Back to Voyageurs

A group of five of us are taking what I sense will be the last overnight kayak trip of the season. We will be heading back to the sometimes politically incorrect Voyageurs National Park. This time however, we will be paddling in the area of Unsighted Porcine Narrows in the Crane Lake area instead of Unsighted Native American Narrows near Namaken. The fall colors should be spectacular and I hope the fish are in the mood to surrender to me en masse'. More to follow upon our return.

On the Empire Builder

The original Empire Builder was the old robber baron, James J. Hill himself. Hill opened the northern route of the Great Northern railroad to the Pacific Northwest in the latter part of the 19th century. Today's Amtrak route from Chicago to Seattle is named after him and follows virtually the same route. Due to air fare jumps, a chance to road trip with colleagues, and my general aggravation with flying I decided to take the train back to Minneapolis from the deadly boring trade show in Chicago I had attended. The Empire Builder would make the trip in about 8 hours. I got the roomette sleeper which allowed me to work offline on the laptop, read, snooze, lounge, and savor the bottle of wine I picked up before I left Chicago. I had my 6'4" frame sprawled out, papers, books, and laptop strewn around on my little desk, and no fat guy wedged into the seat next to me dueling me for the armrest. Shoes off, feet up, and I was livin' large. It would be a pretty damn good trip.

Not having to wait in the security line like sheep at the slaughterhouse was gratifying as was walking on to the train with my shoes on, boarding pass not in hand, laptop in its case, and a breathtakingly sharp jackknife in my pocket. A person could wander the length of the train or sit in the observation car and chat with fellow passengers. It was definitely a melting pot and everyone seemed to be a a good mood. I talked with a fellow who had boarded in upstate New York on his way to Seattle; he seemed a bit toasty and had two days to travel yet. I discussed jazz and writing with a woman on her way to St Paul and sat across from a couple Amish girls quietly whispering back and forth. Two Native American guys were were heading to Spokane on their way home.

For supper a time slot is selected and a table for four was filled up with the first four people that show up. A couple train travelers I know considered this to be the highlight of their trip, meeting new and interesting people. That scenario began well when I was seated with a couple older ladies from Williston, ND. We chatted about mutual North Dakota experiences and connections and then they seated the fourth person at the table; The Babbler. She was one of the dullest human beings I've ever seen outside a funeral chapel and every sentence began with "my son" or "my daughter". Anything that was said, any topic that was introduced, could be linked to the life experiences of her offspring and it would be related to us in a voice that sounded like Alvin of the Chipmunks would sound had he taken some heavy amphetamines. I began to throw out more and more unusual topics, just to see how she could link them to her son and daughter and one of the ND ladies picked up on the game. "You ladies were in Milwaukee eh? Hell of a thing with that Jeffery Dahmer, understand he was bludgeoned to death in prison". Babbler: "My daughter was in Milwaukee, working on her Masters". Next attempt: "What do all the Russian-German people in western North Dakota think of Putin and the Georgia thing?". Babbler: "My son was in Russia presenting a paper". Damn! After The Babbler effortlessly tied 3 or 4 more remarks to her amazing youth, I excused myself and headed back to the compartment to polish off the rest of the wine and watch the Mississippi River glide by the window.

Amtrak is on the upswing and I'll most definitely ride the train again. There have been some great improvements in both equipment and staff since I last rode from San Antonio up to Tyler, TX although we haven't caught up with the European or English trains quite yet. It is a very amenable way to travel however and a fine way to thumb your nose at the airlines and all the humiliating and unnecessary bullshit they make you endure for the privilege of sitting in their arid, disease ridden cabins in their ergonomically abominable seats. As mentioned in a previous post my father used to say, If the tail's red, take the train instead". Dad, I finally followed your advice this time and it worked out pretty well.

Two good steps to protect the Great Lakes

As I sit in Chicago, nowhere near Lake Michigan, preparing for one of the most boring trade shows in the history of mankind, I read that two pieces of legislation designed to protect the Great Lakes watershed have moved forward. The first is the Great Lakes Compact which is nearing the end of its torturous journey to keep outside interests from sucking vast quantities of water out of the lakes. The other is a measure passed by the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency to require ships to treat ballast water they release to make sure that invasive species are not hitchhiking as they have so many times in the past.

The Great Lakes Compact is the most amazing piece of legislation in my opinion. It had to be crafted so it passed the legislatures and was signed by the governors of 8 states and 2 Canadian provinces. It then had to pass the US Senate, the House, and be signed by the President. All that remains to be done is for Bush to sign the thing and he claims that he will. Like all legislation its a compromise but a pretty damn good start. You can peruse the particulars here. When you consider the gauntlet of US Democrats and Republicans, Canadian Liberals and Conservatives, and various special interests and right/left wing nut cases that this thing had to get through, its pretty impressive that it passed. A few years back I cast an absentee ballot for the Minnesota gubernatorial race since I would be bowhunting on the Tuesday of the election. A friend who used to be a DFL senator (the Democratic Farmer-Labor party are our very own homegrown Minnesota Democrats) asked who I voted for and I told him Jesse Ventura. He told me, "You can't be serious!? We'd have a Democratic senate, a Republican house, and an independent governor; nothing will ever get done!" My response was, "So.....what is the problem?". In this case however, a decent piece of legislation with international significance made it through and the Great Lakes will be better for it.

The other measure is a Minnesota Pollution Control regulation to force ships to treat their ballast water before releasing it into Minnesota waters. Ballast water has been the main source of destructive non-native pests like the sea lamprey, Eurasian Milfoil, Zebra Mussels, a slew of other nasty European imports. This regulation will be completely ineffective of course, unless Wisconsin, Michigan, and Ontario decide to issue similar rules. If they don't it will be like a rule requiring that small children only pee in the shallow end of the pool. One would hope the states, and maybe even the Feds, would realize this and pass similar regulations before the implementation date of 2016. Unfortunately in many cases the cat is already out of the bag but I think an effective rear guard action will help prevent future hitchhikers from entering the watershed. I'm sure a letter or two to the powers that be couldn't hurt in promoting this important piece of legislation. For me, all it took was seeing a lamprey slither between my boots at the mouth of the Brule as I launched my boat to remind me of how destructive these invasive pests can be.

The game of musical boats

After selling one boat and buying two this summer, I'm pretty sure my boat swapping is over for the year. Not so for my fellow paddlers however. The BemidjiIntelOfficer tested and purchased a Valley Aquanaut demo on Saturday and RonO has decided its time to move the Romany S. Both boats were viewed and paddled on a unseasonably warm afternoon on the Minneapolis chain of lakes yesterday. After battling our way through sailboats, windsurfers, rec kayaks, paddle boats, fishing boats, and the occasional bobbing head of the long distance swimmer, we arrived at Cedar Lake in relative peace and quiet and were able to discuss the dynamics of the buy/sell decision.

Some people are analytical, some emotional, some impulsive, and most are a combination of the three when it comes to a new kayak. For me the idea kind of lurks in the back of my mind, in the periphery of conscious thought, until something brings it to the forefront. In the case of the Capella at the auction this spring, it was GalwayGuy's need for a better boat (that I could borrow from time to time, of course), the competitive juices of the auction, and the fact that my bidding nemesis quit long before I would have. The Q boat involved a much more analytical process. I had paddled the boat a couple years back before purchasing the Aquanaut HV and found it too small and a bit squirrelly. At that time though, I was in the market for a multiple day expedition boat with some load capacity; if I don't have my dutch oven, folding chair, and a respectable amount of beer on a trip I get surly. The Aquanaut HV fit well, handled well, and could carry the gear. As I began to work on more and more rolls it became apparent that my 'ore freighter' was the main limiting factor. There were many rolls that myself and GalwayGuy could do easily in the VOR's Avocet that I couldn't get close on in the Aquanaut. Then after one of us (I'm certain it was him!) broke the seat on the Avocet and the VOR banned both of us from tipping the thing over any more. I also was required to install a new seat in the Avocet, even though I'm certain it wasn't my 225# frame twisting around in the cockpit that caused the failure. Earlier this summer, a 45 minute stretch in the Q boat at the Great Lakes Symposium in Grand Marais, MI made me look at it in a whole new light. It handled well, rolled superbly, and fit snugly and comfortably. When the Big Kahuna sold and the Q boat turned up at Midwest Mountaineering the stars were aligned and the purchase fell into place logically as well as emotionally.

The 'BIO' was in the market and had looked at and tested boats as varied as the Impex Force Cat 3 and the CD Solstice GTS. She said that when she sat in the Aquanaut and paddled it that it just felt right as well as being narrower, faster, and more stable than her current boat. RonO was on the demo mission also and rolled the boat, paddled it, and pronounced it a fine craft. On the same day the Aquanaut was purchased Ron put the Romany S on paddling.net. The trouble is that with all the discussion of this particluar boat on P-net, we're not sure what boat it really is. Apparently neither does anyone in the message string. The discussion reminds me of trying to swallow a piece of toast while suffering from a hangover. You keep chewing and chewing on the thing but are never ready to swallow. We had to chuckle at the arguing back and forth and frankly, who cares? Its a great boat from a reputable manufacturer, well built, and it surfs and tracks great. If you jump in it, find that it fits, and like the way it handles, grab it. In the end thats what buying a new boat is all about.

Cell phone angst

I got a new cell phone yesterday. This was the 5th phone I've had since I got the amazing Palm Treo in April of last year. Various defects, breakdowns, freezeups, and unrepairable flaws caused the phone to be replaced under warranty four times. Up until this point, the most unreliable piece of equipment that I'd ever owned was a 1973 Harley Davidson XLCH Sportster. It only started when it wanted to, parts vibrated off, replacement parts were unavailable, and it was uncomfortable as hell to ride. Once when it refused to start I took a large rope and tied the front forks to my buddy's '64 Chevy bumper and tried push (drag) start it. It refused to fire. After I sold that piece of crap I rode Honda's, Kawasaki's, and Moto Guzzi's. I figured those bandits in Milwaukee owed me something for my suffering and I have not been on a Harley since.

The Palm Treo has replaced the Harley on the gold medal stand as the Absolutely Worst Piece of Gear I've owned. The one good thing about the Harley Sportster was that I didn't have to sign a two year contract to ride it. I was pretty sure I was stuck with the cell phone but its amazing what negotiation leavened with a bit of anger, humor, and threats can accomplish. I now have a different phone as well as the old one that doesn't work. I wanted to take the Treo phone on a one way ride to the hunting camp and perform an experiment to analyze the results of a collision between a 235 gr .45ACP slug and a Palm Treo phone, but Bob our IT guy, a man who is unflappable in the face of electronic intransigence, insists it has some value. The ManFromSnowyLegs, an esteeemed and estimable engineer, thought my experiement had much more value, both intrinsically and as a cleansing experience, than anything IT could do with the phone. Lately however, I've been questioning the value of cell phones in general.

Several years ago at our hunting camp on Reefer Creek, one of the four Coatian brothers, a lawyer by trade, strolled into camp with a lunch pail sized black bag and announced he had a cell phone capable of making and receiving calls from the camp. The camp is well off the grid, both phone and electrical , and is also in the absolute middle of nowhere. The last mile in has grass growing in the middle of the dirt road (in the places that don't have bottomless puddles) and the camp itself is a quarter mile walk up a trail from where the cars are parked. I can't remember exactly which right thinking individual asked to see the phone. When he got it in his hands he kicked open the door, pitched the phone into the snowbank, and announced that cell phones were officially banned from the camp. It was kind of a moot point anyhow because there is still no coverage there or within several miles but the action was applauded by those of us who savored the feeling of being unreachable.

I am resigned to the fact that I need one for work. One that can show me my email when I'm on the road is nice also but when I'm on my time the phone is strictly for my convenience. A lot of people who call are offended when I tell them I simply didn't answer their call. When I'm eating, driving, talking with someone, watching the Packers, relaxing, walking the dog, or even reading a book, chances are very, very good that I won't pick the damn thing up. Also, most of the areas where I go for relaxation don't have coverage. I usually stick the thing in my possibles bag when I'm paddling, just in case someone decides to break into my car, something that actually occurred with the first 'lunch box' phone my company thrust upon me but it does not get turned on. Seems the VHF radio is much more effective on much of Lake Superior plus everyone within range can hear it and respond. The one time I had to make an emergency call my VHF radio summoned the Coast Guard and all was well.

On one of my many aggravated trips to the Verizon store, I noticed that you could get a phone for your kid that had a gps feature that allowed you to see exactly where they were at any time. This would not have been a good thing at all for the 16 year old DaveO. I had my buddy the Commish, master of the Cous Cous, tell me his 15 year old daughter had racked up something like 1,000 text messages in a month. Thats about 30 per day. Her and her friends would sit in the car when he was driving them to some event and text rather than talk. I would think this would foster a nation of introverted nerds but what do I know?

Bottom line: I gotta have one for work, they are convenient at times personally,but cannot be relied upon. I still hope to set up, execute, and record my Colt/Treo experiment for the good of mankind but it will require more negotiation with Bob in our IT department. Maybe I'll give him a call on the ol' cell phone.......