The Training Crew 07/12/2011
 There is with no doubt that our “training blog” has been a series of outings where training has been minimal at best. We had been blessed to spend quite a few weekends together on rivers throughout the state, but the emphasis has been far from training for a race. Which, if you read the first post, you could have predicted that we are not out to win a race, but are extremely excited about emerging into the adventure atmosphere. There are some hard core racers who look down at the “adventure racers”, as an entirely different class. And it’s true, we are. I will be the first to admit I will have difficulties maintaining a fast pace when my mind and soul is searching for the relaxing and rejuvenating feeling that is typically associated with sitting in a canoe. But regardless of the expected outcome when entering a race, whether it be adventure, competition, adrenaline, stamina, endurance, ….the one thing we all share is the enjoyment of being on the river in a craft powered completely from the physical effort put forth. Add Comment Kawnivore 06/24/2011
 With the cancellation of the July MR 340, Team MoDak has decided to throw our paddle into the mouth of the Kawnivore; a 100 mile race on the Kansas River (a.k.a the Kaw River) on July 22-23. No doubt this will be a brutal challenge and being considered a “finisher” will be quite an accomplishment. The good news however, is that our training regime will not have to change. True the Kaw is a much different river requiring a different skill set, but we have been so busy that our training had been minimal to zero to begin with, and finding the time to train more is practically impossible, especially considering the amount of traveling we have been doing this summer. Separately, we have both been driving approximately 2,000 miles a month. It is nothing short of craziness, but somehow we still manage to find some river time tucked between our short and random days off. To add to the adventure, we still had a week planned originally for the 340. Rather than change our schedule on these dates, we are driving with family to Colorado, for a few nights in Rocky Mountain National park and surrounding area; then hitting the Kaw River on the return trip home. In my opinion, there would be no better preparation for what might be the most challenging race we have ever entered than to return from a soul rejuvenating trip in the mountains. Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn. –John Muir God Willin and the creek don’t rise- 06/06/2011
It seems the theme of the MR340 for the past couple of years has been “God willin and the creek don’t rise”, but similar to last year-- God wasn’t willin-and the creeks surely rising! We wanted to send a note to everyone who has pledged support for Team MoDak in raising funds for Missouri River Relief. Our pledge to race 340 miles in the world’s longest non-stop canoe race is not going to happen, but do not consider your pledge or donation a wasted investment. The Upper Missouri River is seeing flooding like never before in the history of the modern engineered river. The reservoirs are releasing at unprecedented rates- flooding communities and land throughout the entire Missouri River basin. This year will be recorded in history as the worst flooding event on the Missouri River in recent times. In place of the MR340 is a 150 mile race on the Kaw River in Kansas. Sarah and I are both Mizzou Alumni, so it should come as no surprise to our wondering what is worse, a cancelled MR340 or an alternate race in Kansas. Slightly willing to pour salt on an open wound-we have considered the possibility of racing the new race, but do not feel the strong connection to the Kaw River as we do the Missouri. As many of you know, we never held the extreme racing persona, but wanted to do the MR340 from the connection we feel with the river. The theme of our fundraising efforts has been to Support the Big Muddy, which includes supporting the communities and families affected by this year’s flooding. Missouri River Relief will without a doubt be assisting communities in need wherever their assistance can be useful and beneficial. We are currently in a brainstorming period as there are still many unknown variables to what the river is going to do, especially in the lower stretches. But rest assured that your pledges will be supporting the Big Muddy-as we promised. We will never know how Team MoDak would have performed in the MR340, but we exceeded our financial goal to support the Big Muddy, which may serve to be much more beneficial in the troubling times ahead than the adventure that followed. As for Team MoDak in 2012-well, the third time is a charm, right? After two years of planning and training for this seemingly elusive event-perhaps it’s best to let the water settle a little before we begin pondering the possibility for what lies in 2012! In wildness lies the hope of the World 05/05/2011
 Congress defines our Nation’s designated wilderness as areas that are untrammeled by man, and where man himself is a visitor who does not remain. It is an area where wildlife live wild lives. We experienced the wildness of our designated wilderness within the Ponca Wilderness on the Buffalo River, Arkansas. The adventure was a two night canoe trip with the Kellenberger family, Joe, Allison, Eli (15) and Hanna (12). We launched our canoes and kayaks from the Ponca low water bridge on a sunny Friday afternoon and drifted alongside the towering bluffs and turquoise colored waters of the upper Buffalo. Our loaded canoe (complete with two nights worth of luxury camping and two Labradors) was dragging the rocky bottom of every shoal. At one point I even exclaimed that I wish we had more water, as I was growing tired of polishing every rock with the bottom of the boat. Perhaps in our desire for more water we should have been more specific as too just how much more we wanted. Unbeknown to us, the river was listening. We pitched camp that night on a high bank within an open savannah bottom land. After a hearty dinner and a relaxing fire, they sky gave in with little showers. We marked the water’s edge with a stick to measure the rise of the river and retired to our tents for the night. We inspected our river gauge the next morning to find that she had only risen a few inches, but the sky was black. Wasting no time, we packed camp, loaded the boats, and continued downstream. Just as we exited the canopy of the trees at camp, the sky broke free. The rain pounded down in buckets. We were all laughing at first, enjoying the steady beating of the rain upon us. But in time the smiles drifted to frowns as our body temperatures dropped. Just ahead was Jims Bluff, with an overhanging ledge that blocked the rain. A perfect opportunity to pull over and stay dry until the rain let up. The ledge of the bluff line was a good 10 feet above the water line. We pulled the boats ashore on the ground near the upper edge of the bluff. The consensus was to wait it out, and with such a nice dry spot to camp, decided to wait out the storm. Our map indicated that we were close to the trail leading to hemmed in hollow, so we spent the afternoon hiking to the largest waterfall in the Midwest positioned at the end of the hollow. The rain had increased the intensity of the 200 foot waterfall to a thunderous roar. We returned to our camp under the little ledge later that evening to a swollen brown river. We knew that the river dropped as fast as it rose, so we weren’t too concerned seeing as we weren’t paddling until the next day and we had acquired such a nice dry camp under the overhanging bluff. We sat around a small fire that evening, while the sky broke free once more, only this time ferociously. Meanwhile, the river had no place left to go but up. Around midnight I awoke to a slight sound of metal clanging. I grabbed a light and crawled to the edge of the bluff. Shining the light through the pouring rain, I see my canoe floating along edge of the bluff, a paddle inside tapping on the sides of the boat. The river had risen, flipped over the boat, and miraculously pushed it against the bluff, rather than sucking it downstream. The other canoe was partially submerged. We climbed off the bluff and slid the boats to the top where we were sleeping. The canoes had narrowly escaped, but the kayaks did not share the same fate. The river had separated us from the ledge where we placed the kayaks. We were shining our lights trying to see any signs of the boats, but they appeared to be gone. It was here that we realized that we are in a bad spot. We knew we could hike out, and hit a trail that leads a few miles north to a gravel road. But we would have to sacrifice the boats and most of the gear. The night slowly crept by as we patiently awaited the breaking dawn to reveal our fate. The morning dawn never officially came; replaced instead by a gray sky slowly emerging from the dark clouds. We found one kayak that was miraculously spared from the downstream torrent, but the other one was never again seen. The good news was the rain had stopped, and the river was dropping. The brown river was roaring, but estimating the rate of the drop we were thinking we would be able to paddle out the next morning. We had enough food and a filtration unit to provide plenty of water, all was left was the time…and hope for less rain. We hiked around a little searching for cell phone reception, but the wishful thinking was just that, as we were miles from the slightest sign of civilization, even from the highest point around. Around 2 o’clock that afternoon, we see a raft and a whitewater canoe paddling around the bend toward our bluff. “Park Rangers” they exclaimed as they approached our little bluff ledge. A few minutes of conversation about our situation, confirming everyone here was ok, led to the statement that we had to leave, right now. “We’re predicting at least ten more feet of water coming down this way, if you want out, we have to go right now” expressed the man in the whitewater canoe, later identified as the general manager of the Buffalo Outdoor Center. Looking at our little bluff, it was easy to assume that ten more feet of water, and our bluff ledge would be an underwater shelf. “We want out, but we have loaded down canoes, not capable of white water, with kids and dogs”. I expressed. The response I received was delivered with an unsure tone, but accompanied by tips on how to keep the boat stable and stay near the raft. We packed camp in record time. Hannah was seated in the raft, as we were one kayak short. The whitewater canoe lead the way, insisting we stay to his course as much as possible. The river was wide enough under the flooding conditions that it eliminated many of the obstacles. Our two labs could sense the presence of danger, as they hunkered down with little to no movement. We were navigating the waves with ease, despite the gunwales being only a few inches from the surface of the water. Around the bend was Hells Half Acre, were we were instructed to “just do the best we can”. The waves were rolling about 5 feet high. We both laughed when we saw it, not believing we were doing this. I spoke softly to the dogs as we approached, calming them as I struggled to rudder the canoe head on into the rapids. We climbed over the first of the rapids taking in loads of water. Our weight was too heavy to stay above the rolling wakes. By the third rapid, I could tell we were riding much too low, and felt the boat sink from under our seats. Tank was swimming to stay in the boat, and Dakota gave me a wild expression as was drifting along my side. We held on to the canoe, as its buoyancy kept it near the surface of the water. Still seated, albeit underwater, we navigated the remaining rapids and tried to get to shore. Dakota swam back to the boat and climbed in Sarah’s lap as I struggled to get us to shore before the next bend and more rapids. The problem with a flooded stream is that there is no shoreline. The water was in the trees, which could create a difficult situation if you get pinned between the water and a tree. Fortunately, we were able to find a spot where we could pull up enough to roll the boat. Looking back, the rest of the crew handled the rapids great, especially Eli, navigating the little kayak over the rolling water like a pro. The dogs revealed their trust as they had no issue getting back into the boat, despite their expressions asking “are you absolutely sure we need to do this?” The end was just around the bend, with no other major incidents. We had survived with a great adventure story. The feeling of accomplishment soared as we looked back at the swollen river. We did not just paddle on the Buffalo River, we paddled through it. The unknown variables of this trip created in all of us a memory that we will likely never forget. A memory of an adventure in the wilderness, the way wilderness should be experienced........wild! Afterword: The Buffalo River continued to rise, reaching 18 feet above the Ponca bridge. When we paddled out, it was less than 1 foot above the bridge.  Shoot the Chute 04/13/2011
 The conditions were near perfect on our first long training day of the year. We paddled the 46 miles between Glascow and Katfish Katies. We were accompanied by Colin Dogget and Jodi Pfefferkorn. Just upstream from mile marker 219 and the infamous Lisbon bottoms, we had a discussion on the potential for shooting the chute. After the great flood in 1993, the powerful Mighty Missouri swept through the rock structure holding the form of a major bend, creating a chute across the bend. The chute still exists, allowing a narrow stretch of river to escape the bend. We agreed to scout it out before attempting to go through the chute. The varying water elevations will determine the drop at the entrance of the chute, with large rocks scattered along the entrance. The sound of the rapids increased as we approached and we began to see large whitecaps forming from the water reversing off the rocks.  Sarah and I navigated to the downstream side of the chute where Collin was already checking out the entrance. We knew we would not be able to take our fragile boats over, but we wanted to see if there was a chance that Jodi could take her (recently determiened)indestructible solo through. As we were rounding the chute, we see Jodi cruising from the upstream side. Surely she was not going to go for an attempt without scouting it first, but before anyone could say anything, she surged over the edge……and disappeared.  The entrance to the chute was at least a three foot drop scattered with rocks larger than our boats. We raced to the edge, still not entirely sure where or what happened to her. We portaged around the chute and saw a bobbing head floating thirty feet downstream from the rapids, sunken boat in tow. Jodi shot the chute, and although she didn’t have a chance at staying upright……survived to tell the story!  We continued through the chute, back to the Missouri, and finished the trip in about 8 hours, averaging around 6.5 mph for our moving speed. We also took a passenger around Boonville, when a little garder snake was desperately trying to climb into our boat from the middle of the river. Not sure what it was doing crossing the river, but it didn’t look like it had the strength to continue. Sarah picked it up, and as we hauled it to shore it regained its strength and gave her a little bite on the arm. It was enough to scratch the surface, but not enough for Sarah to let go of it. As we released it on the bank, we thought about how it having its own little survival story of forging the mighty MO. Shooting the Chute and snake bit........just another day on the river! Rummagin' Float trip 04/07/2011
The rummage sale dominated our weekend! KOMU news was at our doorstep at 4:30 a.m. setting up for a live news coverage from the scene. It was awesome....and the community effort was a treasure in itself. We have reached our finacial goal, but are starting to think we might have a chance to hit $5,000?!? Although managing the rummage sale was quite exhausting, we found the energy to get on the river saturday night for a 10 mile paddle from Katfish Katies to Coopers Landing. A raft of pelicans circled above head as we rounded the bend at California Island. The water sparkled and reflected the setting sun, and music filled the valley as we approached the live bands playing at Cooper's! Now with the fundraising coming together, perhaps we will step up the training a notch!! Upper Big Piney 03/23/2011
So we unfortunately missed the Perche Creek Gutbuster, a ten mile race on the Perche Creek near Columbia. Our plans for this weekend had developed last fall for volunteering with a great group of people with the Ozark Trail Association. We worked all day Saturday repairing tread on the Ozark Trail between the eleven point and current rivers. On Sunday, our initial plan was to paddle a 20 mile section of the Jacks Fork River, but when we arrived at the river we learned that just downstream from where we wanted to put in was closed due to large debris blocking the only accessible route. Without hesitation we altered our plans and drove to Houston to paddle the upper stretch of the Big Piney River, starting at Baptist Camp (the location of the first reintroduction of River Otters to Missouri). It is an amazing stretch of river that recieves very little use due to it only being navigable in higher water. The narrow twists and turns require slightly technical maneuvers with logs strategically aligned for barriers of a safe passage. The spring sunshine beat down on us as we paddled along the rock outcropping and overhanging sycamores. We passed dripping spring’s natural area with its two natural springs that cascade 30 feet into the river and were briefly graced with the presence of two river otters as they scurried down the bank and disappeared. Multiple pairs of wood ducks and kingfishers skimmed the water’s surface at our arrival and turtles of various size splashed from their sun bathing log perches. A great day for an Ozark Float…….errr……I mean an Ozark Training day! "Dig Deep" 03/18/2011
So what exactly constitutes training? This was the question we asked each other as our river plans were halted Saturday morning when we noticed a spring of water had developed in our backyard. The uniqueness in our newly acquired spring was that it would only surface when our washing machine was draining. It doesn’t take much intelligence to make the connection of where this water was coming from, but how? This was the question that instigated my digging for the sewer line. The hole was easy to find, but the problem was still unclear, as the more pipe I exposed the more I could verify the pipe had to be replaced. Like many older homes, part of our sewer line is still the old clay sections with tree roots welcoming their way into the cracks and forcing the pipe to collapse. With a tributary creek in our backyard, it was absolutely necessary we replaced this clay pipe with an efficient PVC. As the day went on, I continued to dig, as the pipe sunk into the ground, deeper and deeper. Saturday turned into Sunday, and we continued to dig. The clogged clay pipe oozed sludge into my trench, sticking to my shovel and smelling worse than a crap house on a tuna ship. Every stab of the shovel splattered the black foulness. The pipe was three feet in the ground and still descending, with every 4 foot section full of putrid rotting malodorous contaminated decomposing petrified poo ….(for lack of better terms). The retching of my abdominal muscles would contract at an attempt to expel the contents of my stomach at every breathe, along with physical exhaustion from hand digging this increasingly deep trench and the frustration from the pipe continuing to descend into the ground….led me to sit back (after throwing the shovel as far as I could) and contemplate what the heck I was doing…………..when two words came to mind……….. “Dig Deep”. Not your typical 340 training…but it’s how we spent our week’s end! Sarah wanted to take a picture, but I protested, with hope that this memory will fade far far away…………….. Urban Paddling 02/27/2011
 Launching from the rather unusual and difficult access along the creek  We had a great day on Saturday at the Alpine Shop's Great Canoe and Kayak Event. We set up a booth to raise awareness for River Relief and Team MoDak, and met alot of great people! We hope to see many of you on the river, or perhaps a small urban creek? We snagged the few hours of nice weather we had on Sunday by paddling Bear Creek, a small creek that slices through northern Columbia. The creek only holds enough water to paddle on during high water, which can be dangerous from the current and debris. We decided this was a perfect level for an attempt. Sarah and I paddled kayaks to better navigate the tight turns, but Jodi Pfefferkorn paddled her canoe (the same canoe she paddled in the MR 340) and maybe suprised herself as she eased over the potentially class III rapids. We had one flaw during the trip, where a log crossed the creek. It appeared as if there was room to fit under, but with close inspection it appeared otherwise! The current in the river did not allow for a second guess, so we smashed into the log , bending back as far as I could possibly bend before being thrushed under and through. As I spun around to make sure Jodi and Sarah were squeezing through, I noticed sarah had turned sideways in an effort to prevent slamming into the other boat. Once sideways, the current was too overwhelming and flipped the small kayak under the log. Falling out of the kayak, with one foot stuck inside, sarah struggled and was able to stand up, (without ever completely submerging). Fortunately the water was only a few feet deep in this section. Jodi and I were able to navigate the sunken ship to shore, fighting the downstream current, until sarah could walk back and meet up with us. We had an audience of a residential labrador and some curious people, probably never seeing anyone attempting this near their backyard. A couple other drops, a few rapids, and a couple portages around deadfall limbs, brought us to our destination off of creasy springs road. An interesting trip for all of us, and a successful one, granted some missing items and the hope of waking up tomorrow without any rashes or deformities from the questionable quality of the water!! This is your new blog post. Click here and start typing, or drag in elements from the top bar. Perche Creek 02/27/2011
We squeezed another Perche Creek run into our busy schedule last Sunday and spotted a Bald Eagle nest on a towering Sycamore along the banks of the muddy creek. We took a break from our upstream struggle to gage the size of the massive collection of branches, when we noticed a mature eagle soaring through the channel with more twigs in grasp. We watched the eagle bounce around in his castle before we noticed two or three other eagles circulating in the sky. We pulled our canoe into the bank and looked nearly straight up at the nest. The ground encircling the Sycamore was littered with duck feathers, many appearing to be Mallard. From the amount of feathers present, duck is a popular item on the menu at this eagels nest. This has proven to be an excellent area for viewing eagles, hence the name of the bordering Conservation Area being called Eagle Bluffs! Well Named! | AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesJuly 2011 Categories |
RSS Feed