JP’s Hugh Heward Challenge River Report (and Style Analysis)

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I paddled the farthest ever in my life yesterday: 50 miles. I’d probably only ever paddled 15 miles before.

Sorry this report is so long, but I can’t help it! I need an editor…but where to cut? Well, see what you think… (3 pics at the bottom if you want to skip ahead…)

So here’s both a Day Report and a Canoe Design Analysis.

The event was the 9th Annual Hugh Heward Challenge. It went through Lansing, MI, my home area. I’ve intended to do it before, but it’s early in the year and it’s darn far. It commemorates two things: a day in 1790 when HH with 7 pals and 2 boats outran chasing Indians as they paddled across the state (the first crossing in a canoe by Euros). It’s also the Verlen Kruger Memorial Paddle. VK was the one who first verified that HH could’ve paddled that far in one day. VK was also a Lansingite and the most famous canoe adventurer of modern times (he died a few years ago). He was an early inspiration for me in my own adventuring and I got to visit and paddle with him a few times. About 50 paddlers do the event each spring.

TWO WORLDS

I’m also peripherally involved with both the canoe touring and the canoe racing worlds. Yet I’m not THAT involved as I do most of my paddling on my own, just down the road. I now suspect that the two scenes are farther apart in some ways than I had thought.

My racer pals told me to train to get ready for the event, so I went out a few times and put in a few hours of hard jamming. Just enough to stave off shock to the tendons. It seemed like I was headed for something serious, like a ski or running marathon.

I had a partner to start with, a racer pal who ended up getting another partner, probably because he thought I wasn’t serious. I’d threatened to do this event other years. Then the gang helped me find another racer partner, who bumped me the next day when he got a much better offer. Then a strong young friend contacted me—but he’d never paddled far nor been in a tippy race boat nor knew good ergonomics to get the most out of a stroke. I figured that I needed fast-tech and that this would be an overly long (and extra-wet) day for a newbie, so I reluctantly said no. …If I only knew then what I know now!

THE SETTING

The Grand River was high and fast, but not in flood.

About 50 touring paddlers started at 7 a.m. A dozen racers started at 9. I had to wait to get my borrowed canoe from a racer, so I got going at 8:30. So I was already way behind the tourers, but not far ahead of the speed demons.

My boat was loaded with a change of clothes in a drybag, a gallon of water, 5 slices of pizza, and a handful of powerbars. I can go forever on pizza! …Anything else lets me down.

The first half of the day was lovely.

The river wound for a couple hours through neighborhoods back up on the riverbanks. Then it went through downtown Lansing and over 2 portages (friendly helpers!), with the nice Riverwalk on the east side. On the west side there was one interesting feature—one property’s back slope was protected from erosion by wandering tiers of fieldstone. It didn’t seem like it was accessible from above nor was it maintained—it was just made nicely years ago.

During the 2nd half the river is sometimes plowed all the way up to the lowland side and has a high oak ridge on the other side. These features alternate with the oxbows. Grand Ledge is the last portage and the halfway point. It’s a fairly straight 12 miles to the Charlotte Bridge, the last bridge before the river enters the wild and scenic Portland State Game Area, there the river makes several large oxbows and uses up 10 miles to travel 3 by the crow before finally entering Portland with its several lovely wrough-iron bridges and well-preserved downtown.

The PSGA is wonderful in the shallow waters of summer: you can see the bottom easily through the clear water. There is a lot of plant and aquatic life to observe, lots of birds (ospreys and eagles, too!) and lots of critters on the riverbanks. And good, diverse fishing!

We reached the PSGA at 4pm and got rained on there a few times. It would rain hard…then harder…then harder yet. The third time it doubled its force I had to laugh. At least it wasn’t windy. It was warm enough out that hard paddling kept me warm. It put about 10 lbs of water into my boat in 2 minutes.

“ADVANCED” CANOE PERFORMANCE ANALYSIS

Here’s the deal: Boats suck!

Literally.

Water drag really holds a boat back. They use the same dynamics as bikes, except water is more like molasses than air. In this way, boat performance can be frustratingly different from bike performance.

I used a solo kevlar racing boat and a carbon paddle. I brought a GPS. The river was flowing fast at 2.5mph. When I floated along lillydipping (hardly paddling) I’d go about 4mph. I went 5mph with a bit of friskiness. If I put muscle to it and used good technique I’d get 6mph. Real hard effort was 7mph. My racer pals out there in tandem canoes were probably going 8mph. Maybe the tourers went 4-5mph. So that’s the range of speed you’re talking about with canoes. Of course, for actual hull speed, take 2.5 mph off those numbers and you get the truth: boats aren’t very fast. And a fast river gives almost half your overall speed. But it’s all relative, right?

At the end of a huge 50-mile day on a fast river these rates mean: 7 hours for racers, sportsters 9, tourers 10, casuals 11.

In the short-run, it seems like a fast paddler can go all-out for a half-hour and only gain 100 yards on a slow barge. Then an hour after you pass them, if you stop for a moment, the tourers will glide past you again.

So maybe it’s more like cycling after all: I often find on a bike tour that when I go fast for a couple hours then stop at a cafe that slower pals who just keep moving end up getting to camp sooner. Tortoise and hare, baby!

Verlen’s motto was “Keep it moving.” His rule is: as long as you don’t stop you can go far. …But I also learned that day that if you paddle medium-hard you don’t go much farther! So maybe another rule is: when on fast water, be mellow, keep it moving, and enjoy!

It’s not so hard! If you want to do a long day, just give yourself plenty of time. Start at dawn, bring a lot of food and water, a couple changes of clothes, and a map and flashlight. Sunscreen, bugspray and ibuprofen. You’ll get there!

A fast downstream river is quite an equalizer—use any boat ya got and paddle it however you like and you’ll do fine. Kick back enjoy the day. Use a classic touring boat and load it up with your favorite gear. Have picnics from a hamper along the way—don’t stop, just pass the sandwiches back. It’s not that much slower than paddling (medium)hard in a carbon boat.

Now, one will always have an easier day of it in a light, swift boat. And in a narrow boat the paddling motion is nicer, less straining. A foot brace feels good. It’s all good, but its virtues stand out more in slower water, on lakes, or in adverse conditions.

Of course, a light boat is also handy to lift anywhere—which is at least a few times per outing, if only the 4 times when you’re loading from garage to vehicle, vehicle to water, and back.

Lastly, although I grouse about how slow even fast boats can seem, a sleek boat is a lovely thing to paddle. I enjoyed watching the long, narrow, translucent golden bow jutting out in front of me—it *seemed* to fly along and glide away the miles.

ENTER THE RACERS

The pack of 6 topnotch race teams took a couple hours to catch me. I heard them and looked back and saw them strung out behind me. Within a few minutes they zoomed past and were out of sight again. They passed me like I was standing still.

Of course there were two of them per boat, both twice as fit as me, in a boat faster than mine, so their pace was no surprise.

The paddlers in the first boat looked like graceful animals. They had their shirts off. Waists about 12″ wide, shoulders about 30″. I could see dozens of articulating muscles working in concert as they swooped past me. I never knew you could use so many muscles to paddle! They were leaning forward at almost 45 degrees. It seemed like the length from their waist to the end of their top paddle hand was about 6 feet. Amazing!

I used to be a bit of a racer-type years ago. It was fun to fly along. I remember getting the boat up on plane and keeping it there. I remember wake-riding and jam after jam… But it takes focus and hours of training. It rules out sightseeing! And everything else as well! As with everything, you can’t have your cake and eat it too. I think it’s good to know how to paddlle efficiently, but I think I’d rather have the wide-ranging world of touring than the refined thrill of speed.

…AND THE TORTOISES

An hour later I caught up to a bunch of tourers and was yet again amazed by what I saw. Several were in blobby 9-foot WalMart kayaks, going in circles, with their feet up on the deck, like college kids on a weekend float. !! I had thought that the tourers would also be hard-core, like randonneur bikers.

The crazy thing is that it took me a LONG TIME to catch up to these lillydippers once I got them in sight.

After I passed them I paddled with purpose for an hour or two. I was hoping to at least say Hi to the racers and other tourers at the halfway point lunch stop. But when I got there, no one was there. I took a snack break and changed clothes (the first cloudburst had just hit) then got going again—and the laughing group had caught back up with me! It seemed like the Twilight Zone.

I note that when I paddled alongside one touring canoe it seemed like it was gliding nicely despite the mellow output of its paddlers.

THE DAY UNSPOOLS

The miles went by nicely, bend after lovely bend. What a great way to spend a lovely day! There’s always something subtly interesting to see, if only the different arrangements of turtles on logs.

I spent most of the day alone, marooned between tourers and racers. I simply started too late. If you’re anything but a racer, ya gotta start at 7 a.m.! The solitude was fine, but it’s nice to not be totally outta the social loop.

I should’ve just backed off since I wasn’t going to save much time or find any group to paddle with. Those I caught were going just too slow (even though they were never far behind!). I passed up a bunch of neat fun-stops and photo-ops—rats! Early on I didn’t stop at Jim Woodruff’s Landing. He’s the river historian who inspired Verlen to do the event. He and a group were hanging out down by the water. They offered me strawberries… But I passed them up! I still thought I was going to find the main group of tourers and racers at the lunch stop. I even passed up Verlen’s Landing nearby.

KRUGER’S WORLD

I passed a pair of Kruger canoes about halfway—one with guys, one with girls—kind of lightly going along. I chatted with them then asked the young-looking girls how many years they’d been paddling. A couple, they said—today was for training for them. Training for what? “The MR350.” That’s a 350-mile ultramarathon down the Missouri River!!! I asked, How long will that take? “Maybe 70, 80 hours.” I looked at them more closely and asked how old they were. “12” …WHAT!? I asked the other girl. “13” …HUH??!! “Yeah, those are our dads and they’re going to follow us in the race.” The 12-year-old said, “My dad and I already did the WaterTribe 300 in the Everglades.” I said, WOW, THAT’S AMAZING. They both said thanks brightly…and kept on down the river.

The Kruger boat is very popular in this event. It’s also hands-down the world-favorite for all-rounder long distance canoeing. It’s stable, light, capacious, and seaworthy yet still quite swift.

It was neat seeing all the Kruger boats out there. I’d always peek into the cockpit and see the decal that Verlen handpainted and signed, with the butterfly and boat number.

There were various expedition decals on the outside of those boats, too.

A little later I passed Charlie Parmalee in another Kruger boat with another guy in touring C1. Charlie is doing the Ultimate Hugh Heward, replicating the entire spring-time crossing of Michigan by HH in 1790 from Detroit to Chicago. Now they were on the Lansing leg. Charlie seemed to be in a distant state, like I imagine thru-hikers get into when they’re hiking the whole Appalachian Trail, very relaxed, just moving down the river.

ECONOMY, WHAT ECONOMY?

On the website for the UHH event I notice that they waived the entry fee due to the bad Michigan economy. Hey, when your state is thrown into a primitive condition, why not camp out? Maybe live off the land…bring your fishing rod, turkey gun and a bag for wild asparagus and morels. At least, if you did it pure, you wouldn’t have utility or gasoline costs while you were on the water. You could even cancel your cellphone. I did see several people talking on cells as they paddled. I suppose it goes without saying nowadays. Heck, I’d be making a Blackberry sweat out there now, if I had one…

Still, in hard times, why not just go camping? The whole state can start meeting up outside during these lean days. Then, like the rest of world, STAY outside even after times get good again. Hey, our state is the fattest and sickest, right? What’s neded? FRESH AIR, PEOPLE! If healthcare costs are skyrocketing the only cure is to BE HEALTHY! True unavoidable fate probably only accounts for a small fraction of the sickness of Michiganders. C’mon, people!

Go put in at the river down the road and see how far ya get. Maybe hitchhike a lift home in the back of a pickup (bring tie-down straps). Or skip the ride and paddle 2/3’s of your outing upstream then turn around. Cost? Pizza!

SIGHTSEEING

I did get a photo of a 3-storey treefort out lonely in the woods on the riverbank. I love treeforts enough that I had to stop for that one.

I also saw a scene of amazing contrast: on one side of a lonely stretch of low riverbank was a one-room jiffy shack with toys strewn around it and a short smokestack jutting out a window at a 45-degree angle. On the other side of the river, up on a high bank, was a brand new, huge cabin-style mansion.

I appreciate river-houses of all kinds.

I saw several square 50’s Bauhaus Modernist houses: very cool. I saw quaint old cottages. One huge stone Tudor-type mansion—couldn’t tell if it was old or new.

On a half-mile stretch I saw miles of blue wires and white wires about 3/4″ thick coursing through the woods and along the shore, willy nilly. What could that have been? Maybe electronics, maybe not. Maybe maple syrup tubing? I’d think that season is over.

IN THE ZONE

Several rainstorms hit in the last couple hours. I was paddling with a couple guys in a nice homemade wood-strip touring boat at the time. We’d be chatting then WHAM a monsoon would drench us for a few minutes. We groaned a bit, but we were in the “gitterdone” zone.

There wasn’t much shelter out there, I noticed, so if it had gotten chilly and windy one would really need raingear or wool, or the need to finally grab whatever shelter you could find.

I finished at 6pm. A half hour later, the circling brood of bobbling kayaks came in. Those guys looked pretty tough, actually—they were just in some crazy boats. They had said they were friends from church. Maybe they were from The Church of the Special Forces.

I congratulated them. We toasted each other. My racer pals had finished a couple hours earlier and cheered me in, saying I did good for a first-timer in a C1. I wanted to unwind a bit and visit with folks, including the wide diversity of touring paddlers who I never caught up to. One guy was paddling around the whole USA, I think—“Coach” Larry—he had a folding bike in his boat and trailer wheels, so he could tour overland as well. You see, tourers come in a rainbow of styles while racers tend to similarity in their pursuit of that sweet spot that lets them fly down the river. But my racer pals needed me to help shuttle them back to the start. So I had to leave quick, and once again I was marooned, this time from the finish party! I did get to meet some neat people along the way, though, and had a dandy time, all in all. Next time: I’ll find a partner and start at 7! …And if the water is high, I’ll use a tour-boat! …Or will I? Canoeing is mysterious…