This morning while Mac drove Mary Kay down to put in at Lake City, I biked down the hill from Frontenac State Park and over some back roads. The fog was fierce and beautiful, and it was the first time I have biked since Cass Lake, many weeks ago, since there isn’t really space for it when I’m kayaking every other day. But now that we’re three people again for at least a few days, I can get in a bike ride, and it’s such a great complement to paddling: paddling uses your legs sort of similarly to how biking uses your arms, and vice versa, so the combination feels like the ideal whole body exercise, as some trainer guru might say.
I’ve begun to try to invent solutions for how to continue this trip if I end up with gaps where I am alone. Mac has to leave in a couple of weeks, and while various other folks will be joining me, I can’t be sure I will have company every single day for the rest of the journey. My current idea for solo days is to leave the bike at my ending point on the river, drive north, put in the kayak, paddle down to the bike, and then bike back to the car and drive to camp for the night. The nice side effect is that I will both paddle and bike all the sections of the river I do by myself. And it’ll work fine with the one exception that I can’t load the kayak onto the car by myself: the rack is just too high off the ground and the kayak too unwieldy. So I guess I could just leave the kayak at the pullout point each evening and trust that it will be there in the morning. But if any of you have some better solution to this little problem, please let me know.
(The foggy morning cornfield is especially for Susan Sommer.)
One solution would be to trust there will always be someone there to give you a hand lifting the kayak onto your roof rack. I just find that when you think that it is possible for the implausible to happen– it in weird form ususally happnes. which is not to say to abandon making a plan B. But honetsly I bet there will be someone to help you when you need it.
I write this to you in the middle of the night from my parents home, my childhood home, where they are now both –well not doing so well with getting about. anyway it is so inspirational to find out about your mississsippi journey. I have been hankering to go explore some of the islands in the hudson river close to my home–and know i will do so because of you.
mara k loving
Wonderful NY Times article, and I’m following your journey in bunches, not every day but wait until I get a bunch behind then catch-up. This journey touches me more now that Sorrel and I have moved from NYC.
I’m so glad you’re recording, I’m envious of your access. Those river pumps I’ll bet are great. Just a small comment which you have
probably thought of alrready but try to record the pump from very
close up as well as distance to get only the rhythm and presence.
And record just ambiance sometimes from the kayak’s deck. You are so close to the river’s surface that you can use it as a reflective plain.
I’m and many others are enjoying the trip with you. Take care
Marilyn
Parev, Eve!
What a surprise and a delight to open up the Sunday NY Times this morning, over coffee in my kitchen in Bemidji Minnesota, and see the wonderful article about you. Unfortunately we found out about your journey AFTER you have already passed through, I wish we had known about your journey! There are very few Armenians in Minnesota, most are in the Cities and there are only a handful up here in the northwoods. Now that I think about it, the location of our house along the Schoolcraft River (a tributary of the Mississippi river, just south of town) makes ours the the first Armenian family on the Mississippi River, and we would have been so thrilled to welcome an adventurous Armenian explorer like yourself, and even to have paddled along with you for awhile! At any rate, we are so pleased to hear of your journey, and very excited to hear that the tale of your journey will be transofrmed into music. What a mystical and wonderful thing to do! Good luck in your travels, we will follow your diary with interest! Before you finish your journey, you should be sure to stop in Baton Rouge, another unlikely place for Armenians but one which does have a fledging Armenian church!
Seeing your face/article in the NY Times sent chills down my spine. Go Eve!
Love, Dr. Rank
Hi Eve,
I’ve enjoyed hearing about your project, and that was a great article in the Times this morning!
It’s a ways down the river, but as you approach St. Louis you might rendezvous with Rich O’Donnell, who has run the New Music Circle organization there for 50 years — you can easily find them thru google if you don’t already know them. This May composer Guillermo Galindo and I performed an outdoor multichannel radio transmission called “River of Voices” at their 50th anniversary celebration, which was also inspired by the Mississippi. We broadcast it to audience members who brought their own radio receivers and were sitting under trees and artworks in the Laumier Sculpture Park in St. Louis. Here’s the synopsis from the program:
We made a single composition/track for each of the 22 major tributaries of the Mississippi river, There are 11 tributaries that are east of the river (including its headwaters) and 11 that are west of the river, so Chris composed the West, and Guillermo the East. The compositions are often made from voices that somehow relate to the river itself – where it originates, the states it passes through, who lives there, etc – the shape of the river was used as a graphic score to control the volume of each track, creating waves that intermingle the sound of all the rivers. The form of the whole piece progresses from north to south, as if navigating from the source to the gulf: in proportion to its distance from the river’s source, each tributary’s track enters when we reach its confluence with the Mississippi, and continues until the end of the river. So the whole piece gradually increases in density, with each entering tributary contributing a different sound to the flow, which at the end includes all of them.
So, just wanting to share another approach to this inspiring them — wish I could break free to float down the river too some day — bon voyage!
Chris
Totally amazed by what you are doing. Reminds me of Lewis and Clark and a dance piece that I was in where we recreated being the river and creating a river through movement, rocks, and poetry.
You are a brave soul on a adventure of a lifetime. So glad I read the Sunday Times today to discover what is possible. Wish I could join you.
A friend sent me your link. This sounds like a great adventure! We may have a solution to your kayak loading problem. This is how we load the kayaks onto our Lincoln Navigator, and it works well.
We drape a bathroom rug over the back of the SUV, with part of it on the roof, and part of it hanging down the rear window. We use one of those cheap rugs that has rubber backing (slip-proof) and a medium length shag-like texture. From the back of the car, place the bow of the kayak up on the rug, facing the front of the car, with the stern of the kayak still on the ground (kayak is in an upright position, not upside down). Then pick up the stern and glide the kayak up onto the roof carriers. We also do this to remove the kayaks, as it help to glide them down. It’s actually very easy.
I don’t know if you have done this, but investing in quality kayak wheels is almost like having another set of hands. Invaluable. It will all work out.
“Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream.”
I just sent you an email congratulating you Kathryn Shattuck’s insightful and supportive New York Times article about your purpose and muse. I had instinctively included the above lyrics in the message and thought I’d do some cursory research about them.
It’s so strange how we learn nursery rhymes and songs without ever understanding their origins, uncovering deeper meanings or creating our own interpretations of them.
So, while this is an anthema to any serious research, I thought I’d wikipedia the lyrics. The link is below:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Row_row_row_your_boat
What I found particularly reassuring is the metaphorical meaning that is supplied:
“The lyrics have often been used as a metaphor for life’s difficult choices, and many see the boat as referring to one’s self or a group with which one identifies.[2] Rowing is a skillful, if tedious, practice that takes perfection but also directs the vessel.[3] When sung as a group, the act of rowing becomes a unifier, as oars must be in sync in a rowboat. The idea that man travels along a certain stream, suggests boundaries in the path of choices and in free will.[4] The third line recommends that challenges should be greeted in stride while open to joy with a smile.[5] The final line, “life is but a dream”, is perhaps the most meaningful. With a religious point of view, life and the physical plane may be regarded as having equivalent value as that of a dream, such that troubles are seen in the context of a lesser reality once one has awakened.[6] Conversely, the line can just as equally convey nihilist sentiments on the meaninglessness of man’s actions.”
I particularly like the import of the last line of the rhyme. Perhaps, Eve, by rowing down the river, and our travelling with you online, we seek a deeper reality, truth and purpose in life.
Thanks for taking the journey and inviting us…