From its twisting and turning headwaters in northwestern Wisconsin to the surprisingly wild channels less than an hour’s drive from the Twin Cities, a paddler could spend a lifetime exploring the St. Croix River and still find surprise without even seeing all of its 150 miles.

It is my goal to acquaint myself with this beautiful river as best as I can. I go to it in spring, summer, autumn and winter; I believe you must explore a river in all seasons to fully appreciate its essential character.

I always go for a paddle shortly after the ice breaks up, eager for the sights and sounds of migrating birds returning home, uncounted numbers singing from every bank, the faint green haze of fresh buds on the trees, and the first delicate wildflowers amongst the detritus on the forest floor.

One year, I paddled the river with my mom for Mother’s Day. Fortunately, the current moved us along at a good pace, because we were frequently distracted from paddling by ornithological observation. For a while, a Bald Eagle led us downriver, flying out of trees overhead as we approached, then disappearing around the next bend, only to repeat the act once we caught up.

Summer is high season on the St. Croix, when the rental canoe businesses send flotillas downriver in jubilant cacophony. It’s not hard to get away from the crowds, though, with just a little effort and adventure.

When you do find a quiet piece of the river, there is no better place to be on a hot, sunny day. My wife, the dog and I slowly drift downstream, stopping to swim where spring-fed creeks enter the river. At these points, where the cold creek water mingles with the warmer water of the river, you can find the temperature that is just right for you.

Our last paddle of the year is usually in October, when the summer crowds are difficult to imagine. The bold greens of White Pines and cedars stand in stark contrast to a brilliant palette of autumn colors on the bluffs. You might see duck hunters in flat-bottomed boats with a happy dog in the bow, or some late-season anglers, but on a warm, sunny fall day you might also have the river all to yourself.

Yet, the solitude of October is no match for that of January. Then, the river’s life demands an observant eye and an appreciative spirit; if you look, your reward might be a hawk seen soaring above the trees.

Even in the deepest cold of winter, springs seep from the bluffs and spill into the river. One winter day, I snowshoed with friends through deep snow along a spring-fed creek just above where it entered the river. We marveled at the abundant green of watercress growing in a few inches of water, even though temperatures the week before had been 20 degrees below zero.

The creek ran through a campsite I knew only from warmer seasons. I had often camped or stopped there for lunch, like I reckoned people had been doing for a long time. Standing there in snowshoes and winter layers, my mind drifted to memories of muggy summer afternoons when I had dunked my head in a pool of cold, clear creek water right next to the site’s picnic table.

Today, I didn’t dunk my head. We sat on snowy logs and ate sandwiches as the water went on tumbling over rocks toward the frozen river.

Related posts:

1. Middle March
2. Twitter Weekly Updates for 2009-10-09
3. Legacy Amendment money at work in St. Croix watershed

The view from the bow

St. Croix River Awareness Week is almost here! As I first posted about in April, the St. Croix River Association and its partners are organizing a week of events to enjoy and help protect the river. They’ve recently announced the schedule, which I’ve included below. The week will feature clean-up canoe trips, family-friendly seminars, film showings, and lots more.

I’ve included R.S.V.P. links for Facebook for some of the events. These are not official registration pages, but are an easy way to share with  your friends that you’re planning on attending one of the events. You can see the full list of events on Facebook here.

Whereas…

It’s also worth noting that several communities along the river have officially proclaimed the week St. Croix River Awareness and Clean-Up Week. Kudos to St. Croix County, WI, Marine-on-St.-Croix and Afton, MN, and Hudson and St. Croix Falls, WI.

In that vein, I too have unanimously passed my own resolution. As editor and administrator of the 14,000+ fan St. Croix River Facebook page, and editor of this website, with full jurisdiction over both virtual properties, I hereby proclaim July 17-25, St. Croix River Awareness and Cleanup Week (PDF proclamation) and encourage everyone to celebrate and to engage in voluntary clean-up of river bank litter.

Personally, I hope to be able to get out for one of the clean-up canoe trips this weekend. But I may be too busy putting the finishing touches on my own project for the river: a new community journalism and advocacy website focused right on the St. Croix River watershed… Stay tuned!

Events Schedule

Saturday, July 17

• Kid’s fishing at Willow River State Park, Hudson
  • 9:00 am to 12:00 pm
  • Equipment, worms and mentors supplied. Prizes by age category for largest, smallest and most fish. State park pass required. Kids 4-12. No license required under 16.
• Canoe Trip on the St. Croix River and River Cleanup
  • 9:00 am to 4:00 pm
  • Sunrise Landing to the main boat landing in Wild River State Park
  • Meeting Location: Main Boat Landing, Wild River State Park
  • This is a rain or shine event, but not if an electrical storm is imminent. Bring your own lunch, water, gloves, insect repellant, and sunscreen. WRSP will provide bags for collecting your junk, river interpretation during the canoe trip, and disposal of our trash. Kia Donais, will be rewarding all participants with watermelon at one of our stops! Canoes will be available for rent at WRSP from Eric’s Canoe Rental 651-270-1561. $40/canoe which includes a shuttle to the Sunrise Landing area. Walking and cleaning the river at entry and exit points would be very helpful too. For the latest information. More information »
  • R.S.V.P. on Facebook and invite your friends
• Boomsite clean up
  • 1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m., Boomsite (just north of Stillwater)
  • Sponsors: River Market in Stillwater and Friends of the Boomsite
  • R.S.V.P. on Facebook
• Nature Lab: Wolves
  • 1:00 to 4:00 p.m., Cable Natural History Museum
  • How big is a wolf track? What is the difference between a wolf and a coyote? What do wolves sound like? Are there packs along the Namekagon River? Stop in the Cable Natural History Museum to talk with a National Park Service Ranger and get answers to these questions and more. Plus make plaster wolf tracks to take home with you. For information, call (715) 635-8346.

Sunday, July 18

• St. Croix River Clean Up Canoe
  • Kayak from Osceola to William O’Brien State Park
  • 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
  • Meeting Location: Osceola Landing
  • Back up rain date July 25th. Lunch stop below the swing bridge. After shuttling back to pick up cars at Osceola, plan to gather at William O’Brien for a pot luck social. Bring lunch, water, gloves, sunscreen, hat, and canoes/kayaks. Clean-up bags provided.
  • Contact: Sally Leider 651-433-4286 or sallystcroix@mac.com
  • R.S.V.P. on Facebook
• Canoe and Annual Meeting Apple River Association
  • 11 a.m., Meet at the parking lot of Parker Creek DNR Property on 35th Avenue, Polk County
  • Boat up this cold water fishery and back to the Apple River. Not strenuous. Canoe on the Apple as well, through Little Falls, Rapids Class 1, maybe 1.5. Annual Meeting nearby at 410 125th Street. Signs Grillables and beer provided. Bring a dish to pass. Peter Henry 715-268-6893

Tuesday, July 20

• Youth Action Hudson clean-up
  • 10 a.m. to 1 p.m.
  • Meet at the bandshell with a BBQ lunch to follow.
  • Contact: Amy Nowicki, amy.nowicki@youthactionhudson.org
• Clean Boats, Clean Water
  • 2 p.m., Lakefront Park, Hudson, WI
  • Come and learn about cleaning boats before launching and after taking them out of the water to help prevent the spread of aquatic invasive species.This program is intended for school-age children and their parents. Program includes stories, songs, activities, an optional craft project and an opportunity for participants to demonstrate what they’ve learned by examining and pointing out why the boat on site is not ready to go into the water.

Wednesday, July 21

• Paddle to Seattle
  • Festival Theater, St. Croix Falls
  • Taylors Falls native J.J. Kelley is a filmmaker who lives in Washington, D.C. and works for National Geographic. He produced an independent film last year picked up by PBS Wisconsin. It’s a fun and gorgeous adventure film where J.J. and a friend build two wooden kayaks and paddle from Seward, Alaska to Seattle, Washington. See a trailer at the movie’s website.
  • Being broadcast on PBS July 22nd.
• Putting the Pieces Together; From the River’s Point of View
  • 6 p.m. to 9 p.m., Hudson waterfront
  • $15 pre-registration required
  • Fifth in a series of DNR and partner sponsored workshops designed to help communities better understand their role and options in protecting the St. Croix’s scenic and natural values. This workshop will offer a “view from the river” session where local communities will have an opportunity to showcase practices they have implemented to restore ecologic functions of riparian corridors and tributary streams, protect scenic qualities and recreational values as well as to improve water quality. The session will include discussion about the challenges, barriers and strategies developed by communities in rural, suburban, and urban areas. The workshop will also offer breakout sessions that begin to answer the questions that local community leaders continue to ask about their role in protection the river valley: Why is it so important? What should we do? How do we begin? Register here.
• Guided Boat Tour: Still Waters
  • 7 to 8:30 p.m., Stillwater Boomsite Wayside
  • The St. Croix River north of Stillwater, Minnesota, is a place where people and water merge with time. It is a historic and fragile area, laced with long, narrow, tree-covered sand islands and lined by steep limestone bluffs. Join a National Park Ranger aboard a park boat to explore this special place during a 1½ hour guided tour. Life jackets provided must be worn. Space limited.
  • Registration required. (715) 483-2274.

Thursday, July 22

• Junior Ranger Program: Bald Eagles
  • 10 to 11 a.m., Weiss Community Library, Hayward
  • Paddlers on the St. Croix and Namekagon rivers sometimes glide right under this magnificent national symbol. Learn about the life history of bald eagles by acting out their behaviors. This fun program, along with other activities developed for children ages 8 – 12, will help you to earn a National Park Junior Ranger badge and certificate. (715) 635-8346.

Friday, July 23

• Native Landscapes
  • 7:45 to 8:30 p.m., St. Croix River Visitor Center, St. Croix Falls
  • The restoration of native plant species brings benefits to land and water resources, wildlife, and people, while also helping create healthier lakes and rivers. Join a National Park Ranger to learn more about these benefits and see what is currently blooming in the native landscape area at the St. Croix River Visitor Center. (715) 483-2274.

Saturday, July 24

• Wet ‘n Wild St. Croix River Day
  • 11 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., Minnesota Interstate State Park
  • Prepare to get wet and wild as you fish with MinnAqua, paddle the St. Croix in a voyageur canoe, search for mussels with area researchers, get an up-close look at fish in a 100-gallon aquarium, dive into the history of logging the river, and more!
  • R.S.V.P. on Facebook
• Budd Access Grand Opening Celebration
  • Kinnickinnic River Land Trust.
  • See www.kinniriver.org/field-trips

Sunday, July 25

• Twilight Paddle: Full Thunder Moon
  • 5 to 8 p.m.
  • St. Croix River, Wisconsin and Minnesota Interstate State Parks to Osceola Landing
  • Meet a National Park Ranger at the Wisconsin Interstate St. Croix River landing at 5:00 p.m. or the main river landing at Minnesota Interstate State Park at 5:15 p.m., then embark on a 6 ½ mile paddle to observe the river at twilight and learn about the special nature of this protected area. Participants must provide their own canoe/ kayak and other gear, including a personal floatation device. Shuttle service is not provided as part of this program: canoe and kayak rentals and shuttle services are available through area outfitters licensed by the National Park Service. This program will be cancelled in event of inclement weather. There is no charge for the program, but an annual vehicle sticker or daily pass is required to enter the state parks. For information or a list of outfitters (715) 483-2274.
  • R.S.V.P. on Facebook and share with your friends!

All Week:

• Taylors Falls Scenic Boat Tours, narrated history, wildlife and geology, some dinner cruises. More information »
• Taylors Falls Canoe & Kayak Rental celebrating 100 years this season.  Book online & save $3.
• Canoes and Kayaks, narrated history, wildlife and geology. More information »

More info:

• The full and still-being-updated list of events is available on the St. Croix River Association’s website.

Related posts:

1. St. Croix River parks launch family event summer series
2. St. Croix River Week coming this July
3. How online communities can combat graffiti vandalism of natural wonders

Dawes, who I wrote about seeing last Friday at Taste of Minnesota, has been featured by music website Daytrotter. The four live tunes are unsurprisingly excellent, but the stream-of-consciousness essay about the band, its music, and life by Sean Moeller that accompanies the music is worth the visit alone:

“Since we first met the four men in Dawes a year and a half ago, we’ve spent a lot of time with them. We’ve spent days with them in barns, freezing all of our asses off, drinking lots of whiskey, hot apple cider and hot chocolate. We’ve seen them hop out into the yard and chase around barnyard animals, squawking and fussing to get out of the way. We’ve seen them get very little sleep and spend every waking hour singing and playing, just spilling with what they have running through them. We’ve spent a 4th of July with them, standing beneath a menacing purple-black sky full of storm clouds, rain and a couple hundred dollars worth of illegal fireworks. There have been babies in our families named after them. We’ve talked to them for hours until our throats were raw with the task and the effort, turned husky but still happy to have done it. We’ve come to love them as brothers and yet, through all of it, what still remains untouched is their ability to make us gasp with the purity of what they do and who they are as a group of musicians. Even a close friendship doesn’t dull one’s sense of awe when it comes to their debut album “North Hills,” a live show that’s absolutely a religious experience and new songs that are just as good and scarily meaningful. They never cease to make us stop and account for our own deficiencies – not in a destructive way, but in a way that forces us to be closer to ourselves and those that we tell ourselves we loved and are told that we’re loved by…”

Keep reading: Dawes: Daytrotter Session recorded Jul 8, 2010.

Related posts:

1. Peace in the valley

About the same time Gabe arrived at the house to go fishing on Monday, the rain came back in a big way. A strong storm had come through earlier in the afternoon, but was followed by sun breaking through clouds. Now, though, it was falling again, seemingly harder than gravity could be responsible for, perhaps somehow projected down from the heavens.

Gabe dashed in the front door from his car and we stared out at where the canoe was sitting on the grass of the front lawn, just needing 10 minutes of work to get it on top of my car. We finally went to look at the weather radar on the computer–which told us it was raining and would be for a while–and when we returned to the front door, it had subsided.

We donned rain jackets and went out to strap the Wenonah on the car. The theory was that the showers would be sporadic and, on a warm day like this, not worth discouraging a fishing trip.

Driving east on Highway 36 the skies really let loose and we laughed a little bit about the fact that we were driving through such weather with a canoe on the car and fish swimming in our minds. But, we figured we’d get near the river and wait for it to let up. If it didn’t? Well… it had to.

The skies weren’t giving up any helpful information as we approached the landing and when we pulled up to the river it was still coming down good, but by that time we’d driven all the way out there so what the heck, let’s go. We paddled away from shore with our hoods up and our hats pulled down and some rocky shoreline on the opposite bank in our sights.

I should say that perhaps only I had the rocky shoreline in my sights. Rocks generally mean smallmouth bass, which I was itching to target with a new Sage 8-weight fly rod. My paddling and fishing partner, on the other hand, has recently been smitten with fly fishing for carp (of all things!) and wanted to return to a mud flat upriver where a big one had snapped him off the day before. But first we casted at the rocky shoreline.

It was good we didn’t venture far from the landing, because almost imperceptibly, the rain stopped, the skies brightened, and I realized I had forgotten my sunglasses in the car. The oversight was understandable, considering the weather we had launched in.

After stopping to pick up the sunglasses, we struck off upstream. The water was high from a wet series of weeks, but the current was manageable. We dug in a bit and made it up to the first bend, where on the outside a bunch of snags against the bank usually hold some fish.

We took turns casting toward shore and the fish were willing if not enthusiastic. I was in the stern and, as much as I love the pull of a smallmouth on the line, I was enjoying just as much maneuvering the canoe while Gabe casted. I’ve been sitting in the stern of that boat for about five years now and I really love it. At seventeen feet, with 1 1/2″ of rocker and a nice wide beam, it’s proven itself as a great St. Croix craft. It turns sharply but it tracks well enough, and it’s stable enough for steady Gabe to stand in the bow and cast, or for our oblivious dog to shift her weight suddenly without putting all of us in the water.

The river was absolutely calm. The water was like glass, and white mist was rising, seeming to get held up on the white pines which towered over the other trees on the bluffs. It was evening now after a long and busy holiday weekend. Occasional canoes, kayaks, and pontoon boats passed by quietly, the stragglers of what had surely been a steady stream of people enjoying this gorgeous river all weekend long.

I continued seeing what I could do with my paddle. A draw there, a stroke here, and a canoe can move and turn all at once, in any possible direction. When you start to know how the paddle and the boat interact, it seems like you can move across the water on the power of thought. If you’re targeting spooky fish, or slipping through a narrow, twisting channel, a cooperative canoe becomes your dear friend and ally.

Carp were still on Gabe’s mind, so we headed up a back channel that entered the river here. Ahead were broad, shallow silt flats ringed by grasses and other water plants.

As we eased the canoe up the channel, big swirls started to appear at the edges of the open areas. Reeds and grasses were sent swinging back and forth as unseen creatures below the surface rooted around at their bases.

I gently pushed the canoe along while Gabe stood in the bow and looked for fish. If not the nudging of weeds, they would be revealed by a steady line of little bubbles on the surface that were sent up by feeding fish. When he spotted a target, he would send long, precise casts across the water to a spot just a few feet away from the target. Slowly he would twitch it a few times. Nothing happened.

We continued on exploring the backwater. Red-winged blackbirds perched swaying on tall grasses; a mature and immature bald eagle screeched back and forth at each other as we approached, stopped crying when we stopped approaching, and then flew off in separate directions. A tiny bird dive-bombed the immature bird its whole way across to the next stand of trees.

My carp-targeting friend continued to stalk the fish; he even got two brief takes. But the fish seemed to sense our very presence as we approached. I was taken again with how quiet a canoe can move through calm water. There seemed to be no resistance to our passage.

The day began to dwindle and in the morning it would be time to return to work after four days away. We set off up the channel, seeking its upstream connection to the main river. We found it but of course the entrance was blocked by a big snag. We precariously pulled the canoe over the big trees and then paddled out into the main channel, where we headed back down toward the landing.

Related posts:

1. Fishseasonrivertime
2. Paddling and fishing the trout rivers of western Wisconsin
3. Trip Report: Camping, canoeing, and fly-fishing at St. Croix State Park

There’s a river running through the city
Gently reminding me what’s what.

- Dawes, When You Call My Name

I’m heading out fishing in a short while, whenever Gabe gets here. The river is up high from a wet stretch of weeks and in fact the tornado sirens reportedly went off briefly out in Stillwater an hour ago when a fierce line of storms blew across eastern Minnesota. I swam in the St. Croix yesterday, no better way to beat the heat on such a muggy day. I want to get back in it today, though I’m afraid I may be confined to the canoe with the good beaches all underwater.

This is the first weekend in perhaps a month in which obligations have been outnumbered by unplanned hours. It was a busy June and I just need to accept it and acknowledge that the commitments were positive: a wedding in Portland, my mom’s retirement party, a successful canoe trip with journalists for work.

Katie and I took Friday afternoon off work to go to the Taste of Minnesota where we saw Retribution Gospel Choir and Dawes play. We wanted to stick around for the evening when Minneapolis hip-hop stars Atmosphere and P.O.S. were playing, but we had a sick dog that we didn’t want to leave at home too long.

The two bands we did see were worth the vacation time, the ticket price, and any effort of getting ourselves to Harriet Island. Retribution Gospel Choir (featuring Alan Sparhawk [and Steve Garrington] of Duluth band Low) was typically face-melting, as the kids say. Melody climbing out from under noise, masterful guitar work, chaos coalescing into harmony. It was an atypical venue, a tent at a family-friendly event on a Friday afternoon before a holiday weekend. When we arrived, folk-country singer Justin Townes Earle (son of Steve Earle, named after Townes van Zandt) had recently finished, and the seats were full of middle-aged couples and others who didn’t look much like the crowd the last time we saw RGC at the Triple Rock Social Club on Minneapolis’s West Bank.

It felt strange to sit down and take in a show by a rock band like them, but I honestly couldn’t complain. We scored a couple chairs at a table and I drank my Summit EPA and enjoyed the craftsmanship–even though I’m not sure everyone else did; several folks found it not to their liking and excused themselves from the tent.

We went right up to the front for Dawes and I don’t think many people stayed sitting. The band from Los Angeles’s Laurel Canyon then proceeded to defy my expectations. As most good electric alt-country-folk-rock acts do, they turned up the volume from their album recording (“North Hills”) and really put on a show. The crowd returned the favor.

The guys in the band seemed genuinely blown away by the audience reception–wild cheering and big smiles. They even played an obviously unplanned encore, which is really the only good kind of encore. We got our hands on a vinyl copy of the record afterward and shook hands with the lead singer, who enthusiastically autographed it.

If I don’t find peace in the valley
I’ve got no place else to look.

- Dawes, Peace in the Valley

Related posts:

1. Recent Twitter updates (2010-02-26)
2. How far we’ve come
3. Recent Twitter updates (2010-03-05)

The wildness, beauty and joy of the upper St. Croix River really shines through in this piece from the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel by Paul Smith, the paper’s outdoors editor.

We push off and begin a leisurely trip down the river. The banks are lined with alders, white cedar and an occasional white pine; the water is pocked with gray boulders.

The river here is Class 1, meaning “no worries.” Bartz paddles solo, Zeug and I share a canoe. We dwell around the deeper holes, casting with floating crank baits and soft plastics.

When the canoe scrapes bottom, we get out and pull. The water is 70 degrees Fahrenheit, a near match for the air.

“I think I’ll just stand here for a while,” says Zeug, standing calf-deep in a gurgling, natural Jacuzzi.

He wouldn’t have to move because of river traffic or bank-side voyeurs: over five hours, we don’t see another human being.

The description of their stop for lunch, which closes the article, is alone worth the read.

Related posts:

1. Seasons of the St. Croix
2. Twitter Weekly Updates for 2009-09-04
3. Songs of the decade

An astute commenter on the interview points out that the idea that most modern literature is about wrongness (not to mention Shakespeare, Greek tragedies, and the Old Testatment) is not a new one.

Nonetheless, Ira Glass breathes life into the matter like no one else.

Do you consciously think about wrongness as a narrative device?

I don’t go looking for stories with the idea of wrongness in my head, no. But the fact is, a lot of great stories hinge on people being wrong. In fact, we’ve talked as a staff about how the crypto-theme of every one of our shows is: “I thought it would work out this way, but then it worked out that way.”

Sometimes that wrongness exists in really small ways. We did a story this week about a man who saves people on a bridge in China. It was kind of a radio cover version of a magazine piece by a guy named Mike Paterniti, who started out thinking the man was going to be this inspirational Gandhi-like figure. And then Mike gets there and the guy turns out to be totally gruff and barely talks to him. That’s a small wrongness, but it’s the pleasure of the story. If you just showed up at the bridge without the setup of thinking he’s going to be a great guy—if he just starts off as a grump—it’s less pleasurable. It’s less fun. The collision of reality against expectation is what makes it work.

Why is there such a big payoff for the listener in stories about wrongness? What makes it so pleasurable?

Well, if the story works, you become the character, right? You agree with their early point of view, and then when it gets shattered, you are shattered with it. So in the storytelling, you want to manipulate the evidence and the feelings so that the audience is right there agreeing with the person who’s about to be proven wrong. When that happens, if it’s done right, you as the audience get flipped upside down.

Later, the interview explores the subject of Glass being wrong in his own work and life. Glass talks about going into a story thinking it will be great and finding out it doesn’t work (which seems to happen more often than not), and dismissing story ideas that later make award-winning radio. He also recalls committing a lewd act as a junior high boy that is so embarrassing to even think about that he can barely force himself to share it.

But he does share it. The successful and ground-breaking radioman doesn’t try to make himself look better, but rather seems to find interest and joy in his own wrongness, just like he does when producing a radio story. Which makes sense in the context of another excerpt from the piece:

There are definitely lots of things that I don’t want to be wrong about and will fight to the death over, and I’m totally obnoxious about it all the time. But I also feel like there’s a kind of discovery that you’re wrong that, in a safe situation, can be a real pleasure. Do you know what I mean? Like when you’re arguing with someone you love and you realize, “I’m wrong, you’re right,” and you come together in that moment. It’s such a relief. To me it’s so obvious that some kinds of being wrong are OK.

Read the whole thing, it’s worth it.

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Listening to Jazz 88′s program “Bluegrass Saturday Morning” is a weekly tradition for Katie and me. It’s often the soundtrack for coffee, breakfast, reading. The easy start to the first day of the weekend. Host Phil Nusbaum‘s pleasant voice and steady delivery is matched by his enthusiasm and deep knowledge of decades of bluegrass and Americana music.

I turned it on in the kitchen this morning when I got up and then I started the coffee. We didn’t listen long, though, because once the coffee had brewed we left the house to head down to the St. Paul Farmer’s Market; our first visit of the season.

The first stop for us at the Market is always the bagel stand, where we get bagels with egg for breakfast while we strategize our shopping. This morning, a bluegrass duo playing in a tent nearby grabbed our attention. With bagels and coffee in hand, we wove through a stand of beautiful flowers and took our positions to eat, drink and enjoy the music.

When the first song ended and the banjo player said “thanks” and introduced the next tune, we realized that he was none other than Phil Nusbaum himself! Even though Bluegrass Saturday Morning was still on the radio (it goes from 7 a.m. to noon every Saturday), I had known that it was generally pre-recorded. Nusbaum was both on the air and in-person, a critic and a creator.

He and his guitarist then played a whimsical version of the Beatles’ “Yesterday,” Merle Haggard’s “Wine and Roses,” and another tune or two while we stood watching. They weren’t playing anything very fast, but rather just easy-paced tunes where both instruments and the vocals could have the time they needed to really be appreciated. The combination of a seasoned banjo player (playing what appeared to be a very seasoned banjo) and a guitarist with a relaxed singing voice was perfect for the mellow, cloudy, cool morning.

When our bagels were gone, I threw a couple bucks in the open guitar case in front of them, and we wandered off to shop the market. They were taking a break when we left an hour or so later, our arms laden with flowers, flats of herbs for the garden, and other goodies. When we got in the car to drive home, Bluegrass Saturday Morning was still on the air and Nusbaum was narrating a review of bass and baritone singing in bluegrass music.

Related posts:

1. How far we’ve come
2. Snowy day haiku series

- Okamoto Kanoko, 1889-1939

twenty days
of sojourn in the woods
and yet
not a single tree willing
to take me in its warm embrace

- Ibid.

Related posts:

1. Middle March

To get to the Little Yellow Banks canoe landing at St. Croix State Park, you first drive five miles of paved road from the highway to park headquarters. Then you drive another five miles of gravel road to the landing.

By the time you get to the landing, you feel like the hustle and bustle of modern life is pretty far away. The river–wild, undeveloped, beautiful–does nothing to dispel that feeling.

I left the Twin Cities last Thursday afternoon with my dog Lola and drove an hour-and-a-half north to the park. My buddies Eric and Gabe had spent the previous two nights in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness and were going to meet me to camp that night and float a few miles of the St. Croix River in the morning and do a little fishing for smallmouth bass.

Big park, big adventures

At 34,000 acres, St. Croix State Park is Minnesota’s biggest state park. It contains 217 campsites, 127 miles of hiking trails, and large swaths of unbroken woods that are home to wolves and bears.

It also includes 21 miles of the federally-protected St. Croix River and seven miles of the Kettle River, a state-listed wild and scenic river and also a popular paddling destination. It is surely on many peoples’ list of top paddling destinations in the state. (View a PDF map of the park.)

When I finally arrived at Little Yellow Banks, it was about 4:00 p.m. The landing is named after the tributary which joins the St. Croix at that spot. It was where, during the 1890s, a logging railroad dumped timber into the river to float down the river to mills downstream. Today, the backwater at the confluence is a quiet, remote place.

And the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel of mosquitoes.

The dog and I had no interest in sitting around feeding malnourished insects, so we hopped in the canoe and pushed off into the river to wait for our companions. Away from shore, the mosquitoes subsided and I was able to really relax and soak in the silence and beauty of the river.

A night in the woods

When the other guys got there, we drove back out the five miles of gravel (spotting deer, grouse, and a fox), then a bit further down another one of the park’s long roads to the Sand Creek Landing. There, we left one car to spend the night, and we returned to Little Yellow Banks.

The landing doubles as a campsite for river canoeists. We figured that we were within the guidelines, even though we hadn’t actually paddled up to the site, as we would be paddling away from it in the morning, and we parked our other car 100 yards up the road at the parking lot. Then, we set up the tents and otherwise made ourselves at home for the night.

Once it got fully dark, the mosquitoes subsided but a more welcome insect appeared. The flickers of fireflies began to pop up around us. Some of them blinking on and off, others fading in and out. If you looked closely, you could perceive at least a couple different colors of luminescence.

As we prepared dinner of New York Strips over the fire and couscous, a park ranger drove up and we talked fishing for a few minutes. He told us that in a night of fishing on the river, it’s possible to catch a sauger, catfish, smallmouth bass, northern pike, walleye, and maybe even a muskie.

Recently smitten by smallmouth bass on the fly rod, I have kept busy the past couple years seeking out new stretches of the St. Croix to pursue the fish, once said to be “inch for inch and pound for pound the gamest fish that swims.”

In the morning, I was hoping to get a fish or two on a new fly rod I had recently acquired. A heavier weight than my usual trout rod, it could cast in the wind of the open river and throw the big, non-aerodynamic flies that seem to sufficiently antagonize smallies to convince them to attack it.

A wet and buggy start to a great day

It rained most of the night, but we were warm and dry in our tents. It was just me and Lola and the hope that the rain would taper off by morning. It did, though when I crawled out of the tent, the skies still looked threatening. Weather worries quickly dissipated though, as I was attacked with renewed gusto by the site’s mosquito population.

I rousted the other fellows, expressing my rather urgent need to know where they had put the bug dope. As soon as they opened their tent door, they suddenly found the motivation to get moving, too.

While the tents were taken down and camp otherwise deconstructed in surely record time, I made a pot of coffee. We were on the water very shortly, seeking relief from the swarms. And then the rain picked up again.

Despite appearing to be the type of rain that sticks around all day, the skies actually dried up pretty soon and we were able to relax. And the morning got steadily better. There was not another soul on the river, it seemed, and the banks were wild, without a cabin or any other sign of human visible.

The early June river-bottom woods were as lush and green as anything ever is in Minnesota. A steady chorus of birdsong rang out from the banks, the soundtrack to any good St. Croix excursion.

Going with the flow

The great thing about floating a river like the St. Croix truly must be the relaxed pace of the trip. You don’t need to worry about paddling much if you’re distracted by fishing or conversation; the steady current will keep you moving just fine.

While Gabe casted at every possible fish holding spot to no avail, Eric and I caught up on each other’s lives, while also finding time to solve many of the problems of the world and admire the scenery.

The seven miles down to the Sand Creek Landing passed pretty uneventfully. The clouds slowly broke up. We saw some folks on shore doing trail work. A very big bald eagle soared out of trees overhead a couple times. A couple fish were briefly waylaid.

After a few hours, we arrived at our take-out and the end of our short trip. We had only seen about a third of the river the park contains, not to mention the other 250 miles of federally-protected river, including the St. Croix’s biggest tributary, the Namekagon.

Below our takeout, the river splits into two channels for about five miles, with the Kettle River Slough containing some reportedly fun rapids as the St. Croix approaches the mouth of the Kettle. There’s a big ledge at the end of the Slough where it rejoins the main channel.

As the epilogue to his 1960s history of the river, the writer, conservationist and historian James Taylor Dunn wrote of paddling the length of the whole river with a friend. Here’s what he wrote about paddling St. Croix State Park’s rapids:

“…[We] stopped for lunch just below the mouth of the rocky Kettle River on one of the three large islands which divide the stream. These islands, which extend through the seven miles of rapids, are high-banked and crowned with magnificent century-old pines.”

We drove back up to Yellow Banks, retrieved the other car, and then loaded the canoes and gear and headed for home. Mosquitoes sneaked into my vehicle while we loaded up, and my drive was occasionally punctuated by swatting one of the little pests.

See for yourself!

• Canoeing 101  – On June 12 and August 14, St. Croix State Park is offering “St. Croix Canoe Cruise” programs. A naturalist will provide paddling basics, and then lead a 2-hour, 5-mile trip down the river. Visit the park website for more details.
• Rentals – Pardun’s Canoe Rental rents canoes and provides shuttle service in the park, as well as at its location in Danbury, WI (approx. 15 miles from the park). They can offer advice on trips of different lengths, and handle the logistics of transportation.

Related posts:

1. Canoe trip report: 2010 Waterfowl Harassment Tour
2. Paddling and fishing the trout rivers of western Wisconsin
3. St. Croix River parks launch family event summer series