norway does a weekly podcast interview with her that can be found at Roz Roams on i-Tunes, and I listen to their conversation on my morning walks. There are a number of links on her blog that illustrate aspects of her travels, including her departure last week from Fremantle, Australia.

Roz Savage has a terrific personal narrative, a compelling story of what led her to take up oars and tackle the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans alone in a customized rowboat. One of my sons alerted me to her as she began her crossing from California to Hawaii, and I have vicariously followed along on her voyages since then. Her daily accounts of the voyage have become a part of my routine, and I recommend checking out Roz and her amazing travels. This latest element to her crossings is expected to last about four months.

Lake Lakota - April 2011

2011-04-12T12:20:00.000-07:00

Here in Sioux Falls, the weather has been wonderful today. Upon learning of the probable weather for this week, it was clear that a kayaking cruise had to be on my agenda today. This seems likely to be the last such day for the week; there is even snow forecast for this week in southeastern South Dakota. North of here, in the Watertown area and further north, there is still ice on lakes.

This morning, I left town about 8:00 a.m., and the temperature on a bank I passed read 46 degrees. The forecast called for a high today of nearly 70 degrees.

Lake Lakota is part of the Newton Hills State Park and located just south of Canton. It is about a 25-minute drive from our eastside Sioux Falls home. The lake is set within the boundaries of the park and is a protected nature area. This is a very tranquil spot, surrounded by trees – mostly coniferous trees that provide nice color regardless of the season.

The public areas of the lake are set in a hollow among low hills. The launching area is on the north central part of the lake and includes picnic areas, a swimming beach, a boat ramp, toilets, and new this year is a fishing pier just to the west of the swimming beach.

The wind was light when I launched my kayak. There was a flat calm on some sheltered parts of the lake and light waves elsewhere: a wonderful surface for my kind of nature-watching contemplative paddles.

I set out on my usual circle around the shoreline, heading southeast from the launching area to the first of the bays or inlets. I like to move into these inlets and look for wildlife as well as observe the vegetation along the shoreline and into the trees. These are the areas where I am most likely to see interesting animal life.

Inevitably, I seem compelled to proceed into these inlets as far as I can go in my kayak, then usually having to back out because of the narrowing course of the waterway.

As I moved south on the lake toward the dam on the southeastern end, I saw the largest flock of pelicans that I can recall. There were several dozen of them clustered like a floating white island across the southwestern part of the lake.

As I began my return trip north on this main body of the lake, the flock began slowly moving away from me. I would paddle toward them, and the flock just didn’t seem to close much.

When the flock began to sense that my kayak was close enough, it first split into two parts and then the pelicans began to fly off to circle nearby.

I wondered what would bring so many pelicans to this small (90 acres) lake. Then, I thought about the large number of fish that I saw. In the bay along the northwestern end, I came across large schools of fish that were four or five inches in length. These fish flashed by my kayak. I also saw very large numbers of small fish – fingerlings. It occurred to me that perhaps the SD Game Fish and Parks staff had “stocked” the lake this spring and that the pelicans were having a feast of these small fish.

My favorite part of the lake is the northwestern arm that extends up to the entrance of Pattee Creek. This is the area where I tend see the greatest variety of wildlife. In the summer, there are large lily pads and lots of aquatic grasses on and just below the surface. Big frogs are frequently seen sitting on the lily pads, and turtles of all sizes are seen.

Today, I came across a great blue heron, ducks, geese, and one turtle.

The water conditions and the lay of the trees, bushes, and grasses are always interesting to me along this shoreline.

I thought that I was alone on the lake, a condition that I usually enjoy in these small prairie lakes on a spring weekday. But then, I came across a guy fishing from the southwest shoreline in that western arm of the lake. We exchanged pleasantries while he was casting his line out into the lake.

The circle of the lake shoreline and my meandering up into bays took me about an hour and fifteen minutes. By the time I began making my way back to the launching area, the wind had increased in strength and the lake had developed a noticeable chop. The lesson for kayaking the lakes of South Dakota: start early in the morning!

The First Cruise of 2011: Lake Alvin

2011-04-05T13:50:00.001-07:00

This was the day I have been waiting for since last November! Although the lakes 100 miles north of Sioux Falls are still ice covered, the paddling season has returned to lakes in this part of the state. The ice is out on Lake Alvin, and the Department of Game, Fish, and Parks has installed the docks. With the forecast of a glorious day and temperatures into the high 50s, I could not resist the opportunity to take my first cruise of the season.

I loaded up my kayak about noon and drove the fifteen minutes to Lake Alvin. The skies were partly sunny and there was a moderate wind out of the northeast. As I passed a digital bank thermometer near East 26th Street and Sycamore, the temperature was 58 degrees.

A few weeks ago, I saw an ad in Canoe/Kayak Magazine for a kayak-carrying strap; I ordered the strap and today used it for the first time. This strap makes it easier for a geezer like me to carry the kayak, and I think that it will reduce the strain of moving the kayak from the car to the waterway.

There was a moderate wind blowing down the lake, so I headed southwest and into Nine Mile Creek. For those who would like to explore this creek, you must move down the southern shore, keeping close to the left bank. There is a shallow area that extends over about two-thirds of the southern end of the lake leading up to the entrance to Nine Mile Creek, and failure to keep to the left bank will probably lead to grounding in the mud and gravel shallows.

Nine Mile Creek is the most promising area for spotting wildlife in the Lake Alvin system. The creek winds along, moving steadily south, under the bridge, and into a game production area. The waterway narrows down as it moves further south; still, the depth is generally sufficient throughout the year to continue for a little more than a mile. The width of the creek ranges from about 10 to 20 feet.

Along Nine Mile Creek, I came across a group of four egrets, and they allowed me to approach to about 30 feet or so. I also saw a great blue heron, lots of ducks, nesting geese, a muskrat, and my first turtle of the year.

A close examination of the vegetation revealed the first signs of new growth in the shoreline grasses.

Coming back into the main body of Lake Alvin, I found that the wind strength had increased, and I decided that I had been out on the water long enough for this first cruise.

As usual, I was alone on the water. I saw no one along the shoreline either. I really like this time to cruise along in silence, listening to the water along the shore, the constant chatter of birds, and the sound of the wind moving through the trees.

Ice Almost Out - Rivers Flooded

2011-04-03T12:11:00.001-07:00

This afternoon I took a drive out to Lake Alvin and the Big Sioux River access point nearby. The first stop was at the public access along the northwest shore, just off of Highway 11,west along County Road 110, to 479th Ave. This is my usual entry point to Lake Alvin, and it does not require a state park sticker. The ice has melted in this part of the lake and the way seems clear to paddle across and up into Nine Mile Creek. Then, I drove up to the Lake Alvin Recreation Area to check out the ice in the wider part, up at the northeastern end. A park sticker is required for entry into the Recreation Area. Standing up on the hill overlooking the main body of the lake, I could see a large ice floe extending from the center of the lake over to the southern shore. I would think that this remaining ice will disappear within days. The docks have not been installed as yet at either launching ramp.

Since the weather forecast projects temperatures into the mid 50s later in the week, I think that I will put the rack on my Honda Civic and venture out onto the lake from the public access point and check out any signs of spring. I am anxious to move out onto the water, and that moment is only days off now.

After looking over the lake, I headed over to the public access point for the Big Sioux River near Lake Alvin, to the bridge just off 272nd Street.

This is a well-used canoe/kayak access to the river for cruises from Brandon and then on to Canton. I have used it several times for these BSR trips. The governor has issued an order prohibiting all travel along the BSR during the spring flooding – until further notice. So, I just wanted to check out the extent of flooding along this familiar section of the river. The water is moving fast, the river is quite wide, and I am sure that there are strainer hazards from downed trees and debris flowing downstream.

Also, it might be tough to get on and off the river. The prohibition of all travel is a wise move; the river is dangerous at this stage. The penalties for disregarding the order are substantial.

SDCKA Annual Winter Conference - 2011

2011-01-30T10:10:00.000-08:00

The South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association (SDCKA) annual winter conference was held at the Outdoor Campus in Sioux Falls yesterday afternoon, Saturday, January 29. The group gathered for four hours of programming and fellowship in anticipation of paddling activities for the upcoming season. The first SDCKA sponsored event for this year will be pool training in managing a wet exit or rolling to be held at the YWCA swimming pool in Sioux Falls on Sunday, February 13. This is an event for SDCKA members, and any readers interested in membership and/or participating in this training event should connect with the club officers through the SDCKA blog (http://www.sdcka.blogspot.com). The SDCKA blog is the major communication link for those interested in paddling within our area. Upcoming events are described, and follow-up information for sessions presented at the conference is presented on the blog.

The conference began with a review by Steven Dahlmeier, president of the SDCKA, of the events sponsored by the SDCKA over the past year, including cruises, public service, safety and training, and the South Dakota Kayak Challenge.

Included in the presentations at the conference was a session on paddling with children offered by Cory Diedrich, one of the SDCKA Board of Directors members. Jarett Bies, the SDCKA vice president, presented a harrowing tale of how things can go wrong on the Missouri River when caught up in high winds and waves. Information sessions of interest to area paddlers were offered by officials of the City of Sioux Falls, the National Park Service, and the East Dakota Water Development District.

(Photo by Jarett Bies)
Two members of the Black Hills Paddlers club presented a session on the thrill of white water kayaking and the safety concerns associated with that exciting aspect of paddling.

A slate of 15 officers was presented and elected to serve the organization over the next year. Steven Dahlmeier was continued into his second year as president, and Jarett Bies will also continue into his second year as vice president.

I urge area paddlers to strongly consider affiliating with the SDCKA as a member. Membership offers the chance to participate with others in the many cruises and events sponsored by the club and to share in the organization. The cost of membership is only $10.00, and information on joining is available on the SDCKA blog.

End of the 2010 Paddling Season

2010-12-07T15:10:00.001-08:00

If we are lucky with the weather, those of us here in the Sioux Falls area can hope for a paddling season that begins toward the end of March and continues on into mid-November. The season this year was as much as any of us could hope for in that regard. My first venture on the water was on Lake Alvin on March 30, and the last cruise was on Split Rock Creek on November 14. Between those dates, I wrote blog entries for 30 cruises that ranged from rivers, creeks, and lakes in the Sioux Falls area to my week-long trip in the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota. There were as well a few other cruises that I took that were not described in a blog entry. So, this has been an active year on area waters.

Here on the northern plains, we have pretty harsh winters and then the continuing possibility of flooding throughout the rest of the year. Fortunately, there is a variety of kayaking opportunities: rivers and creeks to paddle with groups, lakes to paddle at virtually any other time. When going down moving water, I normally go with groups to take advantage of the arranged shuttles and the chance to laugh it up with others who share a passion for moving down the waterways. On lakes, I normally go alone so that I can take my time savoring the vistas, taking in the landscape, and watching for birds and other wildlife. Here in the Sioux Falls area, there are plenty of opportunities for both types of kayaking cruises.

(Big Sioux River in Sioux Falls - December 7, 2010)

Now though, the kayak is in the garage, the rack is off the car, the lifejackets and paddles are up in the attic, and the rivers and lakes have frozen over. The long winter is upon us. My kayak will probably be serving as the car bumper in our garage until late March.

The South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association will be presenting the annual winter conference toward the end of January at the Outdoor Campus here in Sioux Falls. By then, we will be only about 8 weeks away from first ventures on the water. For the past couple of years, there have also been safety exercises for “wet-exit” and “rolling” at the YWCA swimming pool organized by the SDCKA and offered two or three times during the deep winter. I’ll be reading Canoe/Kayaking and Sea Kayaking magazines more closely now as the weeks and months pass.

In the meantime, I may provide an occasional blog narrative, but it will be a little difficult to gather fresh material over the next three months. I’ll offer specifics on the up-coming SDCKA conference as they become available. I recommend also checking out the SDCKA blog from time to time to keep abreast of developments, and you can access that on the links to this blog.

Split Rock Creek: from McHardy Park to the Confluence with Beaver Creek

2010-11-14T14:54:00.000-08:00

It was 34 degrees under cloudy skies with a brisk wind this morning as five of us gathered at McHardy Park in Brandon for a late season cruise down Split Rock Creek. I received an invitation to join the group yesterday and accepted the opportunity in spite of the weather conditions. This cruise was organized, as so many over this summer, by David and Mary Finck and Larry Brtaaten, all directors of the South Dakota Canoe and Kayak Association (SDCKA).

We first shuttled cars down to the bridge over Split Rock Creek at the confluence with Beaver Creek, a river distance of about six miles.

All of us were dressed in layers with heavy jackets, appropriate shoes or boots, water resistant gloves, and winter hats. I had a change of clothing and towels in the hatch-covered compartments of my kayak, and I am sure that others did as well.

A few snowflakes were drifting in the air as we set off from McHardy Park, but that faded quickly. The water level was high, so we were fairly confident that we would make it down the creek without having to get out of the kayaks. The flow was fast as well, and we were able to make it down the six miles in an hour and a-half. There are a few minor rapids along the way, but all of us slipped through without incident. While there were a couple of times where kayaks ran aground on shelving bottom, those that got hung up were able to quickly back off or shift direction and return to the deepest channel. Overall, the creek flow was smooth, the channel was three or four feet deep in most places, and there were no obstacles to our passage.

This section of Split Rock Creek flows along high banks that roughly parallel Highway 11 that runs from Sioux Falls to Brandon. The banks are sometimes 30 or more feet high along one side and five or six feet on the other. So, the creek is quite sheltered from the wind along most of its course. Very soon after our “take-out,” Split Rock Creek enters into the Big Sioux River.

Soon after beginning our cruise, we came across the first of three deer sightings of the cruise. The deer were up on the bank in the trees, and my cold fingers would not work fast enough to get the camera out for a photograph.

We also came across a bald eagle sitting high in a tree over the creek. The eagle seemingly just sat on a branch and watched us approach.

As we passed, he took off and alighted in another tree, again on a branch over the creek, and waited until we reached his new perch. He did this three times, and we all felt a special moment in company with this eagle. Following an eagle down the river from tree to tree is an uncommon pleasure.

The five kayaks keep pretty close company down the creek. I think that we all recognized the risk of paddling in very cold water with an air temperature just above freezing, and we wanted to stick close in the event that a kayak should capsize. In these circumstances, it is best to have assistance available. After all, becoming immersed in such water with a few miles yet to travel could be uncomfortable or dangerous.

Throughout the trip today, the light conditions changed rapidly. Sometimes it was heavily overcast, and then the sun would peak out through the clouds, some blue would appear, and the visible specter of light would be markedly changed. The, the darkness would come again and shadows would disappear.

The “take-out” at the bridge was in an area of fast current and a steep sandy bank. We clamored out of our kayaks and dragged them up on the bank. From there, we had to make a path through dense brush to the road.

We loaded up the kayaks, bid a tentative farewell to the paddling season, and wished each other well until we gather again in late January at the Outdoor Campus in Sioux Falls for the winter canoe/kayak conference.

Split Rock Creek – Upstream from Garretson City Park

2010-11-08T14:19:00.000-08:00

This was another gorgeous day, and I am so glad that I have left the kayak on the car. I decided to visit Split Rock Creek, beginning at the Garretson City Park and continuing upstream through the palisades to the rapids. This is a cruise that I have taken many times, and it is also the cruise of choice when taking visitors in the area out for a kayak ride.

I rolled into Garretson about 10:30 a.m., and the temperature was 53 degrees under sunny skies with only a light breeze. As nearly always, I was alone in the park and alone on the water.

The palisades are always spectacular with cliffs of quartzite rising a hundred feet or more out of the creek bed. Quartzite is a hard stone that was used in the construction of many early public buildings in Sioux Falls. The Old Courthouse Museum is a prime example in Sioux Falls, and the city park building along Split Rock Creek is another – a building constructed in 1936, probably as a WPA project.

The waterway was very quiet this morning. I did not see even a bird as I made my way up the couple of miles to the set of rapids that makes further upstream paddling a little rough, especially at this time of the year.

Instead, I concentrated on the landscape, the coniferous trees along the cliffs, the browning growth along the shore, and debris left high up in the trees and along the rock faces from the extremely high water earlier in the season.

As always, the play of shadow upon the water and the rock face of the palisades from the morning sun was a pleasure to watch. Moving along the cliff wall, a kayak moves from bright light to deep shadow and back into the light.

There are some caves on the cliff walls that extend deep into the rock, sometimes 15 feet or so. At some points, there are crevices that wind up from the creek level to the top of a cliff wall. Trees and bushes grow out of cracks or on small ledges of the cliff – brave plants that survive in the most trying circumstances.

On the way back downstream, I skirted the left bank and ran into some large, barely submerged rocks. My kayak became unbalanced as I hung up momentarily on one large rock that was hiding just a few inches underwater.

As usual, I went through the arched bridge near the “put-in” and entered that secluded world of Devil’s Gulch. I really like the flat calm, the overhanging cliff faces, the railroad bridge overhead, and the short ride up to a set of rapids. I saw a turtle in this section of the cruise, probably the last turtle that I will see until the return of spring.

There were no waterfowl visible on the water today, nor really much in the way of bird life at all. On the cruise back downstream, a large owl flew across the creek ahead of my kayak.

Split Rock Creek, through this section from the dam at the Garretson City Park, is always a nice cruise. This is the section cruised by the large pontoon boat, Jessie James, that takes groups on a ride through the palisades. I have passed that pontoon boat filled with cruise customers several times, and the skipper never fails to holler out, “I say, have you any Grey Poupon!”

As I drove through Garretson on my way home at 12:30 p.m., the temperature had risen to 66 degrees.

Who is to say how long this wonderful weather will hold out. Most of us here on the northern plains have our snow blowers gassed up and shovels ready. Winter is overdue now, and each day like today is just a marvelous gift – a gift to remember over the coming months.

Big Sioux River: A late fall cruise through Sioux Falls

2010-11-06T16:35:00.000-07:00

In yet another cruise led by Dave and Mary Finck and Larry Braatan (all SDCKA Board Members), ten paddlers and their kayaks assembled at the launch area near 57th and Western Avenue to head down the Big Sioux River through Sioux Falls. A November cruise is a delight that we can’t count on here on the northern plains, especially on rivers other than the Missouri River.

I dithered with a decision on whether or not to join the cruise today; there were lots of other things on my “to do” list, and this was a trip that I had taken several times over the years. But, I suspected that I would regret letting this opportunity slip by. As it happens, this was a wonderful day with a temperature of about 60 degrees, sunny, and with a wind at our back much of the trip. It was a great day for a paddle, and a good day for fellowship on the river.

We gathered at the put-in and arranged a shuttle. Actually, most of us drove our cars to the “take-out” at Fawick Park and rode back in Dave’s van. By 1:50 p.m. we had all launched and were underway down the river. One of the cruise participants brought a big container of homemade chocolate chip cookies and offered them around to us: I took three and then had another one at the take-out!

As we moved down the river, the group kept together, although people tended to move along chatting with a person alongside. The trees have lost nearly all their leaves, and visibility through the vegetation along the banks was good. Surprisingly, we came across three groups of deer at various points along the cruise. The first one was a large buck with a full set of antlers. We were moving fast on the stream, and by the time I fumbled my camera out, he had slipped away. Still, we all got a good look at him. Then, we came across a group of three more deer, and I was able to capture them with my camera. There were a few ducks along the way, ducks that may not have gotten the memo about departure from these northern climes.

There are two sets of rapids along the seven-mile stretch from 57th Street to Fawick Park, and we slipped through each of them without incident. The first is under the bridge connecting the bike trail, just downstream from Cliff Avenue. There were plenty of bicyclists out on the trail today, and a few watched us pass through this first set of rapids. The second set is near 26th Street; that one is a little less of a challenge, and again we made it through without incident.

We passed under several bridges as we made our way downstream. There were no navigation hazards along the route, apart from the two sets of rapids.

Many people were out on the bike trail, walking, riding, laughing in the sunshine. Lots of geese are still hanging out in the area between the 18th Street bridge and Fawick Park. The geese, at any rate, can just slip over to Arrowhead Park as the ice develops on the Big Sioux River.

We ended our cruise at Fawick Park, in sight of the statue of David. We had left our cars parked on the street at the park, and it was only a short “carry” from the river to the street. Our trip was about seven miles and took us just under two hours.

This was a fine trip, a great cruise in the fading days of fall. We just have to take advantage of opportunities for trips like this, and I am so glad that I overcame my lethargy: I could not in good conscience spend the day reading or doing home chores when a cruise down the river was offered.

Lake Alvin: A Late Fall Cruise on Familiar Waters

2010-11-05T14:09:00.000-07:00

I have kept the kayak on top of the Honda Civic since my trip to Lake Lakota last week, just waiting for a nice day for perhaps a final cruise of the season. The past few days have been cold and very windy. This morning the dawn temperature was in the 20s, but the winds were light and this seemed the day I had been anticipating.

About 10:30 a.m., I set out for Lake Alvin. The temperature had climbed to about 34 degrees and the sun was bright as I arrived at the public access area on the southwest shore; the dock was still in, and the lake was deserted. The water temperature was 45 degrees, marking a steady decrease over the past couple of weeks.

I managed to get in the kayak with my shoes still on, and I was wearing a jacket under my life jacket. I also had on a winter hat and gloves. Even so, I was cold for the first hour of paddling, especially my face and hands.

As has come to be my normal path, I set out across the lake to the eastern shore and made my way south into Nine Mile Creek. The water in the creek was as clear as it ever gets in that waterway; I could clearly see bottom at four feet, and that made it relatively easy to follow the channel south. I passed debris caught in the trees along the shoreline from the floods of this sumer. It is amazing how the creek rose so high above the banks of this seemingly placid stream

The depth along the creek was sufficient to move up to the rapids located about 20 minutes upstream. Clods of earth along the route were encrusted with frost and seemed frozen to the touch.

There was little life seen along my route today. I came across a couple of muskrats, a very few duck-like birds, and very few perching birds. The brown landscape and the apparent absence of wildlife seem to highlight the advancing season. Winter is near, and the lake community is shutting down for a long sleep.

Coming back out of Nine Mile Creek, I continued north up the main body of the lake keeping close to the shoreline. There was an interesting play of colors on the water and about the land, and I enjoyed watching the changing face of the water: cats paws racing along and wind shifts on the surface as the lake flows along the old creek bed in a roughly “S” shape through the surrounding hills.

Overhead, I could see passenger jets streaking along in various directions, their contrails sweeping out behind them as they passed seven miles or so above me. I thought of the expression “fly-over states” as the jets moved generally east and west so far above. The passengers in those jets are in their own self-contained world, unconnected to the places they are passing far below.

I looked over the familiar shoreline, thinking that this might well be the last time I visit Lake Alvin for many long cold months. A guy was out fishing, and we had a brief chat. He told me that he was at work and couldn’t stand the thought of letting this day pass without taking advantage of the last days of lake access. So, he took off work and was casting his line and smiling in the sunshine. He had entered the lake from the Recreation Area along the northwestern shore.

I eased into the spillway channel to look over the landscape and came across another muskrat.

So, I spent a couple of hours on the lake and paddled the length: from the fishing pier at the north end to the end of Nine Mile Creek in the south. Last year I went out to Lake Alvin on December 1, but the dock was pulled and most of the lake was ice covered. Still I foolishly paddled around the edge of the ice for a hundred yards or so.

I am leaving the kayak on the car for another week or so in the event that I decide to go out again. Paddling cold waters alone is probably not the best idea though, so I may call it a season with the cruise today.

Lake Lakota: A Late Fall Cruise

2010-10-29T13:31:00.000-07:00

Fall is usually a short season here on the northern plains. We are only a weekend away from November, and the first snow fell here in the Sioux Falls area this week. The temperatures have fallen into the 20s the past couple of mornings, and the birdbaths in our yard have frozen solid. We had howling winds of up to 50 mph the past couple days, and our dog, Finnegan, has needed his coat to go walking. But, the forecast for today was for calm winds and a high into the 50s: a perfect day for a late fall cruise.

As I set out this morning from our eastside Sioux Falls home for Lake Lakota, the temperature was up to 39 degrees. As I headed south to Canton and on to Newton Hills, my Honda Civic hybrid with the kayak strapped on top began laboring into a south wind. The battery for the motor assist dropped down to a single bar, and the car could not go any faster than 50 mph. The wind seemed a bit stronger than predicted.

When I arrived at Lake Lakota about 10:30 a.m., the area was deserted, much as I expected. The wind was whipping down the lake out of the south, and the waves were rolling into the dock and beach.

I thought it prudent to avoid the rolling waves at the boat ramp and instead launched from the beach. Right away, I took on a wave into the cockpit of the kayak; this caused me to turn into the western arm of the lake where there was some shelter offered by the opposite bank and trees, bare of leaves as they were. There was an effect much like a curtain across the lake separating the calm western arm from the north/south orientation of the main body of water and the wind and waves rolling south.

Into this calmer portion of the lake, I cruised along the shoreline looking over the landscape. I came across a muskrat and a few duck-like birds. Overall, though, there was a quiet and settling aspect about the lake: winter is coming on, and the trees and bushes are settling in for a long sleep. No turtles were to be seen, and much of the waterfowl has now moved on. The thick aquatic grasses that clogged the waterway have nearly disappeared. The bottom was visible at 3 or 4 feet.

Coming back out of the western arm, I encountered heavy waves and a strong south wind. Padding required effort and I had some anxiety in the big waves. On a second attempt, I made the point and continued south into the main body of the lake, hugging the shoreline. Once heading south, it seemed dangerous to try turning around; I didn’t want to broach in the waves, especially alone on the chilled water.

There is a public access area on the west side of the main body of the lake, and I ducked into the short inlet provided for fishing. This sheltered area provided a chance to rest and assess the risk of heading further into the heavy waves on my way to the dam at the south end. While in the inlet, it seemed that the wind shifted west, and the passage south seemed less threatening. I continued up to the dam, passed over to the east side of the lake and made my way across the waves to the first inlet available, relatively near the launching area and dock.

The inlet offered calm water and a chance to look over the changing landscape, a last opportunity to see any wildlife. Sure enough, my passage stirred up a great blue heron that flew over and near my kayak.

After cruising down to the end of the inlet, I reentered the main body of the lake and made my way across the waves, past the dock, to the beach area.

I was out on the lake for about an hour and a-half, time to reflect upon the changing season, thinking about late March or early April when I again make the trip to Lake Lakota. Spring: already, I am anxious for it.

The weather forecast seems relatively good for the next few days, so I will leave the kayak on the car in hopes of going out to Lake Alvin again. The older I get, the more I dread the coming winter. But, as we all know, it is the experience of winter that makes spring on the northern plains so anticipated. By January, the time of the South Dakota/Kayak Annual Conference, we will all be thinking about the coming season – by then only eight or nine weeks away.

Beaver Lake, A Fall Cruise: October 2010

2010-10-11T19:44:00.000-07:00

I was traveling overseas during the last part of September and have not been out on the water for the past two and a-half weeks. We have a guest visiting here now from California, and today I took him kayaking on Beaver Lake (see past Beaver Lake narratives on the menu at the right side of the blog home page.).

We got a late start this morning and arrived at Beaver Lake about 10:30 or so. There were a few other people on the lake today, mostly retired type gents out fishing in boats or from the dock. There was very light wind when we started, and that wind just diminished as the morning wore on. The temperature was in the 70s and the sky was clear: a beautiful fall day in South Dakota.

My friend, Bill, used my 13-foot Dagger, and I took the Folbot. We set out from the ramp at the public access area and headed out toward the island. I had hoped to see a variety of waterfowl, as I normally do; today, though, there were no birds visible on the island. We cruised along the shoreline looking into the island through the trees and bushes. Fall is in full form by now, and lots of the trees and bushes are changing colors, some are already bare and getting ready for the long winter months. Today, though, was almost a step back into summer. The water got calmer and more reflective as the morning moved on.

Nearly always my next stop along the Beaver Lake cruise is around the island, along the shoreline to an entrance through the reeds to a wonderful wetlands made up of a channel leading into a large pool hidden away from the lakeshore. The landmark for this channel entrance is an old windmill just inshore but easily visible from the lake.

In this channel and in the pool are a number of large beaver lodges that seem to have been freshly rebuilt for the coming winter. The last time I came up this pathway, there were a couple dozen egrets nesting. Today, the egrets were not visible; perhaps they have left for a land with a gentler winter. Instead, we saw perhaps ten beaver lodges.

I find great tranquility moving slowly and silently through these waters looking at the wetlands community of cattails, lodges, and usually a large number of waterfowl.

We then moved to the northwest corner of the lake and into a wetlands area that I had not seen before. Maybe the high water level has created this new opportunity; today it was another entrance into a channel that runs west into the reeds for a few hundred yards.

This is the spot on the trip where we at last ran into substantial numbers of waterfowl and perching birds. I also saw a beaver swimming down the channel towards me, but I was unable to get my camera ready before he submerged. We continued until stopped by a barbed wire fence across the channel.

After spending an hour and a-half or so paddling, we headed back to the dock. It was a really fine day to spend in South Dakota. Some people consider Beaver Lake as one of the best paddling areas in the area. I also really like this waterway, but about half of my experiences on this lake have been in quite windy conditions. When the winds are calm, I love Beaver Lake, especially for the bird life along the island and into the wetlands. When there is a wind out of the west, though, this can be a difficult paddle through sometimes big waves, at least big waves from the perspective of a kayaker.

The Big Sioux River: Canton to Newton Hills

2010-09-19T18:35:00.001-07:00

Today, I joined with a fleet of eight kayaks paddling from Canton to Newton Hills, a distance of nine miles along a full, deep, and fast Big Sioux River.

This was a cruise that had been planned by David and Mary Finck and Larry Braaten, board members of the SDCKA, and had also been postponed a number of times due to high water.

The cruise today began just above the park in Canton in an industrial type parking lot with a ramp leading down to the river. A set of rapids, formed as the river flows through the debris of a low-head dam dismantled long ago, faced us within just 100 feet or so from the put-in. We all stood on the high bank looking out at the rapids considering the best approach. The ramp leading into the river at the park was closed due to earlier flooding and damage. The passage through seemed okay to all of us, and we moved through without incident.

We had gathered at the prearranged put-in by 1:00 p.m., and David Finck provided a shuttle for all of us. That, of course, is the advantage of going on a river cruise with others, especially a cruise that is planned by the SDCKA. By 1:50 p.m., we had all shoved off and were on our way down the river.

The current was swift today on the Big Sioux, the water was deep, and the river was wide. I tried to find bottom with my double-bladed paddle several times along our cruise, and I never touched it. The water was over six feet deep along nearly the entire width of the river.

The temperatures were in the high 50s for our afternoon cruise, and this follows a cold snap yesterday that had high temperatures in the 40s. The skies were cloudy during the entire afternoon. Winds were not a factor at all on the cruise.

With the eight kayaks moving along, there tended to be a couple of conversation groups, and then some of us moved along the edge or behind the pack to commune with nature in near solitude. These configurations of paddlers were fluid; at times I found myself bringing up the rear and cruising along the shore, and then at other times I found myself engaged in conversation. Generally, paddlers string out on these river cruises, sometimes for over a mile. A smaller group, as we had today, tends to be more bunched up as it moves downstream – at least everyone in sight.

The change in seasons is readily seen in the changing colors of the trees. The banks of the Big Sioux tend to be wooded, most often with large cottonwood trees. On this stretch, one can see the drying corn fields through the tree stands along the shore. The approach of fall was apparent as we moved along the river.

The river and the banks were deserted during our trip. I didn’t see another person or hear any machinery. There were only isolated buildings visible along this part of the river.

We did not see much wildlife; groups tend to cause most wildlife to lie low until the boats and talk pass. We did see a large group of geese at one point. Many migratory birds have already left for more attractive feeding areas south of here.

We stopped about halfway down our planned course at a gravel beach. Since we really had not worked terribly hard on the trip, we spent only about 10 minutes stretching. From there, it was another easy 45 minutes or so until we reached the take-out. Our trip concluded at a public access area just across the highway from the Newton Hills Trail Camp. We zipped down the nine miles in two hours today, including our brief rest stop.

This was another of those many segments along the Big Sioux that are pretty easy to paddle. I can’t remember being on this stretch of the river, although club cruises have given me the opportunity over the past couple of years to paddle nearly from Flandreau to Newton Hills. As I paddled along, I thought about Brian Gundvaldson and his trip through these waters just a couple weeks ago. Brian is the young guy who left Egan, SD, on September 3 heading for the Gulf of Mexico, a trip of 2,100 miles. As of yesterday, he had reached Kansas City and will be on his way to St. Louis next. Like many, I am following his trip on Facebook.

Changing of the Seasons: Lake Alvin, Sept. 2010

2010-09-17T15:20:00.000-07:00

The nighttime temperatures here on the northern plains have dropped into the 30s at various places and have been in the low 40s here in Sioux Falls. It is apparent that the end of summer is upon us and that the fall is at hand. The trees and bushes seem to have lost their luster, some leaves are falling, and a frost could happen at any time. Also, the hunting season is rapidly approaching and with that greater care in kayaking on isolated waterways is warranted. When hunters are toting shotguns, I tend to limit my kayaking to waters bordering state parks and protected areas.

Sometimes I feel that I have to constantly paddle a variety of waterways in order to present a range of locations on this blog. That feeling sometimes inhibits my spontaneous paddling opportunities on familiar and often described waters. Going to familiar and local waterways seems “lame,” and I feel sort of a sense of duty to move out on the edges of my paddling circle so that the narratives seem fresh. But, today I beat that feeling down and returned to Lake Alvin, only 15 minutes from our eastside Sioux Falls home.

I got a late start today because of lingering too long with my coffee and novel at Bagel Boy on East 10th Street and arrived at the public access area on the southwestern end of the lake just before 11:00 a.m. The lake was crowded today with perhaps three fishing boats out and a few guys fishing from the shore near the state park and at the public access area. I felt the press of this teeming mass of people and headed in solitude up into Nine Mile Creek. There was plenty of depth to the water, and I was able to continue upstream to the usual point where navigation is halted because of a set of low rocky rapids. This trip is perhaps a mile upstream and is my favorite part of the lake. Motorboats cannot make it up Nine Mile Creek. This is also the part of Lake Alvin where wildlife might most easily be observed.

Today was largely overcast with moderate wind out of the north and temperatures in the low 50s. Going up Nine Mile Creek, the wind was not noticeable. On the way back up the main body of the lake, there was a fairly stiff headwind and choppy conditions. I moved up the lake and greeted a couple of fishing parties. Along the way, I picked up my self-imposed quota of floating trash – mostly bottles and cans. I carry a plastic bag in the kayak and expect to pick up from 5-10 items on each cruise. This isn’t much, but it is a minor contribution to a cleaner environment and provides me an opportunity to practice maneuvering my kayak in along the shore and into foliage as I grasp the offending pieces of trash.

On the way back down the lake to the public access area, I set the umbrella and sailed the complete distance, perhaps a mile or so. I am able to take photos while sailing when the wind is not too strong. When it gusts, however, I need both hands on the umbrella as I steer with my feet on the rudder pedals. So, taking photos while sailing is a bit tricky; using an umbrella sail adds some additional risk to kayaking

Today was a day for exercise and contemplation. Traveling with a group, as on river cruises, is really an enjoyable experience. I also like to move along through the lake by myself, observing the grasses, the bird life, the wind across the water, while searching for wildlife.

Today, all I saw was a single great blue heron, some jumping fish, a few turtles, and very few perching birds. I guess that much of the bird life knows when it is time to go, time to move away to sunnier and warmer climes for the winter. They want to get out before the freeze. The older I grow, the more I share that sentiment.

The Rock River near Rock Rapids, Iowa

2010-09-05T19:13:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I was pleased to learn that David and Mary Finck, along with Larry Braaten, were planning to lead a cruise along the Rock River, in Iowa, today. All three of these paddlers are officers in the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association (SDCKA), and they frequently announce and lead cruises within the area.

At 1:00 p.m. today, Sunday, thirteen paddlers with their kayaks gathered at Island Park in Rock Rapids, Iowa. Rock Rapids is about 30 miles east of my Sioux Falls home, east on Highway 9. After arranging a shuttle and leaving most cars just south of the bridge along Highway 75, about 7 miles south of Rock Rapids, the thirteen kayaks left a launching point within the park and headed south along the river.

The Rock River is a tributary of the Big Sioux River and wanders for about 100 miles from near Pipestone, Minnesota, to near Hawarden, Iowa, where it flows into the Big Sioux. Many years ago I paddled a stretch of the river from near Steen, Minnesota, to Rock Rapids. The river is aptly named; there are plenty of rocks scattered along the bed of the river, and there are also three or four sets of rapids south of Rock Rapids. None of the kayaks tipped in the rapids; still, they were enough to give a person pause, especially if cameras were not protected – as none of ours were. I shipped water over the bow and up along the cockpit of my kayak. I think that all of us got a little wet in the rapids.

Heading south out of Rock Rapids, there are some very nice homes built up on the high banks. After leaving the city, the river was generally deep enough to avoid any difficulties, especially in the northern half of our trip. Perversely, the river tended to have more shallow gravel bars along the southern half of our trip. Generally, the depth seemed to be about three to four feet. Like most waterways, though, there were deep channels and shallow shelving at times. As we moved closer to the Highway 75 bridge over the river, most of us had to get out of the kayaks at some point to drag them over gravel bars or shallow spots. That was not, however, much of a problem; mostly it involved just moving the boat a few feet into the deeper current.

The river flows through farm country, and the banks are not heavily wooded. We occasionally ran into people, friendly people who would wave and shout out a greeting. People stopped along the way to watch the flotilla pass.

We came across several electric fences across the river. Fortunately, these wires were noticed early and they were high enough to permit passage close along the bank. None of us received a shock from the fences.

About half way through the 3.5 hour trip, Dave called a halt along a beach so that we could stretch, take off the life jackets, and have a sip of water.

With such a group of kayaks, there was little chance to see any wildlife; even birds seemed scarce to me. People chatter as they paddle, and the group stretched out for a few hundred yards – plenty of time and warning for any wildlife to sit tight and wait for the fleet to pass. This sort of trip is social in nature, and on this cruise people helped each other and kept the conversation going.

The hazards encountered today included the several sets of rapids, a tree that had fallen across nearly the entire river,a few electric fences, and shallow gravel bars that left boats stranded in fast running current and insufficient depth.

Although we did not have a gps among us, we probably traveled about 12 miles on the river. The road distance from the put-in to the bridge over Highway 75 was about 7.5 miles. The take-out under the bridge requires a long carry, although it did not measure up to the portages I experienced in the Boundary Waters last month. People helped each other carry their boats up to the highway, and then the trip was over. We all got into our vehicles and headed home for our separate Labor Day festivities.

The Rock River seemed to be about 75-80 feet wide along most of our trip today, and the depth was nearly always four feet or less. Veterans of this river cruise said that we would not have been able to make it this late in the season expect for the unusual rains that we have had over the summer. This is another paddling option that the paddlers around Sioux Falls might keep in mind. While it is not as easily kayaked as the Big Sioux River, it is a very pleasant cruise through farm country and an easy opportunity to expand kayaking into western Iowa. I’m very glad that David, Mary, and Larry organized and led the cruise today.

Beaver Lake - September 2010

2010-09-03T11:49:00.001-07:00

About twice a year I head west out of Sioux Falls on Interstate 90 to visit Beaver Lake, located just on the edge of Humboldt, SD. My last visit there was in April, and the landscape was just “greening up” after a long winter. This morning I made my “bookend” visit to the lake – spring to see the arrival of the season and fall to see summer disappearing. After my customary morning stop at the local bagel spot for coffee, a bagel, and an hour with my novel, I departed Sioux Falls as the sun was coming up on a brisk 50-degree day. By 7:45 a.m., I was at the “put-in.” This was the first day since April that I wondered whether a jacket would be needed.

The forecast for the day spoke of “breezy” conditions, and that seemed okay; after all, a calm day in South Dakota is rare. As I drove west with my kayak atop the car, however, I saw the battery level for my hybrid Honda Civic dropping down to a single bar; without “electric assist,” the maximum speed for the car dropped to about 55 mph. Headwinds out of the west caused a depletion of battery power, and that was my first tip-off to probable wind conditions on Beaver Lake.

When I arrived at the lake, I saw that the wind was whipping down the length of the lake from west to east. Beaver Lake is 300 acres in surface area (more than three times the size of Lake Alvin) with large open space along the west to east axis. There is little cover on the western shore to break the wind, so it tends to generate significant wave action, especially on that west to east axis. The waves in the open part of the lake today were one to two feet from trough to breaking tops with whitecaps.

As usual, though, there was enough variance in the shoreline to provide areas of sheltered water, some areas of light wave action, and also areas of heavy waves that can create apprehension for the solo paddler.

I seem drawn to the large wooded island located about 300 yards out from the public access point on the southern shore. That channel between the mainland and the island is the first area of concern for a paddler on a windy day: the wind seems always to come out of the west on my visits to the island. The eastern and northern shores of the island are home to a variety of bird life and are also generally sheltered from prevailing winds. The island, therefore, is irresistible to most paddlers.

As I approached the island, bobbing about in the waves, I saw four egrets slipping away from me. They flew off to the north, but I knew that I would encounter them again.

Moving away from the lee of the island, I was once more into heavy wave action, and I struggled across the wind to the northern shore and then turned west into the wind as I headed to the northern bay and the entrance into a wetlands area.

This wetlands area is my favorite part of the lake. My landmark, as usual, was an old windmill along the eastern side of this northern bay of the lake. I slipped through the channel and moved east down a waterway through the aquatic growth and beaver lodges.

The elusive egrets from the island had joined a large flock of egrets within the wetlands; there were more than a dozen of them along the shoreline or perched in trees. Slowly, I approached the flock with my camera ready and managed to capture several photos before they all departed.

As I left the wetlands and headed back into the main body of the lake, the heavy wave action began again. Water was breaking over the bow of my kayak, and I had to concentrate upon my steering and paddling until I reached the eastern shore. From there, the waves seemed to decrease, probably because of the lee created by the island, and I cruised along the eastern and southern shore of the lake in much smoother water.

As I was finishing my cruise, a Cadillac SUV pulling a nice boat entered the access area, and two older gents got ready to go fishing. I had to wait for them to finish at the dock, so I continued west around the southern end of the lake. Ready to harness the wind, I took out my big golf umbrella and sailed back down the lake along the southern shore. There was a great tail wind, so I just hung onto the umbrella and went “flying” back, creating a nice wake while steering with my foot-operated rudder. There was an element of “showing off” to the fishermen as I raced past them.

So, this was a good cruise. I really prefer calmer waters so that I can concentrate upon the landscape and search for wildlife, but there is also exhilaration in moving through the waves and wind.

My hands were actually cold today, even with the muscle movement involved in paddling. The signs of a change in seasons are apparent. Fall is approaching, and fall in South Dakota is really the beginning of winter.

As always, if you are interested in earlier narratives of visits to Beaver Lake, please check the index on the right side of the page under the name of the lake.

A Return to Familiar Waters: Lake Alvin – Late August 2010

2010-08-24T16:56:00.000-07:00

My son, Derek, called last night and asked if I was available to go out kayaking this morning with him. After kicking back for a week after my days in the Boundary Waters, I was happy to take him up on the notion. We tossed the Folbot into the back seat of my Honda Civic, loaded up the Dagger on the roof-rack, and headed out to Lake Alvin about 9:30 a.m.

It has been very hot and humid in Sioux Falls over the past few days, and today was a gift: light winds, sunny skies, and a temperature in the 70s. It was a wonderful day, especially on a weekday during “working hours.” The lake was nearly deserted, as is usually the case on weekdays after school has begun.

We arrived at the public access area of the lake and headed south into Nine-Mile Creek. The water level is high, and there was no trouble making it around the southeastern point leading into the mouth of the creek. It was pleasant moving up this increasingly narrow waterway towards the set of rapids that ends further navigation.

After reaching the rapids, we then turned around and cruised easily back down the creek to the main body of the lake. From there, we paddled to the northern shore of the lake and turned into the channel leading to the spillway.

Going back down the lake to the access point, there was a head wind, not enough to cause any strain but just enough to be refreshing after so many hot sticky days here in SD.

We spent a couple of hours paddling the length of Nine-Mile Creek and the main body of Lake Alvin. This was a great time to chat, observe the shore conditions, and experience the sensation of moving across the water.

Derek again reminded me of how accessible Lake Alvin is to our home and of how easy it is to take a nice kayak cruise without spending much time on the road. From driveway to the put-in is less than 15 minutes!

Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW) Trip - Part 3

2010-08-17T10:11:00.000-07:00

During our week in the BWCAW we sometimes moved about on day trips as a group, and several times I just headed out on my own to explore the lake and portages of Ensign Lake. I tried once to ride in the middle seat of a canoe with the group, but the experience left me considering the services of a chiropractor. After that short effort, I decided to just go out on my own cruises, much as I do here in home waters.

Ensign Lake is a rather large body of water, and I enjoyed paddling the shoreline, landing on islands, and hiking the portage trails.

There are several islands in Ensign, and these tend to be heavily forested and elevated. On one of the islands, the shoreline was exposed enough to allow me to hike around to check out the geology and flora.

Hiking the portage trails was a lot more manageable than trying to haul my kayak. Since I was wearing my aqua socks on the hikes, navigating the rocky pathway up and down hills required caution. The portage trails I took led from Ensign Lake to Trident Lake (100 rods) and then another trail to Ashigan Lake (55 rods).

The lakes that I visited all seemed pretty much the same, varying mostly in the nature of the shoreline. It seemed to me that one could get the flavor of the BWCAW in a short cruise that led through two or three lakes and a couple of portages. A longer cruise seems to me more of the same.

There is an aspect of journey, however, in doing an expedition type of cruise, a circular trip that provides for paddling and portaging most of each day with a different campsite each night. For groups and hardy individuals or teams, I suspect that there is great satisfaction in accomplishing the journey. If I were in my 20s or 30s, the journey would appeal to me. Perhaps with the right equipment, time, and expectation, I might enjoy such a journey even now at my advancing age (68).

I got the impression that there are generally two types of experiences in the BWCAW: the tripping sort of adventure that is measured in miles traveled and portages negotiated, as in “we did 70 miles and 10 portages on our week-long trip.” Then, there is the camping and day-touring type trip that provides for a week out in the wilderness with forays out each day but a return to the base camp for the night.

On a trip to the BWCAW, it seems that one must be prepared to adjust plans based upon daily conditions or events. The weather changes quickly: a morning calm under clear skies can change to heavy cloud cover, rain, and wind within hours. Then, there is always the possibility of losing gear to a bear or perhaps through capsizing a boat. Twisting an ankle on a portage or wrenching a muscle is certainly possible, especially for older more brittle paddlers. So, a journey on the lakes requires a tolerance for dealing with adjustments to the route plan and a willingness to be flexible in accommodating to circumstances.

In the final analysis, however, spending a week in the Boundary Waters is a wonderful addition to the life experiences of people who either enjoy camping in a beautiful natural setting or who enjoy a self-contained and self-propelled journey through the wilderness. It becomes an unforgettable element in a person’s life story.

Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW) Trip - Part 2

2010-08-16T08:32:00.000-07:00

Losing a portion of our food to the bear could have caused complications for our planned six days in the BWCA. After all, it would have taken a full and demanding day to replenish our food stocks: an eight hour round-trip paddle, an hour drive round-trip into Ely, and then shopping for food items. It would have been an exhausting trip for the pair of paddlers who took on that task. But, luckily, there was enough food left to see us through without much of a problem.

The best advice from the Forest Service when confronted with bear problems is to shift camps, and so we moved across Ensign Lake to another setting – actually, the preferred setting by the veteran members of our party.

Travel through the BWCAW is accomplished through multiple lakes connected by portage trails. These portages range from a “pull-over” offering relatively easy passage to long primitive rocky trails that wind up and down through heavily wooded hills.

There are no reference marks in the area we traveled; paddlers use detailed maps carried in waterproof folios. The terrain looks pretty much the same throughout the lakes we traveled: a wall of green made up of coniferous trees mingled with birch trees, generally high banks, rocky shores and cliffs, and scattered islands. It looked to me as though it would be easy to become disoriented or even lost within this wilderness area. When paddling alone, I tried to remain my “situational awareness” so that I would not experience the anxiety of trying to find my way back when everything looked the same.

Most of the watercraft on the lakes were kevlar canoes that could be carried on the shoulders of a single person. The canoes within a party approach a portage, unload, and the paddlers carry their load across to the next put-in. A straight-line portage is not complicated nor particularly difficult; it just takes time to unload, carry across, and then repack the canoes. For portages that move up over steep rocky paths, however, it seems like an activity recommended by an orthopedic surgeon drumming up business.

I saw only a few kayaks during this trip, and those only in areas with an easy portage path. My kayak weighs nearly twice that of a kevlar canoe, and it was a strain to portage even with two people. I think that only a body builder could muscle a kayak alone across even the relatively short portages.

Portages in the BWCAW are measured in rods, an archaic linear unit that harkens back to 19th and early 20th century farming. A rod is equal to 16.5 feet, but I doubt that many people know that. To me, it seems like continued use of this unit of measurement is jargon that separates the old-timers from the novices. The use of meters, yards, or feet would provide greater comprehension for visitors. Who among us, I wonder, can visualize a passage of “180 rods.”

I saw several bald eagles on this trip, and some of them flew relatively low over the water just offshore from our camping site or near the canoes. In the closest encounters, I could clearly see their features.

Luckily, I came across a group of four otters close inshore while out alone in my kayak. I was able to sit there quietly and watch them together for a few minutes.

Loons were omnipresent, and I enjoyed moving close to them in my kayak to watch them diving and surfacing. The call of the loon was frequently heard during both the day and in the evening hours. I have heard so much about loons over the years, especially on Prairie Home Companion with Garrison Keillor, that I was really thrilled to actually watch them and listen to that distinct call. Loons seem to be an iconic aspect of life in Minnesota, and I feel enriched to have been able to see them in the BWCAW setting.

One evening we all watched a wolf move down the shoreline on Ensign Lake across from our base camp. Ensign has an exposed shoreline of about 2-4 feet, and the wolf was moving down that shoreline. We watched him for about 10 minutes through my binoculars. The distance was too great for me to capture a photograph with my limited camera; it just doesn’t have the telephoto quality needed for a recognizable image at that range. Our second campsite had a family of chipmunks that seemed fearless as they scavenged for any tidbit dropped or offered to them. In the campsite, I saw one dark brown rabbit. We came across a few garter snakes on portage trails or in the woods around the camp. Fortunately, we did not see the bear that visited our camp on that first night. I ran into someone who said that he saw a moose along the shore.

To be continued..........

Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW) Trip - Part 1

2010-08-15T11:32:00.000-07:00

Several months ago, I was invited by David Finck, one of the officers in the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association, to join his late summer group trip to the BWCAW this year. The notion of going to the Boundary Waters has appealed to me for many years, but I never actively pursued it. As the years passed, so did the likelihood of ever making the trip. So, when this invitation was offered at the SDCKA Annual Conference last January, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity. David offered me space in a canoe, the loan of whatever gear I needed, and the encouragement to be part of the group this year. The cost of going on an eight-day trip was also very modest. I realized that, for the sake of my self-image, I just could not let the opportunity pass. It was also another experience that I wanted to add to my collection; a chance to see this wilderness area that I had heard so much about.

The group this year included seven people, one person had withdrawn and that left an odd number for crewing the canoes. Dave asked if I could bring along my kayak, so the fleet consisted of three canoes with two people each and nearly all the gear, and then I had my kayak as well. There were two husband/wife pairs, a father/son, and then me.

We traveled northeast about 450 miles to Ely, Minnesota, one of the key “jumping off” points into the BWCAW. Dave had a van and pulled a trailer with the four boats, and five of us rode with him. One of Dave’s old pals, Ken, drove with his son in convoy behind us during the round trip.

Ely is really an outdoors oriented community, and many vehicles passed up and down the main streets and were parked alongside motels, stores, and outfitters with canoes lashed down on roof tops or in trailers. By far, the most common canoes were the 17-foot Kevlar We-no-nah boats. After beginning the trek across lakes loaded to the gunnels with gear and negotiating the portages, I could see the attraction of such light, although expensive, canoes.

We spent the first night in Ely at a Motel, and then in the morning, after a hardy breakfast at a well-known local spot, we set off on a planned course through Moose Lake, Newfound Lake, Splash Lake, and into Ensign Lake. This routing included two portages, one of 35 rods and the other of 5 rods.

There was a steady stream of canoes heading both ways along the highway of Moose Lake. We entered the BWCAW at Entry Point 25, adjacent to the Boy Scout Somers Canoe Base, about 20 miles northeast of Ely. Outfitters have a motorboat service using big Jon boats with a rack on top that will accommodate two canoes. Lots of people use this service to speed their travel deeper into the BWCAW; motors of up to 25 hp are allowed in some portions of Moose and Newfound Lakes, after that no motors are allowed on the waterways. But then, lots of people just paddle down Moose and Newfound Lakes and continue on into the wilderness, and we were among the paddlers.

Dave and his wife, Mary, and their pal, Ken, and his son, John, had traveled into the BWCAW many times over the years and had a clear intention of where to establish a base camp for our week. Their practice over the years has been to find an attractive campsite and stay in that location during the week and then make day trips to various interesting places, all within a few hours travel time of the base camp. The plan this year was to establish a base camp toward the eastern end of Ensign Lake, a four-hour paddle from the “put-in” on Moose Lake.

The campsites are well spaced in isolated spots, up on a high bank with generally easy access by canoe and ample room for the maximum capacity of nine people. A fire pit with grate and an open toilet with a “throne” are provided. There is adequate space for pitching the tents and plenty of shade. Forest Service restrictions are placed upon the type of containers used for food, there is only lake water available; once in the BWCAW, communication is very limited: no cell phone coverage, no roads, and no motorboats. It is certainly a place to escape or avoid continual 24/7 news, cell phone messages, and being constantly in touch with the office, family, or friends.

The seven of us set up camp upon arrival at the site on Ensign Lake. We settled in during the late afternoon and then enjoyed a delicious pork chop dinner prepared by Dave. Being the only “singleton” of the group, I had a small tent by myself. The mosquitoes tended to become pretty bothersome at dusk, so we tended to tuck in around 9:00 p.m.

On that first night, we hoisted the food backs up on a line from a tall tree in hopes of thwarting interest by bears. One food container, however, was not hoisted that night, the container with all the meats prepared for the week. Late in the night, a heavy thunderstorm rolled over the area with spectacular lightening, cracking thunder, and a downpour of rain.

With the storm, I didn’t focus upon other sounds, the sounds of a bear roaming through the camp and the theft of the container with all the meat products. In the morning, we located the food container that had been taken by a bear and chewed open. The menu for the week was about to change markedly. Among some of the party, the anxiety level was about to rise as well.

To be continued..........

Split Rock Creek – Molly’s First Cruise

2010-07-25T16:52:00.001-07:00

Molly, the girlfriend of our son Derek, expressed an interest in kayaking, and this morning (Sunday) she joined my wife, Finnegan the family dog, and me for an introductory cruise on Split Rock Creek from the Garretson city park upstream to the set of rapids that defines the normal end of upstream navigation. While Finnegan and my wife, Marsha, took a stroll around the park, Molly and I set out on the cruise.

It was a glorious day with little wind, sunny skies, and a temperature in the low 80s. Since this was a weekend, there were a number of people in the park: campers, a couple of people out in a rubber raft, and people passing, including some on motorcycles. After meeting the rubber raft, though, we did not come across anyone else on the water until our return. Just as we were getting off the water, a couple with their kayaks and a swimming dog appeared.

The water is high on Split Rock Creek, but that only means satisfactory depth on the cruise upstream with little danger of running aground. I had not been on this stream since spring, a time when only the evergreen trees offered any hint of color. Now, the banks and cliffs are covered in green; the landscape is now in the full glory of summer in South Dakota.

Molly was tentative in her early minutes, paddling in my Dagger 13 foot kayak. I coached her from my Folbot, and we slowly cruised upstream. She quickly got the “knack” of paddling, keeping a straight course, and negotiating turns. On the ride back downstream, I showed her how to engage the rudder, and that provided another experience. She said, however, that she liked padding without the rudder: she liked the sensation of using a set of different paddle strokes to keep moving in the desired direction. With the rudder, she said that she felt that she was “cheating.” I, on the other hand, nearly always use the rudder and enjoy the ability to easily move along a desired course, especially to sneak up on “critters” or to watch the changing landscape without concern about “corrective strokes.”

We continued upstream for about 30 minutes to the rapids at the end of this section of the waterway, a spot where a couple of homes built along the creek are visible. We turned back at that point and returned to the arched bridge located adjacent to the launching point, the “put-in.”

As we went through the arched bridge and under the railroad bridge, we encountered nearly continuous algae cover on the water. Still, Devil’s Gulch, is one of my favorite spots along this waterway. It is a secret and secluded area with great rock formations and vegetation that I find fascinating.

Molly liked her initial cruise in a kayak, and I think that Split Rock Creek from the Garretson City Park upstream through the palisades is a wonderful first trip. We spent about an hour and 45 minutes on the cruise and have already made arrangements to go again tomorrow to Lake Vermillion.

As we departed the park, the pontoon boat “Jesse James” was just leaving on its daily tourist cruise along the same route we took. My wife is eager to go for this narrated cruise on the pontoon boat, and I'm sure that we do so later this summer.

For those interested in past narratives and photos of this waterway, check out "Split Rock Creek" from the menu along the right side of the blog.

The Big Sioux - Sioux Falls, 57th and Western to Cliff and 14th St.

2010-07-18T16:23:00.000-07:00

David and Mary Finck, along with Larry Braaten, alerted SDCKA members that they would be cruising on the Big Sioux River through Sioux Falls this Sunday afternoon, and joining them seemed to me like a good thing to do on a Sunday afternoon. About 1:00 p.m., a group of 18 paddlers assembled with their kayaks at Yankton Trails Park, downstream of the old bridge and just upstream of Western and 57th Street.

A shuttle was arranged to transport cars to the “take-out” at a park along the Sioux River at the intersection of Cliff Avenue and 14th Street. By 1:45 p.m., all the paddlers were in place and ready to shove off into the river. The flotilla of kayaks set out and pretty much stayed together for the two hour cruise.

I found myself paddling along at the tail end of the group and engaged in a number of conversations. This sort of cruise does not lend itself to contemplation and a search for wildlife. Instead, it tends to be more a social event on the water – a shared cruise down the river.

There were people along the bank at various spots, people who stood there while the fleet passed in review.

The river was high and fast, but it had dropped some in depth and the current was not racing as it had been in recent weeks. Conditions could really not have been better for a cruise. The paddlers ranged in experience and skill from grizzled veterans to relative novices. No one had any trouble either keeping up or negotiating the two sets of rapids between the put-in and the take-out: rapids under the bicycle trail bridge and then another set about a mile downstream at 26th Street. We all just shot through these rapids with no difficulty – paddles raised in triumph.

The skies were sunny, the temperature in the 80s, there was no noticeable wind, and the water was high enough to ensure passage without going aground. The water was four or five feet deep in most of the channel, at least where I checked the depth with my paddle. The “sweepers,” or downed trees extending out from the bank were easily avoidable today. This trip took us about two hours of very easy cruising.

A new “take-out” has been developed just off a parking lot on the south side of the river before the bridge at the intersection of Cliff Avenue and 14th Street. I understand that the Sierra Club had some influence in establishing this take-out. It is really a fine addition to the kayak/canoe trail through the city. A two-hour cruise is just right for most of casual paddlers, and I had a great time today.

I was reminded again about what a treasure the city has in the Sioux River Greenway. As we know from recent news accounts, there is some risk associated with travel on the river. With care, however, and when the conditions are good, this is a wonderful cruise through the Greenway of Sioux Falls.

Water Sampling at Grass Lake 2010

2010-07-17T14:41:00.000-07:00

Each year the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association performs a number of public service activities. For the last three years, taking water samples from area waterways has been one of those activities. Dakota Water Watch is the agency coordinating the water sampling for our area, and this morning representatives of that organization provided refresher training for SDCKA members as they set out to collect samples at Grass Lake, about 20 miles west of Sioux Falls.

The volunteers worked in pairs, two teams in kayaks and one in a canoe. Each team was given an overview of their assignment and provided the paperwork and equipment needed to sample conditions at three specific locations on the lake.

The teams were asked to assess the environmental conditions of the lake, the shore and the sky. Their assignments included temperature of the lake, depth and clarity of the water, and taking a water sample for later analysis.

We all proceeded to accomplish our assigned responsibility and then lingered a bit on our way back to the staging area. From departure until returning with the data and samples, we were out for perhaps an hour and a half.

It was a beautiful day on Grass Lake. We gathered at 9:00 a.m., and the temperature was about 85 degrees with moderate wind and sunny skies. The lake was perhaps two feet higher than normal at this time of year.

I did not see any waterfowl or other “critters” on this cruise, although our trip was more purposeful than my typical cruise on Grass Lake. I did come across a school of little black fish that reminded me of Black Mollies that I have had in my home aquarium at times.

A cruise of this sort offers an opportunity to be involved in a scientific investigation of sorts. We were working with specific protocols and gathering data to determine the condition of area lakes. This was the second sampling operation for the SDCKA on Grass Lake. The first one provided a baseline for evaluating changes over time, and this operation today provided interval data to compare conditions.

As we finished our assignments, we cruised back to the “put-in” and had a few laughs along the way. Readers interested in the water sampling activity can review earlier narratives posted under Grass Lake and Diamond Lake

Lake Vermillion - Early Summer 2010

2010-06-29T14:57:00.001-07:00

I last visited Lake Vermillion in early April, nearly three months ago. At that time the landscape was still cast in the brown shades of early spring and there was a bit of snow still on the north-facing banks. My cruise then was up into the western arm of the lake and into the feeder creeks draining the watershed of the area.

Today, I decided to check out the changes that have taken place over the past three months along the same route I traveled then. The Lake Vermillion Recreation Area is located west of Sioux Falls. One route there is to go west on Highway 42 out of Sioux Falls, a few miles past Highway 19 and then north. The direction is indicated by a sign along Highway 42, and the LVRA is five miles north. Another route is along Interstate 90, west out of Sioux Falls to the turn-off south about six miles west of Highway 19 and then south about five miles. Today, I traveled along the Interstate going out to LVRA and then came back on Highway 42.

There were a few trailers for fishing boats out on the lake, but since I was going along the western arm, I did not see anyone else. The western arm is the more peaceful route for a kayak because it is largely unused. I have never seen another boat on that section of the lake, and today was no exception.

I suppose that motorboats are reluctant to use the western arm because of the grasses in the lake that may become caught up in the propeller. The water is deep in the main channel of this western arm, but there is also a good deal of aquatic grasses growing throughout, particularly along the shores and in the inlets flowing from the watershed. That might suggest difficulty for fishermen using outboard motors.

The main body of the lake is just a large body of water oriented north and south and does not offer much in the way of bays for exploration. The most interesting aspect of the main body of the lake is the Vermillion River at the northern end that feeds into the lake. The trouble, however, is that it takes about an hour to kayak up to that end. If the wind is in a contrary direction, it can be a long slog up or down the lake. Sticking to the western arm eliminates the long paddle north to the river and still offers the opportunity to poke around in the weeds.

There are a couple of inlets to this western arm, and I really like to go up these waterways until it becomes impossible to proceed further. The inlets are my favorite aspect of cruising on Lake Vermillion. The western arm extends from the LVRA docking area up into the mouths of a couple of creeks entering the main body of the lake. The mouth of these creeks lead into gradually narrowing waterways that extend nearly a mile into the watershed.

I like to enter these areas because they seem like seldom visited places – secret waterways within a unique ecological setting. There are two waterways that extend deep into the landscape, and they are both at the western end of the arm. The northwestern entry begins almost as a river and gradually narrows deep into the watershed to a width of about two feet. I like to go as far as possible in my kayak, right up to whatever blocks further passage. The water in these inlets, even in the narrowest portion, was no less than three feet, and often four or five feet deep.

A problem in going so far into the inlet is the difficulty of turning around. Today, as well as on my last trip to LVRA, I got deep into the weeds and could not turn the kayak around. An exit required a few hundred yards of moving backward down the channel.

I saw some ducks today, a couple of beaver, a deer, and lots of jumping carp. The carp were very large, and they made quite an impact as they jumped up out of the water. I could see them resting or moving slowly just below the surface, sometimes alongside the kayak. Their jumping can be startling if unexpected. I was not bothered by bugs on this cruise: no mosquitoes, no gnats, no flies. My wife remarks about how unaffected I seem to be by mosquitoes, but I didn't even see any on the cruise today - even though I was deep in the marsh of the western arm.

Today, the landscape was green, in contrast to the drab brown of my last trip. I had enough time to enjoy the setting and felt privileged to be a guest in this secret area, this special part of the lake environment that is seldom seen by people. My cruise lasted about 90 minutes today.

Interested readers can check out other narratives and photos of the LVRA in earlier posts found in the menu along the right side of the blog.

Folbot on Lake Lakota - June 2010

2010-06-24T13:08:00.000-07:00

Shaking Out the Folbot

After sitting in the backyard storage shed for the past two years, I decided to load up my Aleut Folbot and see if it still floated; I wondered if perhaps the mice had gotten to it over the past two winters. Lake Lakota, in Newton Hills State Park, seemed like a good spot to assemble the boat and take a morning cruise, so I headed there about 9:00 a.m. today, a sunny day with no hint of rain. We have had day after day here in the Sioux Falls area of rain over the past couple of weeks, so I felt a pressing need to take advantage of a clear, sunny day with only a mild wind. Currently, the rivers and creeks are swollen with rain and running deep and fast in this area, and there are cautions issued by safety authorities about canoeing/kayaking on the Big Sioux River and Skunk Creek. Lakes are a better bet in these conditions.

The Folbot is stored in two bags, one for the framework and the other for the hull. I put one of the bags into the trunk and the other in the back seat. The trunk of my Honda Civic hybrid is smaller than most cars due to the placement of the large battery used for the engine assist function. Because of the two-year gap in my use of the craft, assembling it took a little longer – maybe 20 minutes. The parts seemed to fit together okay, and soon I was ready to head out into the lake.

I have a rudder for the Aleut, but attaching it seems to take as much time as assembling the boat, so I have stopped using it. Whenever using a kayak without a rudder, I am reminded of the extra control and ease of directional paddling offered by a rudder-controlled boat.

Lake Lakota has undergone quite a change since I last visited in March. The area is covered in green vegetation, but then so is much of the surface area of the lake. The lake is in two parts, much like the letter “L.” The major section is oriented north and south, and an arm extends off to the west. Water in the center portion of the lake is generally clear of aquatic vegetation, but there is extensive algae growth and heavy growth of aquatic plant life along the shores, out perhaps 10 to 15 feet on either side of both portions of the lake.

Cruising up into the little bays along the shoreline means coasting over heavy plant life extending from the bottom to just below the surface, often plants that exceed five or six feet in length. Navigating through this growth reminded me of ships following leads in ice-covered waters in the polar regions of the world. There are leads that allow a kayak to get in close to the shore through narrow passageways.

A kayak can also coast over the plant life as long as the paddler uses short and shallow dips of the paddle. Such passage seems more akin to poling than paddling. But, this sort of travel also takes a paddler to areas where others cannot easily visit. Motorboats would just not be able to negotiate such a passage through the surface plant growth. I like to spend a few moments in such nearly inaccessible places observing the landscape and looking for animal life.

On past visits to Lake Lakota, I have found many turtles sunning themselves on logs. Sometimes I have found frogs sitting on pads, especially within the western arm of the lake. In the early spring, there have usually been large numbers of nesting waterfowl on the lake, particularly in the bays and into the western arm. Today, I saw almost no wild life. There were no turtles or frogs visible, and no waterfowl either. The only wildlife I saw were shore birds and some fish. While the water plant life is extensive, the water is also deep. In the “holes” and “valleys” of the underwater plant jungle, I could clearly see many fish, both large fish and minnow types. The water along the shoreline and in the western arm was usually four to seven feet deep, measured by plunging my paddle into the lake. Still, the water was clear enough to see these fish at a couple of feet below the surface.

For me, the lake was crowded. By the time I launched, there were two fishing boats on the lake; and when I returned, there were several people on the swimming beach as well. It felt like a mob had descended upon the lake.

I have visited Lake Lakota both in the early spring and in the late fall. I think that those are the best times to paddle this body of water. While I like sneaking into bays that are largely inaccessible to most boaters, I don’t like paddling over the thick plant life and sitting in a bay covered with green algae. Also, there is little to see in such conditions. I will return to Lake Lakota after we have had the first hard frost and the water has cleared. Early spring and late fall seem to me the best time of year for Lake Lakota.

I was happy to see that my Folbot is still in good shape. I have had it for about 12 years and originally got it so that I could avoid the hassle of car-topping a canoe. Assembling the boat normally takes about 15 minutes, and then when I get home the hull has to dry thoroughly before folding it back into the bag. I like the rigid kayak better for cruising and for quick entry into the water. Still, there is time required to lash it to the rack on my car and move it about. Maybe the time for preparing and securing the boat for a cruise is about equal for the Folbot and my rigid kayak. Assembling the Folbot, however, generally has me in a sweat before even launching into the water.

Past narratives of my cruises on Lake Lakota can be accessed from the menu of area waterways along the right side of the blog.

Lake Alvin – Late Spring 2010

2010-06-16T12:05:00.001-07:00

The past week here on the northern plains has been characterized by strong winds and heavy rains, a seemingly endless series of wet days, thunderstorms, day-long drizzle, flooding, and cool weather. Today was forecast as a break in this pattern: a one-day respite before more rain and storms arrive tonight or tomorrow. So, last night I decided to take advantage of the predicted good conditions and loaded up my kayak for a cruise this morning.

About 9:00 a.m., I left my eastside home and headed to Lake Alvin, a quick trip of about 13 minutes south on Highway 11. My last cruise on Lake Alvin was in March, just after the ice went out and the first hint of spring was apparent. On that cruise, I looked for evidence of new growth in the grass along the banks and observed many waterfowl getting ready for the nesting season. The dominate color around the lake in March was brown, still the drab colors of the long winter.

Today, a great transformation has taken place. The two and a-half months has turned the lakeshore into a lush green setting, almost a poster for the beauty of South Dakota in the summer. The temperature this morning was in the high 60s as I set out, and the predicted high today is about 80 degrees. The skies were clear, and there was only a light wind on the water.

As I set out, there was a fishing boat in sight, but the guy must have been wrapping up his trip; I passed it right away off the launching area but did not see it again. I headed north from the public access area and skirted the shoreline up to the northern end of the lake.

On my way back south, I stopped in at the spillway to check out conditions and found plenty of depth to enter the channel leading to the spillway. The spillway on Lake Alvin does not have any kind of warning signage nor a restraint across it. While it is difficult to imagine anyone foolish enough to approach the edge, it still is something to be aware of for the paddler. The spillway edge is a danger point for a boat, and any kayak or canoe should stand well clear of the edge. It is a long way down into turbulent water.

The lake was nearly deserted, as I usually find most waterways in the area, especially during the week. The swimming beach was empty. I did see a guy who seemed to be preparing a canoe for launch at the recreation area dock and ramp, but I did not see him again.

Paddling up to the northern end of the lake and back was a good first step, and that gave me an hour of sustained paddling. Then, I decided to head into Nine Mile Creek to see how it had changed over the past 10 or 11 weeks. The lake gradually narrows down from north to south until it reaches the entrance to Nine Mile Creek. The flow was strong going up the creek, and it got stronger as I continued upstream for a mile or so.

The channel in the middle of the creek was generally around four feet in depth, sometimes up to five feet. I did not see any waterfowl along the creek today, in marked contrast to the many ducks and geese that I saw in March. There were lots of perching birds, such as swallows and redwing blackbirds, that I could see and hear. Birds were calling continuously as I paddled past. There is a colony of cliff swallows nesting under the bridge along the creek course, and they flew about in large numbers as I passed.

I have kayaked Nine Mile Creek many times, always continuing until I have run out of water. Today, after so much rain, I continued upstream until the current was too strong to go any further. I had powered my way upstream as the creek narrowed to only five or six feet, and I was concerned as I tried to back out into the quick flowing current. The creek was too narrow at that point to turn, so I drifted backwards for several yards until I could turn around. The depth of water in this narrow, fast flowing stream was four or five feet. I did not want to get sideways in this stream, unable to turn and subject to being rolled over.

On my fast float back down the creek toward the lake, I was able to just steer and listen to the sounds of birds and the rustling of critters in the weeds along the shoreline. As the current slowed, I decided to check out the marsh on the edge. I like to poke into areas where visitors seldom venture. I went into the marshes about 30 feet, among the cattails and aquatic grasses. I found it easier to bull my way into the marshes than to go backwards out of them. It would be uncomfortable to get stuck in the marsh among the weeds and have to get out of the boat into water up to my knees.
I spent about two hours on my cruise up to the northern end of the lake and then back into Nine Mile Creek. A chief advantage of going to Lake Alvin is the short time needed for the drive. This lake is a wonderful paddling opportunity for people living on the east side of Sioux Falls. Thirteen minutes from driveway to the dock!

Readers can go to the waterways index on the right side of the blog and check out many narratives about Lake Alvin in all of its seasons.

Split Rock Creek - McHardy Park to Highway 42 Bridge

2010-06-07T13:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I happened to notice an invitation to paddle posted by David Finck on the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association Facebook page. He and his wife Mary and Larry Braaten, all directors of the SDCKA, invited paddlers to join them on a cruise along Split Rock Creek from McHardy Park in Brandon to the Highway 42 Bridge at the developing arboretum near the Perry Nature Area on the eastern edge of Sioux Falls.

Ten paddlers gathered with their kayaks at McHardy Park by 1:00 p.m. on Sunday. We moved our boats over to a launching point just below a set of rapids in the park. David and Mary used their van to organize a shuttle to move the cars down to the take-out point at the arboretum.

By about 1:30, we were ready to shove off from the park and head downstream. I have been on this stretch of Split Rock Creek three times, but those trips were always in September or October, and the water was always low. Today, the stream was flowing quite nicely and there was plenty of water. Shallow areas that required paddlers on past trips to claw their way across gravel bars had enough depth on this trip to allow a fast passage. I did not find it necessary to get out of my boat because of running aground at all on this trip. My last passage down Split Rock Creek two years ago took five hours: five hours of clawing along the bottom and getting out and dragging the kayak across sand and gravel bars. Today, we made the 8.65-mile trip in just over three hours, including a 20-minute break midway along the route.

Split Rock Creek is a hidden treasure. People traveling between Brandon and Sioux Falls are generally unaware of this waterway, moving sort of parallel to Highway 11. The course of the creek is obscured by tree growth along the high banks, banks that also shelter the waterway from wind.

The creek is usually 25-50 yards wide and has recurring sets of riffles that keep the paddler alert. Moving down this waterway requires a steady “reading” of the flow to make good choices regarding deepest channels for passage. The water is usually 3-4 feet deep, although there are shallow areas along bars and deep water along cut bank shorelines. As the route passes the confluence with the Big Sioux River, the width and depth increases markedly.

Today, we came upon a tree down across most of the creek; there was an open slot between the tree and the left bank through which we were all able to proceed without any problem. A tree across the stream is usually called a “strainer,” and such a situation is potentially hazardous to paddlers. The current across a strainer can be quite strong and can capture a boat, keeping it pressed into the branches and unable to escape. Small streams like Split Rock Creek are especially difficult, because a tree can easily fall across the entire stream. Larger streams like the Big Sioux River can also be subject to strainers and cause danger to boats. It is critical that strainers be approached with caution and afforded a wide berth. It might be better to get out and portage around a strainer rather than take a chance. Today, however, we were able to get past the tree without any difficulty. If the water were to be a bit lower, it would probably be necessary to portage around it. This strainer is on Split Rock Creek, perhaps a mile or so upstream of the confluence with the Big Sioux River.

The ten kayaks today tended to move in a group down the waterway. Sometimes large groups of paddlers spread out over time, but today the paddlers seemed to remain in sight of each other during the entire trip. There is an advantage in group paddling like this: the lead kayakers make choices regarding a bank to follow, especially in shelving water, and those following can evaluate the choice made by the leading boats. If the lead kayaks began to drag along in the shallows, those following can move to the other bank and just cruise past them, waving.

We stopped about halfway along the route to take a stretch break. Those farsighted enough to bring along a snack enjoyed the moment to nibble their treats. Those of us who are more shortsighted were able to vicariously enjoy their snacks.

A group of paddlers seldom is able to see much in the way of wildlife. There is too much conversation going on, and most animals steer clear of a flotilla of ten boats moving down the waterway. Today, though, a deer crashed through the brush and across the creek in front of us. Other than the deer, there was the usual variety of bird life to see along out passage.

Getting out of kayaks just before the Highway 42 bridge is a little tricky. The current today was pretty fast, and there is not anything like a beach or sandbar to use when getting off the water. The water is still rather deep at the shoreline, and there are large rocks along the shore. There is also a barbed wire fence to negotiate and a long and steep path up the shore to the parking area at the arboretum. This is not an easy exit point off the river, although it could be worse. It all depends upon whether you are a “glass half full” or a “glass half empty” sort of person.

This is a trip that is best made with the support of a shuttle and someone to help carry the boat up off the river to the parking area. I am really enthusiastic about making this trip now in the spring rather than the fall.

The ten kayakers enjoyed the opportunity to spend Sunday afternoon on Split Rock Creek with a group of like-minded paddlers, and I think that we all enjoyed the trip and the fellowship. Most of my kayaking is alone, observing nature on deserted lakes. I think that it is good to have a mix of paddling experiences. Alone is good, but so is the experience of traveling down a waterway with a group of friends and fellow kayakers.

Paddling Fair at Family Park

2010-06-05T15:21:00.001-07:00

The annual canoe/kayak paddling fair of the South Dakota Canoe/Kayak Association (SDCKA) was held this weekend at Family Park in Sioux Falls. Family Park is the newest addition to the park system in Sioux Falls, and this donated 90 acre park surrounds Family Lake, a 35 acre irregularly shaped lake formed from an old gravel pit. The park and the lake have been developed to provide a nature area within the western side of the city. The lake is stocked with a variety of fish, and the use of non-motorized boats is permitted.

The Park Department of the city and the South Dakota Department of Game, Fish, and Parks have collaborated in the development of this new recreational space. This park is intended to be totally a nature and fishing area rather than an athletic sports site.

Family Park is located off of west 12th Street at the intersection of the Tea/Ellis Road with 12th Street. The park is on the north side of 12th Street with an entrance just a few hundred yards north on the Tea/Ellis Road. The park has a number of fishing piers scattered around the perimeter and a boat launch ramp and dock. Temporary chemical outhouses are situated near the dock area.

At noon today, the skies were dark and rain had begun to fall. The temperature was around 60 degrees. The weather, however, did not deter a large group of SDCKA members from this planned event. By 1:15 or so, there were about 20 kayaks and canoes on the scene with paddlers ready to coach people who wanted to try out a kayak, some for the first time. The rain had passed, the sun came out from the clouds, and people began to take off their jackets.

Over the afternoon, perhaps 8 people who were new or nearly new to kayaking had appeared and were ready to take one or more boats out for a trial paddle. Others took the opportunity to try out a variety of available boats. All of us with boats also enjoyed the opportunity to paddle this lake, chat with friends, relive the South Dakota Kayak Challenge race from Yankton to Sioux City that took place last week, and just laugh it up with paddling pals.

(Pat Wellner of Pirates of the Missouri and his companion dog)

Family Lake is a good place to take people new to paddling. The lake has an irregular shape and appears larger than the 35 acres would suggest. The water is deep, and the shoreline is varied. I think that this is an especially good lake to take people out for an initiation into kayaking. It is also a good body of water to just exercise paddling skills and keep in shape for more challenging waters. I think that this is a fine addition to the park system in Sioux Falls, and I am glad to have another paddling option in the area.

(Steven Dahlmeier and Jarett Bies, President and Vice President of the SDCKA)

There was a pretty good wind today, so I took my big golf umbrella out with me and got in a little sailing.

Two of the television stations covered the event. It is apparent that kayaking has become a very popular recreational activity in the area.

People at the event were smiling and laughing in the sunshine. It was a fine afternoon!