Ph: Nature: Canoeing The Mississippi Poem by Brian Johnston

Poet's Introduction:
Everything in this poem is true as I can best remember. I was about 28 at the time and my wife Kathy was 4 years younger so it has been a few years ago that we did this. This is not the end of this poem as Chapter 12 remains unwritten and there could be a miscellaneous chapter to pick up some missing items as the poem ages on me.


Chapter 1: Headwater Heaven

Overflow of the waters of Lake Itaska
You carry your wealth to the waiting world,
Mighty Mississippi, half savior, half sewer,
Plant and animal wastes, dissolved minerals,
Venting prairie deluge, dividing a Nation,
Exposed aquifer of Great Plains, home of Buffalo ghosts,
And their equally threatened ancestor, the prairie dog.

Standing at your mouth I can wade your depths,
Even jump your width in places,
Though it is more difficult than the boy imagined,
And the winter's overgrowth problematic.
Your lightning like flash across the land (1)
Has haunted my dreams the whole of my life
And pulled at my soul like the moan of distant trains.

Now I am here at last, my dream becoming liquid,
Wooden oars, tent, canoe and provisions waiting,
Dr. Peppers stored in a sturdy ice chest.
I am more than ready to see the world through your eyes,
And to meet the sea as well in your company (if fate allows.)
My wife a novice and myself not much more,
We launch ourselves, glissando (2) toward New Orleans.

Chapter 1 Notes:
(1) 'lightning like flash' - I was imagining here how much the path taken by the Mississippi across the land actually resembles a lightning bolt's flash across the sky to earth.
(2) glissando - A musical word meaning a gradual sliding transition in tone from one note to the next note on the musical scale.

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Chapter 2: The River Journey Begins

Deliberately provisioned light on our departure,
Bemidji, Minnesota, is our first port of call.
Though eighty miles by river's reckoning,
This first stretch is an annual competition
That canoeing experts make in one day,
But my sister, concerned about our safety,
Vows to wait for us three days there.

First days were slower than expected,
Trees were down requiring portage,
Small bridges also posed a problem,
Unpacking, carrying canoe around obstacle,
Then repacking, before paddling once more,
Light snow danced as we made camp,
Those first nights well below freezing mark.

It's not a well known fact, but mosquitoes
In Minnesota snort anti-freeze in the local gyms,
As a part of their pre-season training. (3)
However their proboscis' cannot get through
A two inch thick down jacket except at seams,
Which creates matching patterns on one's back,
When campers forget to spray clothing too.

Chapter 2 Notes:
(3) More Mosquito Jokes...
a. In Minnesota the State Bird is the mosquito.
b. Two mosquitos in Alaska are carrying off a human baby and one says to the other, 'Quick, let's get him to the forest and hide him before the bigger guys take him away from us! '

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Chapter 3: Finally Bemidji

Perhaps halfway to Bemidji we met a cleaning crew
Removing fallen trees but it helped us little
As they had only just started when we saw them.
The riverbed was much lower than fields it cut
So our vision was mostly of what lay ahead.
There must have been hidden springs though
For the water soon was deeper than our oars.

We really had no way to measure progress,
But pressed hard knowing Holly was waiting,
The evening of the third day, cooler ice intact,
And air temperatures over 40 Degrees,
Camped in pastures, no signs of human dwellings
Our propane stovetop making cooking easy,
With clouds of friendly gnats, shielding us from sun! (4)

Four and one half long days after departure
The first signs of ‘manfall' lessened guilt
As we crossed under a modern bridge,
My sister in beach front motel, called police.
Planes had been flying the river for two days
But the tree cover there hid us from view…
Food, baths, and bed capped perilous undertaking! (5)

Chapter 3 Notes:
(4) This line reminds me of a letter I sent to my mother when I was teenager putting up hay stacks to feed cattle during the winter in South Dakota. I mentioned the friendly gnats in her letter too and talked about how much money I was saving on sun tan oil but complained that there were so many that they blocked out the sun so much that I could not get a tan! But then I added that, in spite of this, I really didn't mind the gnats because they protected me from large flying red ants!
(5) My sister was so worried by our late arrival that search and rescue planes were sent out flying the river in search of our bodies! Ha!

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Chapter 4: Destination Cass Lake

Extra weight no longer a problem with deeper water,
We bulked up for the next leg of our journey,
Water containers, even some canned goods
An acceptable luxury in our seventeen foot canoe,
A canvas topping lashed everything in securely,
Offered some weather proofing for sensitive gear,
Like sleeping bags, some staples, and clean clothing.

Cameras were kept in waterproof pouches
That stayed within easy reach of paddlers,
Fishing rods and car mounts for the canoe,
In case we burned out, topped the load,
With ice chest and Dr. Peppers easily accessible.
In high spirits we set out on the next leg,
Destination Cass Lake's Boys' Camp Chippewa.

I had traveled this leg before as a twelve year old,
By canoe, but with less luxury, until Bemidji,
Where our young crew enjoyed an evening movie,
After downing a 'Paul Bunyan Special' banana split
One banana and seven scoops of ice cream,
Camp four miles across open water long after dark,
With only a fire on a distant shore to guide us home. (6)

Chapter 4 Notes:
(6) People die pulling stunts like this. In fact strong winds arose forced us to shore shortly after we started back with light rain and lightning flashes high in the sky! We had to pull our canoes wading in the dark along the shore for 3 hours to finally reach our camp. Our counselors pledged us all to secrecy for they would have been fired had management known the danger they put us all in.

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Chapter 5: Camp Chippewa Revisited 1968 and the Dam Caper

'Camp Chippewa, ' its tennis and rifle range, X-Class sailing,
And classic 'Old Town' canvas covered wooden canoes,
Not the low-class aluminum canoes of a 'Camp Thunderbird.'
Cass Lake - garden of the Mississippi's hidden currents,
Nature's setting for Star Island's fresh blue berry thickets,
Brisk, though swimmable waters, still safe to drink.
Cass Lake - child of the first dam, city sewage dumped below.

Kathy and I were warmly received by Chippewa's staff,
And given a hot meal and tour by the owner's son.
Though it was too early for the new season's initiates,
The rustic setting and friendly staff made us feel at home.
Early afternoon found us approaching the first dam's spillway,
Though Kathy thought me crazy, we unloaded the canoe,
And I paddled it alone through the one open gate, YAAHOO! ! (7)

How many dreams can you remember coming true?
This whole trip was a waking dream, a gift for me,
Including having a wife who was willing to share it.
Miles of river already, dust shaken from our gunnels,
Adventures of the days to come hanging like a white sheet
Strung between trees in an unwired, impoverished village,
Only imagination powers the projector of what can be. (8))

Chapter 5 Notes:
(7) The main thrill of doing this was that we had not been allowed to do it when I visited this dam site on a canoe trip while attending Camp Chippewa as a 12 year old. The water drop from the lake side to the river was about two feet only, but it was still fun!
(8) This wonderful image is the child of an experience from my American Peace Corps experience in East Africa. Once a month a VW Van would show up in even the most remote villages and they would hang up a white sheet across ‘main street' and show ‘free' older movies to the locals like ‘Tarzan, The Ape Man.' Villagers thought that Tarzan was quite a funny, if stupid guy. You don't talk to monkeys you eat them! Of course, then, between every reel, there would be ten minutes of hard core advertising for everything from toothpaste to cigarettes to alcohol and always girls hanging on the arm of the man buying these products! I always assumed that advertisers paid for these monthly films but I do not know that to be true.

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Chapter 6: Early River Magic

Like a young girl, early river is inviting,
Charms a plenty, but surprising secrets,
We imagined potential rapids around every corner,
A new born fawn and doe caught drinking,
Whole families of hatchling ducks,
So curious we could have fed them,
Greeting silent canoe as larger ‘mother.' (9)

Further down the river, older cousins
More attentive to true mother's warnings,
Disappeared as if by magic (under water)
Foraging lessons adapted to defense now,
Dandelion seeds moving with the current
Scattered by a child's loving breath and wish
A river's view of duck development.

A magic too in river's meanders - (10)
Sometimes they cut into each other
So that one loop votes itself out of action
Becoming obsolete to river flow,
And wild rice growing there filters even more
The rich loam carried by cloud burst erosion
Always looking for a quiet place to call home.

Chapter 6 Notes:
(9) In Nature there is something called the ‘Imprinting Process' where young animals like ducks will follow what ever large animal presents itself if the real mother is absent for some reason. I think that this first group of hatchlings actually thought our canoe was their mother for a short period of time.
(10) By paying close attention to the river banks we discovered several newly formed breaks like this that allowed us to perhaps save a mile or more of paddling by just canoeing through the new opening.
 
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Chapter 7: Minnesota River People

Oh let me sing of Minnesota's river people
No, not holiday boaters, but those rare few
Whose homes and hearts embrace the river,
Trafficking in all that she so blithely carries.
Backyards a port of entry for wayward canoeists
Seeking naught but groceries and Dr. Peppers,
Well, maybe an occasional Dairy Queen as well.

Dinners, showers, homes left open, conversations,
Tales of those who came before, war stories,
Worn proudly as they counted victory and loss as well,
Fodder of a life well lived, trophies of significance
Those who wrote to thank them, those who didn't.
I see now too that I myself was not grateful enough,
The safety of a home's backyard is holy ground.

Once as dusk was stooping lower
River banks loomed high above us
Blocking view of a good night's campground
I spied tire tracks suggesting boat ramp
And pulled ashore to check it out.
Found above game warden's yard and home.
He drove us 30 miles to replace used camera film. (11)

Chapter 7 Notes:
(11) The hospitality and generosity of the Minnesotan people we met on this trip was for me almost beyond belief. We truly were treated like celebrities.
 
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Chapter 8: Problem Solving

Every journey worth its salt has rocky places
Bank to bank filled with frothing white water,
The economics of avoidance, steering a lean course,
Avoiding higher peaks that thrill - vouchsafed to others.
Rest days taken during times of lower water
Even portaging some sections altogether,
Below one dam a three mile jumble of boulders.

Only one stretch really caught us napping.
Truth be told it really had me worried,
But knowing that we were riding higher water
I steered as best I could between foaming protrusions
That prudence whispered likely hid a rock.
Just once, as I recall, we grounded on a gravel bar,
But I pushed us off before current turned us broadside. (12)

Minnesota's rollicking Mississippi is a charmer,
And many State Campgrounds court her boundaries,
Some even have hot water showers and manicured sites,
But a pall of mosquitoes infests more timbered parks
That no wind short of a tornado has the power to disperse,
We ate our evening meals under beekeeper's hats and nets,
It is funny when mosquitoes dive bomb cooling plates of food. (13)

Chapter 8 Notes:
(12) This is a real danger for a canoe in a rapid. A canoe that turns broadside to the rushing water can be rapidly filled with water and swamped.
(13) We had to eat our meals quickly because as the heated food began to approach our body temperatures, the mosquitoes would be fooled and start attacking our food, like God's pepper shaker.

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Chapter 9: Portaging Older Dams

Eleven Minnesota dams we had to portage
All without clear use for folks today
But as the Mississippi is a ‘navigable' river.
Owners are required by law to transport boats
Around these artificial barriers to ‘commerce'
And ‘social intercourse' (like our canoe.)
This can make the dam owners hard to find!

Most of these dams backed up water only
For short distances, historic nuisances today, (14)
Maintained only now to prevent further damage
To the altered ecosystem they themselves created,
A rare incidence of business being held responsible.
Or a clever ruse to avoid the real clean up costs?
It's hard to trust that anyone alive is not ‘Me! Me! Me! '

But the owner's of the dam with the three mile
Impassible boulder field below it won our praise.
A pickup was sent with two strong men
Who picked up the canoe gear and all,
Slipped it into the back, and tied it down.
Within an hour we were back in the water,
Paddling downstream with the current.

Chapter 9 Notes:
(14) Some of these dams are identified still by the function they served. One for instance is called the Blandin Paper Company Dam though I saw no evidence that it was still in use. Other dams named after the towns that they are near like the Little Falls Dam and The St. Cloud Dam might still back up water for the towns that they are named after and close to.

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Chapter 10: Modern Dams & Locks

A highpoint of our whole trip, a lock and dam,
Originally St. Anthony Falls in Minneapolis - St. Paul. (15)
Can you imagine how Spanish explorers felt
Entering California's Golden Gate for the first time
It lay undiscovered for over two hundred years
Of coastal exploration by the Spanish,
Seen first by hunters on a land expedition in 1769! (16)

First completed in 1963, this amazing lock, (17)
56 X 400 feet long, drops your boat over 49 feet
When we pulled the chain signal, (our first lock) ,
Two men came out to look over a concrete wall
Because they could not see us from the control room.
When they saw our tiny canoe, they had hysterics,
And then let us go through the lock by ourselves.

The heavy upstream gates closed and then
The water underneath us started churning
As valves were opened that let out the water
On the downstream side, and sky above us
Disappeared as if we were descending to hell.
Normally one would have to wait until the lock
Was full of small boats, once again we were royalty.

Chapter 10 Notes:
(15) There are two famous painting of the original Falls of Saint Anthony that can be found on the internet and were painted by Henry Lewis and George Catlin in the late 1800's.
(16) I was actually able recently to sail through the 'Golden Gate' on a three masted replica of an early sailing ship. That was a very nice trip.
(17) The trip by canoe through the upper Saint Anthony Falls Lock and dam was so much more exciting. If you are ever in the vicinity a charter boat trip through a lock or two should not be missed.

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Chapter 11: The Problem with Lakes

Canoes and larger lakes don't mix well I'm afraid,
The rough equivalent of a margarita and a toothpick.
On the Mississippi a lake means a dam somewhere,
The scenic route buried now under dam water
Its prurient writhing now veiled from prying eyes
By puritanical hedonists more interested in flood control
And water reserves, than glacial art or Sculptor's knife of water.

The placid appearance of a lake is modern quicksand
For a loaded canoe with its low running boards,
The wake of pleasure craft the worst as dilettantanti
In power's limits, rush to greet you, cameras flashing.
The huge commercial barges pushed by true power craft
With opposing twin screws, create almost no wake at all,
But neither can they stop on a dime, so best stay clear.

Many Mississippi lakes cannot be seen across
And though the shortest path from entrance to egress
May be obvious to you, it may not be the wisest choice.
A day's weather can change in minutes, who's to warn you,
And some lakes can take hours to cross, what's Plan B?
You've no flight plan, the lake may be deserted, who'll miss you,
And a sudden wind's waves on a large lake can kill you. (18)
 
Chapter 11 Notes:
(18) And if the waves don't get you it is likely that the water temperatures will if your canoe is swamped.

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Chapter 12: Harvesting Wild Rice

Sorry! I am having trouble writing this chapter due to the fact that my knowledge of this quite interesting, I think, annual local event is based on 1968 memories and may not be factually accurate today. So this Chapter will not be released until I confirm that its information is accurate.

Chapter 12 Notes:
? ? ? ? ?

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Chapter 13: Leaving the River

Our leaving the river I think surprised us both,
But the seeds were sown early in our preparations,
And shared philosophy of following our bliss,
Simply stated, the trip stopped being fun,
Prairie du Chien, Iowa, was just where it happened,
Three days of an unending slow drizzling rain
That wet our spirits and soaked us through. (19)

To save weight our small canvas pup tent just held
Our heavy Coleman zip together sleeping bags.
Down bags and lightweight backpacker's tents
Were unknown to us (even if available in 1968) ,
Room to stand up in a lightweight tent
With rain proof over fly to keep tent walls dry,
A luxury we had not even dreamed of.

The river's two-mile width cut pleasure in half (20)
As now only events on one bank could be viewed,
The opposing bank so distant as to be non-existent,
The river's reality imposing itself on our desires. (21)
Adventures are not something that you stumble into,
A sadness or a great joy that life thrusts upon you,
No, adventures are the imagination that you bring to life!
 
Chapter 13 Notes:
(19) Being caught in a prolonged rain event was something I simply did not plan for at all. Being basically trapped on the river with no shelter but a pup tent for three days is not my idea of fun. It's difficult to cook as well and that pup tent came as close as I ever want to come to a prison cell.
(20) With the river being so wide, property along the river became more and more commercial as well, making it far more difficult to get supplies when needed. Town on one side of the river might have easy access to needed provisions but how are you to know.
(21) Reality always imposes limits on imagination and our imaginations are never really as free as we might like to believe. Some circular logic here I imagine. Ha! Because we live in this reality though, we are usually unaware of how constrained our imaginations are, like a fish trying to imagine living outside of the water that defines its life. Pretty difficult!

The very word adventure carries with it a suggestion of thrill, danger, unexpected happenings, etc., all closely connected with pleasure and pain. Even defeat teaches us valuable lessons for the future. Those who only follow the easy course in life may be safer, but my guess is that they are also more bored and boring.

Finding life to be a pleasurable adventure may even be independent of the paths you chose, having much more to do with the possibilities that you are open to on your path. Imagination is one key to a well lived life. Give yours a chance! Adventure happens when you embrace your own life, when you choose it, ideally even own it. Disaster is what happens when you absolve yourself of any responsibility for what has happened to you.

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Brian Johnston
October 31,2014



 
Early Comments:

Chapter 1: Early Comments
Gangadharan Nair Pulingat 10/25/2014 11: 35: 00 PM)
Nature and its inspiration. The poem on Mississippi is beautiful and wonderfully written which I enjoyed by reciting.

Valsa George (10/22/2014 10: 48: 00 AM)

‘Your lightning like flash across the land
Has haunted my dreams the whole of my life
And pulled at my soul like the moan of distant trains'

Reading these lines I am reminded of John Masefield's two lines; 



'I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied'


Like him, the waters of Mississippi have lured you and you are getting ready for your adventure filled voyage in a canoe! Have a wonderful time, Brian!

Douglas Scotney (10/19/2014 6: 48: 00 PM)
good luck Brian and wife. Looking forward to Chapter 2

Kevin Patrick (10/19/2014 6: 39: 00 PM)
Nice stuff, it sounds like your heading for a great adventure, the description of the places sounded like a country song, I especially love the last stanza, your preparation for the voyage ahead of you, makes me wish I was doing what you were doing, say hello to Huck and Jim when you're going down the river.

Chapter 5: Early Comments
Abekah Emmanuel (10/24/2014 7: 32: 00 AM)

'Miles of river already, dust shaken from our 
gunnels,
Adventures of the days to come hang like a white sheet
Strung between trees in an unwired, impoverished village,
Only imagination powers the projector of what can be.'

The above lines impress me deeply, with our imagination, we can dream of a better and brighter future although our current condition may be challenging. I like the comparison of this to a scene in a village, where there is no electricity but yet, the people, with their own powerful imagination, are able to power and display images from the projector. I like how time swings back and forth in this epic. Great poem!

Bri Edwards (10/23/2014 10: 26: 00 PM)
Somehow, after reading it once, I missed (or forgot) that 'you' rode the canoe through the open gate alone. Bravo, you reckless paddler! 

The last four lines made me think a bit more than I like to. [ I think I would use hung or hanged, instead of hang.] 
 :) but I think I worked through them well enough and like them. Memories of Peace Corps work perhaps? 
Yeah, I kind a like this one. Ok, for you I gave it a thumbs up. Thanks for sharing. And (I see that) there are earlier segments in your poem list? :) bri

Chapter 6: Early Comments
Kumarmani Mahakul (10/23/2014 11: 55: 00 PM)
A magic too in river's flow, very nice writing shared on desk.

Chapter 8: Early Comments
Saheb Mohapatra (10/26/2014 10: 54: 00 AM)
IT'S AN OUTSTANDING POEM........A JOURNEY OF THE WORLD FAMOUS RIVER MISSISSIPI.........SHOWS YOUR LOVE FOR NATURE.

Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (10/25/2014 11: 29: 00 PM)
A great writing and experience of such a journey very glad to read. Mississipi the river and the journey so great and wonderful experience. Glad to read the poem.

Chapter 10: Early Comments
Valsa George (10/31/14)
A very adventurous trip in the waters of Mississippi with the inherent tensions of being caught in churning waters and later the relief of getting out into placid waters! The historical details add credibility to the description! Enjoyed!

Chapter 11: Early Comments
Bri Edwards (11/2/14)
‘Its prurient writhing now veiled from prying eyes'

few PH members, i think, would write such a thing. i might if prurient was in my vocabulary. :)

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pru·ri·ent 

ˈpro͝orēənt/ 
adjective 
adjective: prurient 


having or encouraging an excessive interest in sexual matters. 

she'd been the subject of much prurient curiosity 
synonyms: salacious, licentious, voyeuristic, lascivious, lecherous, lustful, lewd, libidinous, lubricious; formal concupiscent 

she was completely turned off by his prurient remarks 



Origin 
late 16th century (in the sense ‘having a mental itching') :
from Latin prurient- ‘itching, longing' and ‘being wanton, ' from the verb prurire. 
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‘The wake of pleasure craft the worst as dilettantanti'

dilettante 

noun 

(amateur) an amateur who engages in an activity without serious intentions and who pretends to have knowledge 
Synonyms: dabbler, sciolist. Type of: amateur 


adjective 

(superficial) showing frivolous or superficial interest 
Synonyms: amateurish, dilettanteish, dilettantish, sciolistic. Similar to: superficial 
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when i looked up this word, using google, the fifth listed 'article' was about you and your PH poem! well i guess your word is spelled differently; it probably has to do with music. you forgot the footnote!

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the poems in your Canoeing series sometimes seem more like prosaic travelogue stuff. they are interesting, but don't seem always poetic. 

i've read almost all of them so far. thanks for sharing. where are the photos? bri :) 



you really PLANNED this trip? around age 24. and a woman went with you, for real?


Pranab K Chakraborty (10/30/2014 1: 40: 00) 

.... puritanical hedonists more interested in flood control / And water reserves, than glacial art or Sculptor's knife of water...... Many Mississippi lakes cannot be seen across........... Beautiful Metaphor and imagery...well combined.