Headwaters of the St. Croix River 
Stunning scenery rich in wildlife and challenging rapids.  

The Upper St Croix River is filled with incredible beauty. Around every bend, there is yet another photo-op of scenic shoreline, incredible sky, wading deer, ducks and geese with their babies in line, turtles slipping away, eagles soaring, and blue herons perched on shore.

Along the way, 15 riders on horseback cross above the river on an old converted railway bridge.

On this trip, I face many challenges, including several shallow rapids encountered early on in my journey. They test my nerves and skill, and the strength of my fiberglass kayak. I take a spill when trying to pass through an impassable section, then stagger over the rocks as I scramble to catch up to my drifting kayak and separated paddle as we approach calmer waters.

As the nighttime advances, the condition of this stretch of river convinces me it’s simply too dangerous to paddle any further. Ahead, I spot a marked campsite. Reaching shore, a very large man sporting a very large beard and two very large Rottweilers appear out of nowhere. The movie Deliverance comes to mind. Within minutes and still in my wet clothes, I am sitting next to a modest campfire with a cold beer in hand compliments of this generous north woods man. We talk for quite awhile before I leave to set up my own camp for the night. I say thanks and good-bye, and then gently remove my new best friend, the snoring Rottweiler, from atop my right foot.

It takes me 3 hours to travel 7 miles the first day, a paltry pace of 2.3 mph. An all-time worst for me. Before I slip into my tent, I check my camera. My count of damaged and lost cameras is climbing.

​The next day the fear and threat of rapids and large rocks hidden just below the St. Croix River’s surface keep me on edge the entire way. All day it has also been threatening to rain. 

​The darkening sky behind me with its lightning and thunder is rapidly closing on me. It's too risky to continue. I search ahead for the river island I remember seeing a year ago. Unlike the storm, which passed just north of me the night before and flooded the streets of Duluth, this one has me in its crosshairs and has the markings of possible tornado activity.  
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This storm encompasses me all night long. I count ten long-lasting storm bursts. The rain is so heavy and the wind so strong I wonder if it will it blow me off this small river island. Sometime early morning I feel the rainwater pooling at my feet. All I can do is curl up and move further up in my tent, which I strategically placed on a slight slope for this very purpose.