SUPAS Launch

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOHBhPFvjks&list=UUelkT6N95m6cgpnxZXWBEig&index=1&feature=plcp
4/07/2012

This was the first day of the Stand Up Paddle Boarders Against Slavery (SUPAS) fundraising event. The SUPAS team planned to paddle from the source of the Wolf River, Baker’s Pond to the Mississippi River, a source to “sea” or rather a big river. The team and support personnel met at Baker’s Pond to both begin the journey and iron out last minute details. The team reviewed paper maps to decide on the best route to Three Bridges. GPS devices were checked. Dale showed the other paddlers how to a tie a loop at the end of their draglines using a bowline knot. This is a very useful skill and Dale is adept at using the right knot for the right situation. As part of the river guide training, I would like to see Dale teach a class on knots. This is a good skill to add to our curriculum. In addition to ropes, the sponsors’ bumper stickers were affixed to some of the paddleboards. It is doubtful that the stickers will survive the trip.
Dale led us to the water’s edge with the help of his son. The paddlers congregated on the northern shore to launch. Meanwhile, Rachel, Richard and I followed the trail to the stream outlet. From the top of the loess bluff, we could see glimpses of the pond through the tree. However to get a decent camera shot, we had to continue to the southern bank where we could clearly see the paddlers. Knee deep mud hampered the team’s launch, but within a few minutes everyone was paddling across the pond. There were only so many places to land. Paddlers could float directly into the stream outlet and face possible waist deep mud or land on a log and drag along the shore until they could wade into the stream. Either way, the team would be dragging their watercraft for over a quarter mile. Dale led the way into the stream. The brush was so dense that he disappeared after a few steps. I put on my chest waders so I could follow them through the mud and brush. I waited in the stream outlet to point out Dale’s entrance into the thick brush. I could see the familiar cones of a shrub that did much to hinder our progress on the last journey. Later, I looked up the shrub in a field guide. I need more information to be sure, but I think the plant we nicked named “hell wood” is the hazel alder. This is a native species of low spreading shrubbery, but it can grow into a tree shape of about 20 feet tall. As annoying as this bush is, it should not be harmed since it is a native species.
We continued down the shallow stream with Dale in the lead. I moved back and forth along the line of paddlers taking video. The streambed was fairly open with brush not being  constricting at this point. After about a quarter of a mile, we were almost to the unnamed beaver pond that I nick named “Beaver Brown Lake” after the beavers who created it and a nearby resident named Ms. Brown. As we got closer to the lake, I began to sink deeper in the mud with each step. I was sinking up to my thighs and without a boat to displace my weight, I could not continue forward. This was the point were I said good bye and with the aid of Rod’s paddle board pulled myself out of the mud. At times, I was even crawling on my hands and knees trying to reach solid ground. I kept moving east towards the road where Richard would be waiting for me. I crossed a couple of pools of stagnate water before reaching the eastern ridge. I broke through the brush and found my self in an open, oak forest. After being in a thicket all morning, this was a comfortable place to be. The ground was sandy on the loess ridge and the tall oaks shaded out the under growth. I found a small forest glade where I removed my waders and ate lunch. After neatly packing the waders in a backpack, I followed a game trail up the ridge flushing out a rabbit at one point. I could see the beaver lake through the trees and could even hear the paddlers. I continued up the ridge along the national forest boundary markers until I reached the road. After a short walk, I reached the place on the eastern shore where the team was landing to prepare for their trek to Goose Nest Creek.
When everyone was on shore, gear was prepared and the team pulled their watercrafts east through the forest to the creek. I followed them and watched the team descend into the fern lined ditch that would later widen into Goose Nest Creek. After they disappeared into the forest undergrowth, I returned to Richard’s truck. Mrs. Brown and her son where there in a golf cart. We talked briefly. Mr. Brown said that he believed the source of the Wolf River to be Baker’s Pond. He said the Baker’s Pond had been there since before his grandfather’s days. He continued to say that Goose Nest Lake was man made and traditionally dry except for a few small seeps. Even though the creek was flowing when we saw it, Goose Nest was usually dry. So, the controversy continues as to the true source of the Wolf. However, Baker’s Pond is now in the lead.