RAGBRAI on the river . . . ?
No thanks! Rivers are for paddling - not pedaling!
Back in the 1970s, as The Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa (RAGBRAI) was taking the state by storm (or by wheel and spoke?) I passed up an opportunity for fame and fortune . . . or possible disaster.
After yet another successful RAGBRAI week, Don Benson, head of the Register’s promotion department, cornered me in the newsroom with an idea. “You like to canoe, don’t you?” he queried. “Of course!” I responded enthusiastically.
“Let’s do RAGBRAI on the river,” Benson beamed. “With canoes!”
I cringed! Having heard tales of thousands of bicyclists clogging Iowa’s back roads, and camping and partying in small towns, I couldn’t imagine unleashing such a throng on MY favorite Iowa rivers. Margaret and I once spent an entire summer paddling 1,200+ miles on the Voyageurs fur trade route through the Canadian wilderness, only occasionally seeing other travelers or encountering civilization. But inviting a few thousand folks to join us? Unthinkable! I promptly burst Benson’s bubble – probably with not very diplomatic language.
As much as I admired my colleagues John Karras and Donald Kaul and Chuck Offenburger for making RAGBRAI an Iowa institution, I had to admit the event was not my kind of fun/work! It is hard to just ignore a few thousand bikers, however, so I photographed the spectacle a few times. And my kids tried to sell health-conscious cyclists carrot sticks and celery when they passed near our hometown of St. Olaf. (Guess what? Many bikers prefer pie!)
While RAGBRAI rolled on to international acclaim, I continued to search for every excuse I could dream up to write a story about paddling the solitude of Iowa rivers. In 1976, Margaret noticed that our canoe license number was 1976. That gave us a legitimate reason to explore a half-dozen rivers – and to write a series for The Register.
About that time, the DNR for a few years sponsored a Governor’s canoe trip to entice the media and a few politicians to get acquainted with Iowa rivers. Bob Ray (and his State Patrol escorts!) seemed to enjoy his brief float on the Boone River.
In 1993, Register editor Geneva Overholser signed off on a “research project” for me to paddle the length of the Des Moines River through Iowa to prowl the water corridor and meet river folks. Now that’s an assignment every outdoor writer dreams of!
Remember 1993? We paddled just one day in May on the rain-swollen upper Des Moines before realizing our folly. We temporarily suspended the idea for a few days, then weeks, then months, waiting in vain for safer waters. We were lucky. Residents of Des Moines had to wait just for drinking water, after the Des Moines Water Works was inundated. Other communities all over the state suffered countless flood calamities.
Undaunted, we tried again in September of 1994. This trip went much better, with favorable water levels and the company of a few avid paddlers who joined us from time to time. No crowds.
And what a great way to see the state and get acquainted with river people. We still hear from friends we made on that adventure.
Despite the publicity and positive reception to our stories, paddling remained a pastime for relatively few people or small groups. A youth camp or college students might muster a flotilla of a dozen canoes at most
.
Then, in 2003, project AWARE (A Watershed Awareness River Expedition) was born. https://www.iowaprojectaware.org/ A few dozen volunteers floated part of the Maquoketa River, picking up trash and camping along the way. I tagged along with camera and canoe.
To the credit of Brian Soenen and other organizers, AWARE caught on to became an annual event, visiting a different river almost every year since 2003, other than the Pandemic season of 2020.
The statistics are impressive: almost 6,000 people have participated, removing nearly a million pounds of trash while cleaning up 1,371 miles of rivers. Impressive for a river event . . .
Impressive until you consider that maybe 10 times that many people joined RAGBRAI on ONE recent HOT day . . .
Although I pedaled my Schwinn fat-tired, single-speed bike the seven miles to town a few times to play in a Pony League baseball game, I never became an avid biker. And certainly not avid enough to bike 500 miles across summertime Iowa with 40,000 of my closest friends.
We’ll stick to a leisurely float down the Turkey River, maybe casting for a smallmouth or two among the rocks at the base of our bluffs. If we see a couple of eagles, or a pileated woodpecker, or a doe and her fawn, that’s all the company we need.
Thanks to the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative for reconnecting me with several old friends from my 25 years as outdoor water/photographer with the Des Moines Register from 1972 to 1997. Plus the group has helped me discover the talents and insights of a new (to me) set of writers. I‘m looking forward to sharing my Iowa roots, memories, observations, frustrations, and joys with those folks - and with readers.
I come at this endeavor as an Iowa farm kid who has never outgrown playing in the “crick.” I believe that every kid should have that same opportunity to go outside and get muddy. And I can easily wax nostalgic about the wild places we have lost in my seven-plus decades on this planet. For more about where those times, people, and adventures have led me, here’s a link to my website.
To see commentary by some of Iowa’s best writers, please follow your choice of Iowa Writers’ Collaborative members:
Delightful, Larry. Thanks for sparking canoeing memories for me. Any day on the water is a good day…until, of course, it isn’t.
I remember a lovely group trip on the upper Missouri in Montana with you in 1989. My parents, Don and Luella Reese, invited me. Canoeing is a delight.