Black River Trip, Fall 2011

Thank you, Joel, for providing an outline for my musings. Makes my life a whole lot easier.

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Thursday, October 13--Drive to Black River Falls and Camp at Castle Mound 

This was the first Thursday departure in the history of our fall canoe trips.  It worked well, even though we arrived after sundown. It's always the same, you want to leave work on time to get an early start but as you are leaving the door, time keeps on slipping. First, I don't think I would have made it home without stopping for gas. Not really time lost except I could have done it on the previous night. Then, The packing of the van always takes more time than anticipated, especially with a double load of canoes. It is getting better though, this is the first time I remembered how to slip the straps around the bars between the canoes. We left town at 17:00 and surprisingly,  traffic was not too much of an issue. The strong westerly wind buffeted our rear end and made the canoes act like sails. It's nice to start a trip chatting with friends some of which you haven't seen in a while. Politics, music, true crime, etc. made time fly by like the wind that was buffeting us from the rear. We reached Black River Falls around 19:30 and then found Castle Mound and its nice campground without further delay--no problem accommodating 3 tents at any site. We did a victory lap through the campground just to make sure that Craig had not arrived yet, he drifted in about 10 minutes after us. We set up our tents by car lights and soon had a nice fire going.  Delicious chili--with chocolate in it!--and good bread to mop up the juices.

Friday, October 14--Shuttle and Departure from Henry Olson Memorial Landing at Irving to Camp near Shallow Lake

I did not bring the promised Highlands Oats for a hearty porridge making everyone feel sad and down, because porridge was what everyone had been banking on. Fortunately I had made a strong coffee that appeased everyone and Craig threw a couple of shovels of granola bars among the raving and raging herd of prospective canoeists. Breaking camp and packing up was quickly done, and we were on our way. Craig, in his wisdom, had suggested to meet the taxi-cabbist in person to lay out our plan. After a quarter century in Wisconsin he knows the natives, he can come across as one himself. I got the cryptic directions to Falls Taxi on Woodlawn and we had a little trouble finding our way to the shuttle service. So we got to see Black River Falls and the dam construction underway. I spotted a sheriff's deputy helping an old lady across the street and hailed him. After some more crypticisms in terms of directions it turned out that I had been almost right the first time around, taking a right where I should have taken a left. I had been misled i part by the fact that this was Brockway, an unincorporated suburb of Black River Falls. From Castle Mound Camp Ground the directions are: go towards Black River Falls, to first major intersection. It's a T, there is a gas station hiding to the right some place. Take a left and proceed to Third Street. Take a left and then a right, continue till you get to Falls Taxi, there is a sign and here we were. Based on my experience (or rather lack thereof) with the native tongue, I decided to let Craig do the talking. He had no trouble conveying our needs and soon we were headed for Olson Memorial Landing.

At $44 the taxi service was very affordable, besides being friendly and prompt. After dropping off the gear, Craig in his and Ben in our car headed for the take-out point behind the Riverview Inn in North Bend. Shortly before they left, I had given word to Falls Taxi and they had dispatched someone right away, as it turned out the dispatcher had dispatched himself and came with a newish looking Chrysler van. Snacks were provided, actually better service than on many airplanes nowadays.

After our drivers returned, we checked Craig's 1:50k topo map, which he transported in a document tube, we all were very impressed--how many canoe teams have their own cartographer along?

The full crew, ready to shove off. Left to right: Craig, David, Joel, Ben,
Christian and Mellie

No turning back, now! (Photo by Craig)

We shoved off as soon as we were able to catch Mellie who would have preferred to keep fetching sticks from the water. Most of us started the trip in neoprene wading shoes or water sandals and especially Joel was grateful to have water shoes for the sometimes mucky river edges; he thought that bare feet throughout the trip would have been a little chilly. I switched from wading boots to bare feet to Tevas. The soft sand along most of our trip allowed most options and even the water temp seemed not too bad yet. We took a nice little picnic lunch on a sandbar and a great little sidetrip to see some waterfalls.

Visiting falls on Roaring Creek at (1) on the map, above.

Occasionally, a fresh breeze would blow into our faces and we had to paddle harder, especially Craig, our soloist. I am really enjoying paddling with Joel as my bowman on whose predictable stroke I can count. We developed a good rhythm and the wind hardly bothered us.

Looks like a good spot for camp!

We picked a sandbank to camp on by 15:00, just 500m past Shallow Lake and then mosied through the afternoon. I noticed dried out plants bearing seedpods with vicious burs. Mellie collected a couple between her toes which I helped her to remove. Since I had not seen this type of plant before, I meant to take one of the seedpods home, which I promptly forgot. When I finished the trip, I ended up finding one stuck on Mellie's leash. I could not find it with an online search but it took me only three minutes to locate it in Peterson's Field Guide to Wildflowers Northeastern/North Central North America: it was a cocklebur, Xanthium strumarium.

Still life with cockleburs, they are the plants center and top center of the photo

The seedpod looks downright scary, glad they don't have legs and that I didn't
meet one this size in the dark. In fact, they are only around 20 mm long.

Towards evening, the wind settled and Craig began preparing a terrific Beef Stroganoff in the Dutch oven for dinner. When he was done cooking we replaced his pit of hot coals with a lively little camp fire and enjoyed the meal, a couple of beers and wine and of course many good stories.

Listening for ghostly noises of the night.

As we were sitting in the dark, discussing the constellations that slowly brightened in the sky, ahead of the rising moon that would dim them again, we heard mysterious splashing steps in the water just across the river. Wisconsin Death Trip still freshly on our minds made us wonder. Was it a beaver, possibly with a cleaver?  Or merely a deer with a beer? We did not want to imagine that it might be some unimaginable horror springing another Wisconsin Death Trap.  Soon afterwards, a shrill catlike cry  did nothing to settle our imagination. One of us first wondered if it might be a cougar or a bobcat but the entire coyote population of Jackson County seemed to break out in howls--probably one of theirs. I also notice that when I looked into the woods with my binoculars in the direction where the moon would appear there were lights, doubtlessly reflections in Shallow Lake?

Saturday, October 15--Near Shallow Lake to State Game Refuge

We slept well during the night though some of us were startled by sudden wind bursts that almost sounded like someone was demanding access to our tents by rattling at the rain fly. During the pre-dawn hours, coyote and owl cries (was one a drunken owl?) kept the early risers entertained. Like during the previous day we had calm winds at breakfast, which consisted of a mega-stack of Joel's blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup and the obligatory bacon blend. All but one pancake were eaten by the hungry paddlers, the remaining one was donated to the intrepid guard dog of the expedition.  Some fly catcher, delayed on his trip south sang his little melody and once we started, many eagles and a couple of kingfishers. Beautiful sandstone bluffs along the river--we debated the height of the highest. We estimated it at about 60-70 feet, unfortunately with a big house on top. I checked the height later and found the top of the hill to be 120 feet with the actual bluff portion being at least 80 feet.

Exhausted from paddling into the wind or from eating too many flapjacks for
breakfast?

Shortly past the big bluff we went under the only bridge of this trip, Hwy 71/108 just south of Melrose. We stopped on an island to wait for Craig and from there we hit our toughest winds, churning up waves and whitecaps as we passed alongside about a 50+ foot sand embankment south east of where Hwy 54 climbs out of the Black River valley.  We had a hard time deciding where to stay for the evening and also a few debates as to our exact location. While working on the blog I compared topo quads some of which are dating back to the 1960s with more up-to-date satellite imagery. I was amazed to see that many of what looked like wide channels were now completely overgrown and barely visible from the river.

Comparing 1969 USGS topo to 2011 satellite imagery shows how the riverscape
changes. We camped on the sandbar close to the center of the satellite image.
There is no sandbar marked on the map. The channels east and west of our sand-
bar are well defined on the map and barely visible from the river. especially the
channel east is completely overgrown.

We went further than we'd planned in hopes of finding a better, more secluded sandbar. We stopped a couple of times, rejecting one with some potential due to the trailer park vistas it offered.

Camp is a beach ...

We eventually found a gigantic one--about 200 yards long and the width of a football field--sheltered from the river by a little elevated strip of greenery. I later found that on Google Maps, the satellite image shows it as an island. Still lots of wind, whipping sand everywhere and even rolling my canoe, which after a couple of flips was fortunately caught by its cousin, the Bell Woodwind.

... and so is life!

Joel was rather captivated by his current bodice ripper (great picture by Craig)

After a lazy evening of dozing, taking pictures and reading I began building a fire for the NY strip steaks, Texas toast, and Joel's martinis. What a feast! During dinner Mellie's hair stood on end and she stared upstream, letting off a deep growl. She walked a few steps into the darkness and sat down, keeping watch, only to return when she was convinced that no danger threatened from that direction.  We went to bed around 21:00 and as soon as we were in, it began raining gently. The rain soon stopped, it was to be the only precipitation of the trip.

Sunday, October 16--State Game Refuge to North Bend

Many types of owls heard overnight, more coyotes, too.  Lots of gunshots in the AM. Ben, with Craig's assistance concocted the Mountain Man Breakfast which was for mountain man and not for a bunch of wayward city slickers still digesting the steak from the previous night.

Once more we missed peak fall foliage. Maybe one weekend
earlier next year?

Living well: not sure how many liters of Dunn Bros. Kenyan/
FR Java went through the French press. 

We did the best we could to honor Ben's efforts. Still, there were quite a few leftovers. It was excellent, just a little too much. We cleaned and packed in a jiffy and left the lovely spot to brave the hunters' blazing guns. I still had a sense that this last leg would not take that much time.

During our paddle today we had our closest encounter with an eagle: it was a huge juvenile sitting in a tree just above us. About a mile of challenging paddling into the wind until we reached the north bend in the Black River, leaving us with all but 200m to North Bend. We finished by 11:30, only to find a dead car battery in the van. My neighbor Mike had warned me when he did the last checkup at Doran-King: almost time for a new one. I wnet to the nearest bar and could get one of the Packers fans to lend me his starter cables. The van started immediately. Part of it was doubtlessly using the headlights to build camp on Thursday night.

We had strong winds driving home, first from the side while taking the scenic route on W Hwy 54 and N Hwy 53 and then from the front, on I-94. The Cardinals beat Brewers that night and head to the World Series.

Overall

35 km total clocked on the Garmin Forerunner 305. The story of this year's canoe trip was WIND, WIND, and SAND.  The former was not always in our faces, but often enough while the latter found its way pretty much everywhere, including our food and our underwear.  Also, for the 3rd year in a row, we saw no people (aside from a few passing cars) from the time we hit the water until the time we ended on Sunday. Another great trip!

Trip Video