Dear Tom,
I hope you remember me, the kayaker you met just outside of Pittsburg. I know you probably thought you’d never hear from me again, but life is full of surprises. I’m sorry that this letter has been so long in coming. I really meant to get it off to you sooner. Although I strive simply to be the hero of my own life, I know that what I do affects others. I always feel that I disappoint people when I don’t live up to their expectations and that made this letter hard to write. Actually, I know that what is hard is that I didn’t live up to my expectations of myself. It is difficult to look at my trip and really critique it…what went right, what went wrong, what should I have changed, and what can I do to change the outcome next time? However, it is a task that I have to do, especially if I want to succeed next time.
It is in writing this letter that I have done all of that, so in reality that’s probably what has taken me so long. I want to let you know all that has happened.
My husband told me that you called last summer while I was in New Mexico. I wanted to write and let you know about my time on the Ohio. Unfortunately, it wasn’t nearly the trip I had hoped it would be. I was only on the river for just over two weeks when I knew that I needed to get off. I can’t begin to tell you what a difficult decision that was but several things contributed to it. First of all the river was low…sorry that you guys hadn’t gotten at least some of the rain that had fallen here. I think the lowness of the river contributed greatly to the other problem I had which was the pollution…there was simply nothing to dilute what was being dumped in the river.
I cling to the shore…the result of my firm belief in the “law of tonnage”. I simply try to stay out of the navigational lanes so that I don’t run a risk of getting run over by the tugs and barges. When I was going through Wheeling there were a lot of discharge pipes. Most of them were dry but a few were dripping something into the river. My problems came when I passed a couple of pipes with large rubber closures that opened during discharge. These pipes were blowing out a foul, very acrid mist that was impossible for me to escape. I tried to hold my breath but what little I breathed in caused my lungs to burn and I was coughing for the next two days. The worst was the sores that appeared all over my arms and face….pretty gross to say the least. When the sores didn’t heal, a difficult thing to do in the best of situations on a river since in a kayak I continually get wet, I knew I needed to get out of the river.
However, on the good side were all of the “river angels” I met along the way. I think my husband already told you about the Salvation Army. I got stuck there because of a lightning storm that drove me off of the river. Usually I just pull my kayak up on the shore and lie down next to my kayak so that I’m not the highest thing in the surrounding area. The lightning kept popping so I decided to head to town to see if I could find a place to get out of the storm. It turned out that the only place in town was the Salvation Army. After all of the years I spent tossing money in the Salvation Army kettle, I never suspected that I would ever end up spending a night there, much less being the featured speaker for their “women’s group”. So I got a shower, a “requirement” for staying there, and a decent night’s sleep without having to worry if my tent would blow down. When I stand back and look at everything that happened it is quite comical. (It almost always is.) I guess that’s why the kids I teach as well as my friends and family enjoy hearing my river stories. However, at the time things are happening they rarely seem that funny.
I learn so much from my river trips, some of it is obvious and other things become clearer to me after I come off of the river and reflect back on all of the people I met and the things that happened. One thing I have come to realize is how humbling an experience it is to have to ask someone for a place to stay or for water…..although I have never been homeless, I now have more empathy, having experienced the sometimes degrading experience of having to ask someone if I could camp on their land. There is definitely a correlation between how large and upscale the house is and how often people say no. It is usually the working poor who welcome me not only to their land but who drop by my campsite bringing water, food, or just the time for a friendly chat. It has caused me to wonder what I would say to someone who stopped by my house and asked about camping on my land.
On the comical now/ scary then side of my trip is the fact that I ended up with a black bear outside of my tent in the middle of the night one night when I was camped in West Virginia. The deep huffing outside my tent sent shivers down my spine. I thought of all of the times I have camped in the Arctic with bear spray and noise-makers and here I was in West Virginia without any of those things. I rattled my tent and made a lot of noise and he (she?) backed off for a while, then came back about two hours later and finally went away for good. A couple of guys I ran into a day or so later asked me if I’d seen any bears. When I told them about the one in my campsite they told me that there had been a black bear running through the streets of a nearby town a couple of days before. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same bear.
The most memorable and thought provoking incident, however, occurred when I went through a set of locks in the middle of a hot, windless day. So often as I go through locks someone will yell down and ask if I’m OK, where I’m going, or how long I’ve been on the river. However, as I went through one set of locks, one of the guys standing far above me said, “Hang on, I’ve got something for you.” In a few minutes a rusty old coffee can was lowered toward my kayak. In the can was a baggie with a half dozen, large, cold strawberries. “Thanks,” I hollered back. “Thought you might enjoy those while we finish locking you through,” he replied. I opened the baggie, smelled the wonderful aroma, and slowly savored their sweet, juicy coldness as the water was pumped down. The baggie was obviously from his lunch and I wondered what it was that had prompted a stranger to share his lunch with me.
The lock gates opened; I waved goodbye and hollered my thanks once again. However, as I paddled on I continued to ponder the gift of the strawberries………….It’s easy to drop money in a kettle or write a check, facelessly giving to the “poor”, and on the other hand, it’s rewarding to actually help someone out and have them shake your hand or see the sparkle in their eyes. They guy who shared his lunch with me did something beyond that–giving to a stranger they would never really meet or know. It is a gift that I ponder because for me it really was more than just a baggie of ice cold strawberries on a hot day. I heard someone say once that when we say that a person “has soul”, what we mean is that they have the ability to make other people feel better about being alive. I have also heard “grace” described (one of many definitions) as that quality that allows us to be God’s hands in this world. When I think of a strawberry now, I think of what it means to have soul and grace. I know that no strawberries will ever taste as sweet and that I will never think of them the same way again. It’s for this reason that I chose a strawberry charm to represent my Ohio trip on my charm bracelet.
I guess you can tell that even though it was much shorter than I had planned, my trip on the Ohio was a memorable one. Most of the winter I contemplated where I would go this summer. However, in my heart I knew that I wanted and “needed” ( I hate giving up) to return to the Ohio and complete my trip. This spring I got a new kayak with a rudder which I knew would make paddling the Ohio easier and faster. (With a rudder every stroke is a stroke forward and there is no time wasted correcting or trying to stay on track.) I went back this summer and after about a month of paddling I finally arrived in Cairo.
This summer was filled with great days, as well as ones when I thought I would melt from the heat. My only scary moments were dealing with all of the construction (and rough water due to winds) at the new Olmstead dam/lock site. All in all I had an awesome time and I met countless wonderful people (river angels) who gave me water, food, and most of all the encouragement to finish my trip.
I have now paddled over 5,000 river miles (4,000+ solo) on the Missouri, Mississippi, Arkansas, Cimmaron, Mackenzie, Porcupine/Yukon, and the Ohio. In all those miles I have never met any better people than the ones who live along the Ohio. They truly are the heart of America.
I can’t thank you enough for your thoughts and the people you talked with about my “adventure”. I truly believe that some of my river angels last year, especially at the locks, may have been prompted by you. Enclosed is a picture I’m sending out this year to many of the people I met along the way. It was taken in Louisville. Also enclosed is an angel “coin”. It is like ones that I gave to many of my “river angels”. Please stick it in with your change and when you pull it out remember.
Hopefully we’ll meet again some day….until then, and always, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.
Scallop Songs 