Woodward's Landing

Blue River Clean Up

  What better way to spend a rainy March Saturday than picking up trash along an abused urban waterway?  The Lakeside Nature Center of Kansas City sponsored the annual Missouri Stream Team clean up on the Blue River on the 27th.  My daughter and two of her friends braved the light drizzle along with several hundered other volunteers to pull plastic, styrofoam, bottles and other litter from the brush along the Blue.  Our little group took on the stretch along Mine road.  Fortified by donuts, coffee, and teenage energy, the girls picked up five bags of trash. 

 Follow the muddy track road!
 

Kawlloween 2009: The Wrath of the Kaw.

  The Kawlloween, the year's final race put together by the gang at Rivermiles.com, is a bittersweet event, both a cap to the paddling season and a celebration of the same.  Most of the river rats gathered Halloween morning at the Lawrence, Kansas boat ramp were veterans and die-hards.  This year, the 31st of October set the starting temperature in the low-to-mid fifties with a wind from the west at about 12 mph.  During most of the 35 miles to Edwardsville, KS, the wind would be at our backs or on a beam. 

 The Start!  Photo by Karin Thomas
 
  Old Crow and I had teamed once again for mutual support and camaraderie. We had been looking forward to this for some time and were relieved to find the climbing sun burning away a low layer of dingy clouds.  Before the starting air horn sounded I shucked off one of my own "layers" as the morning's chill was fading and I suspected I would soon find myself overdressed. 

  Low water raised the sandbars to a troublesome level.  The main problem with Kaw sandbars is that unless they are above the water, they are invisible in the muddy water.  Old Crow and I had some tense moments when we chose our course poorly and wound up dragging bottom.  Once, the sandbar stretched across the entire river (I believe) and there seemed to be no escape.  Shortly after this bar, Old Crow managed to caught his bow carry-loop on a slender snag near the shore where a channel should have by rights existed (it did not).  This was a feat that could not be repeated intentionally once in a thousand times.  I paddled back upstream against a fair current, paddling past him so I would float back to the snag.  The current kept pressure on Old Crow's kayak making it perversely difficult to shift the loop off the nib of a snag holding it.  Several long minutes later(all the while trying to keep my own boat under control) the loop slipped free and the Crow went twirling away in the current, paddling hard to keep out of the shore brush already reaching for him. 

  Old Crow mentioned he must have offended the River Goddess in some way.  I remarked that it must have been hubris.  He thought if that were the case, I would have been swamped and eaten by a monster catfish within the first mile.

We grabbed a quick break and a sandwich at the midpoint, all provided by O.C.'s wife and ground crew. 

  The race became longer after that, our energy wearing down near the finish point at the Edwardsville ramp.  The fall colors and crisp temperature moderated by a warm sun made race a memorable cap on the 2009 paddling season. 

Finish line sprint    Photo by Karin Thomas 

 I finished sprinting with another racer while Old Crow cruised up behind us a minute later to a small crowd of officials, racers, and ground crew.

Old Crow in the home stretch. Photo by Karin Thomas
 

 Tired, we loaded our boats onto Old Crow's truck and mixed with the small crowd of racers, officials, and ground crew before claiming our trophy mugs and heading home to await the trick-or-treaters.   If you like racing, reading water, and fall weather, try the Kawlloween. 

Finish Line Booty

Autumn Update, October 9, 2009.

  Autumn has arrived with cooler than usual temperatures.  This, for a paddler in the Midwest, is not the best news.  I waited until noon for the temperature to rise but by the time I put in at Lake Jacomo, the mercury had only creeped to forty degrees.  Heavy rains the day before had left a lingering shawl of gray clouds stretched over the sky.  The lake was empty of boats, but scattered groups of geese and other waterfowl bobbed over small waves.  I paddled north into a moderate breeze, trusting the weather report that it would top at 13 mph.  The rich offering of fall color on the hills and shore, the energy in the air, and the smell of the water made braving autumn's first chill worth while. 

Missouri River Relief: Kansas City Clean-up '09.

Missouri River Reliefis a non-profit organization dedicated to increasing the health and welfare of the Missouri River both as a source of drinking water and recreation.  This organization does this in-part through grassroots, volunteer river clean-up days from St. Louis to Yankton, South Dakota, and by raising public awareness of the issues.  Impressed by their website www.riverrelief.org, I took my teen-aged daughter and one of her friends to the Kansas City Clean-up on the first Saturday in October. 

An Evening Paddle with the Kseakayakers.

This evening my schedule permitted me to paddle with a local group known as the Kseakaykers.  It is a social paddle; there were about a dozen boats that launched from the Jacomo marina about 6:30. 

 
Gathering the Fleet. 

Truman Lake: Waves Among the Timber. September 27, 2009

A friend and I were supposed to hit the Big Muddy (Missouri River) this morning but he called me around six of the A.M. and said he was under the weather.  Plan "B" found me traveling to Clinton, Missouri to see what the west end of Truman Lake was doing. Truman is the largest lake in Missouri and was created by damming the Osage River in 1979.  Eager to get on the water and looking for a new place to explore, I put in off Highway 13 just south of Clinton, the nearest bit of lake.

Lake Jacomo: Beavers and Warthogs. Sunday, September 20, 2009

    Driving past the yellowing cornfield on the way to the lake, I noticed the woods along its border had lost their deep green of summer, the leaves of various trees turning to their particular autumn hue with some seriousness now.  Farther down the road, half-a-dozen crows were at the roadside under a black walnut tree, pecking at the fallen nuts that had been crushed beneath passing cars.  In honor of it being two days before the Autumnal Equinox, I decided to abandon my physical training theme for the day and just poke around Lake Jacomo.  At mid morning, the air was sixty-ish cool, overcast, and tinged with that peculiar softness only autumn brings. 

 The ramp at the north marina was empty when I arrived--most of the fishermen had started out hours before.  I launched Stolen Moment and paddled across the lake and south into a ghost of a breeze.  On the east shore I met a water snake that was making its way back to the sheltering weeds; I gently stroked its back with my paddle blade just to make a connection with it, and by way of counting coup.  The snake took the touch with grace, continuing at an unhurried speed to the weeds.  The encounter happened so fast I did not try to get my camera up for a photo. 

Welcome!

  Woodward's Landing is a place where paddlers can pull out of the stream and relax for a moment with a kindred spirit.  At the Landing you will find a paddling journal, information on Missouri and Kansas paddling destinations, races, and info suited to the interest.  Beach your boat and stay awhile.

 

Lake Jacomo: A Great Day to Paddle. Saturday, September 5, 2009

  There is a dying oak tree near the boat ramp at Lake Jacomo's north marina.  This morning a dozen vultures were roosting in the skeletal branches; they watched me pass by, speculative looks on their narrow faces.  I launched my kayak, the Stolen Moment, and paddled north into a slight breeze and calm water, taking my usual route around my favorite nearest lake. 

Jacomo's north marina.

  

I reached what I call Memorial Rock in about fifteen minutes. This rock, formerly a chunk of the 10 ft. bluff on the northwest shore, has a wreath of faded plastic flowers tied into the sparse vegetation growing on its crumbling top.  I have yet to think of a pleasant reason someone would place plastic flowers on such a rock.  At this point, if I haven't already done so, I am reminded of my own mortality and put my canned air horn within easy reach (if you paddle shallow rivers or are just starting your paddling adventures, the air horn is to scare away lake monsters and vision-impaired power boat pilots, mostly the latter).