Chris Johnson’s 2002 Adventure
(Note from Tom:
Chris Johnson is one of the most interesting of our former colleagues, and his adventure kayaking from Canada to Mexico has been a feature on our website for the past couple of months. But Chris has met with fate in the form of a huge fish ..)
May, 2002
Hello again everyone,
It looks like it’s that time again. I’m due for another escape from the rigors of social conformity and pursue ADVENTURE! Don’t worry; I’m not walking across another continent—once was enough. So, in the immortal words of Monty Python: “… and now for something completely different.”
This trip is strictly water based. I’ll be climbing into the cockpit of a river kayak around June 1st at Glacier National Park in Montana. The Milk River starts there and begins its journey north into southern Canada. In Alberta, the river turns south into the U.S. again, allowing me to eventually fork off to the Missouri River, then the Mississippi River, and finally the Gulf of Mexico. Once I reach the Gulf, I’ll paddle west to Mexico. That’s where this new adventure will finally come to a close. I’ll be touring America north to south instead of west to east.
The entire trip should take me less that three months, although I’m allowing for the possibility of four. I’m really very excited and training hard. I will do my best to keep in touch, though that may be difficult, as I will only see towns on my occasional replenishment visits. That also means there will be very few phone calls, so you probably won’t get to hear from me outside of the occasional email. I hope all of you understand.
Everyone at ASEPCO has been extremely supportive with my new adventure and have even chosen to track my progress across America via their website. I’ll be checking in with them every seven to ten days with an update of where I am and what’s happened and as often as possible, I’ll be sending them pictures.
Well, that’s all. I wanted to make sure all of you knew what I was up to. For those that are worried (Mom), look at the bright side, it’s only 3 months this time and there is no chance I’ll run into another bear or fall down another mountain side.
I look forward to having all new stories to share with you in a few months.
Chris
Sat, 22 June, 2002
Got a phone call yesterday from Chris. He was at Lewis & Clark National Park in Lake Sakakawea, North Dakota. Lake Sakakawea is also part of the Missouri River. He said the trip is going well and that he’s gone just shy of 500 miles so far.
About 2 days ago he got caught in a bad storm on the Yellowstone Confluence. He was battling it for 7 hours and had to deal with winds up to 40 MPH. He said that when the wind was in front of him it would actually push him backwards and that the waves were coming in at 3 feet from all directions.
On a funny note, at some point on the river he was almost capsized when a sturgeon jumped out of the water and hit him. Now these fish can get up to 5 feet in length so you know it was a pretty big fish to almost knock him over.
He sounded in good spirits and says that at the next town (20 miles away) he may go and have some pictures developed. If we get any of these, we will post them.
Till the next update….
Postcard received Fri, 28 June, 2002
A ring-neck rooster pheasant’s brilliant plumage, contrasts with the North Dakota winter landscape near Williston.Photo by Glen Ronglier
“Hundreds of miles, the Canadian Border, the Milk River, Montana, Lake Sakakawea and most of North Dakota are behind me and 8 more weeks of adventure will find me in the Gulf of Mexico.
This has been an amazing journey so far.
I hope you are all Happy, Healthy, & Laughing Often,
Love, Chris”
Date: Tue, 2 July, 2002
Chris’s journal of the first 15 days of his adventure…
Day 1
Considering all of the delays associated with getting started (like blizzards in June, 2 feet of snow in 90 minutes, what’s that all about?) I wasn’t permitted to shove off on a route that would take me into and out of Canada unnoticed. Canadian Border Guards refused cooperation, 9/11 fears. I completely understand and am actually okay with it, at least I know they’re keeping us safe, too. I guess I won’t be the first one to travel Canada to Mexico via this route after all. What matters is I’m free—finally made my way beyond the guilty gravitational pull of social conformity. Hooray, free again!
Day 2
More Canadian geese, ducks, owls, blue heron, deer, and beaver than I can count. Weather today is beginning to warm. After the winterland storms, it may actually have reached 50 degrees Fahrenheit. I rolled my kayak for the first time today. Stupid mistake trying to navigate the shoreline near a large dam. Water must’ve been 40 degrees (glacial water, go figure). Ended up dragging my kayak and waterlogged gear, shivering and naked, about a quarter mile through woods. Didn’t want to put my spare clothes on a wet body. Thank goodness this is such a desolate region of America. I can’t imagine what would’ve gone through the minds of any witnesses. “Why is a naked man carrying a kayak through the woods?”
Day 7
My pace is still strong, my average is running just over 50 miles a day. I made it to the Missouri River today, southeast of the Missouri Fort Peck Dam. The water is so incredibly clean and clear on the Southwest half of the river. I can watch the rocky bottom speed past my hull as I paddle down stream. Even the fish, 4-5 feet below are crystal clear as they dart from my boat. The opposite bank is the muddy color of the Milk River from their confluence. In a few more miles the muddy silt will contaminate the beauty of the Missouri. Really a shame. I’m camped on a small beautiful island in the river. It was nice to bathe in clear/clean water tonight. Today is a good day.
Day 9
Strange day today. This morning I passed 5 vultures side by side on a thick branch. I laughed as images of Disney’s “Jungle Book” came to mind with the animated vulture intended to resemble the “Beatles” broke into song. Then, a few hours later, near the Yellowstone Confluence….Wham! The biggest damn fish I’ve ever seen slammed into the starboard stern, near the rudder. There was enough force to throw the back of my kayak 3-4 feet to port! The kayak immediately went into a roll and I was reacting so instantaneously toward recovering that I don’t even know for sure how I stayed upright. The fish splashed about for a few seconds, then disappeared. Must’ve been close to half my 17-foot kayak, no idea what it was, but it really scared the hell out of me. I hurt my shoulder, too. A brilliant shock of pain, like lightning striking across my neck and shoulder. I’m a bit worried, as it’s still hurting now at camp. As if images of singing vultures and attacking river whales weren’t enough to occupy my mind, 2 hours before stopping to camp, gunshots started firing from a clearing a hundred yards ahead of me. I wasn’t sure which bank, so there was no safety zone. As I got within 50 yards, the bullets were splashing into the river directly ahead of my kayak. I finally saw/sensed movement on the left bank and maneuvered the kayak to that bank as quickly as I could. When the bullets continued to hit the middle river, I realized it was someone shooting at debris, not me (although it was damn close). I hollered a “hold fire” and four drunk hicks with .22 rifles looked over the bank edge at me, mumbled some annoyance at my interruption, then waved me past, got into two pickups and drove away through the field. They never even knew I was floating down river surrounded by the debris they were shooting. How drunk do you have to be to not see a red and yellow 17-foot kayak? Scary day! (Side note—a week later I learned that the fish that hit me was one of two candidates spawning in that area: Palid sturgeon—prehistoric, endangered. Gets up to 6 feet and 80 lbs…paddle fish$mdash;common, often killed by fishing boats, over 6 feet. up to 180 lb.).
Day 11
Today was my most challenging and exhilarating at the same time. I underestimated a pending stormbank and chose to ride it out. By the time I realized my mistake the storm had come in quickly and severely, littering the banks with trees, logs and limbs that swung treacherously back and forth on the wind-induced waves, blocking escape. The winds must’ve climbed over 40 MPH, which on the wide Missouri as it becomes Lake Sakawea, is awe inspiring. I spent seven hours battling gale force winds, 4+ foot waves, rain and sleet, all combined with the ever present debris. As often as possible, I kept the wind to my back, surfing down river on 4 foot swells. Each time I rounded a bend, the waves and wind would attack from port or starboard, striking me at waist, armpit and shoulders with strong breaking waves which I would lean into nearly to the roll point. As I would round new turns the assault would come head on. With my bow only get completely over one of every four waves, crashing straight through the belly of the other three. Despite the danger, I couldn’t help but be exhilarated by the power of the storm and the battle I was in. I found myself hollering into the wind and sleet as each new wave crashed over my bow, trying to force me back upriver. I was cheering and laughing with excitement each time a wave caught my stern, with the powerful winds at my back, half throwing/half surfing me down river. I would growl and yell as each wave struck me broadside in turns, refusing to be rolled or dominated. I yelled challenges into the wind and reveled in battle! When the storm finally passed, 7 hours later, the thrill wore off, exhaustion set in and I made camp early. Those winds blew me 56 miles in seven hours!
Day 15
Calm day today. My second day off in an effort to help my shoulder heal. Despite recommendations, I refuse to quit. I will relaunch tomorrow and rest 60 minutes for every 30 minutes I paddle. I will do as much as I can to allow it to heal while I travel—more rest, more stretching, changing paddling techniques—I’m not going home! I crossed the Milk, Montana, Lake Sakakawea, and most of North Dakota. South Dakota is just a few days away and damn it, I will see it! The park ranger came to my campsite today to warn me a “severe thunderstorm warning” is in effect until 1 p.m., an hour later, as I was tying my kayak, bow and stern to trees, I looked across the river (which is now becoming Lake Oahe) and saw odd clouds. It immediately occurred to me that there will be a tornado (this is the beginning of Tornado Alley). I looked down and finished my knots as the wind blew around me. When I looked back up, I saw the last 40 seconds of a tornado flying across the ground a few miles away. As it sucked back up into the sky I was filled with amazement at what I’d just witnessed. The storm was blowing diagonally away from me, so I was not in any danger, but it occurred to me that a distant town was 5 or 6 minutes later. As I was finishing additional tie downs for my tent and gear, I heard the distant “Danger” sirens in that town about 10 miles away. At the same moment, the sun was coming through the trees and the wind around my camp was becoming a gentle breeze. Amazing. “The danger is past” came to mind as I considered tomorrow’s launch.
Date: Tue, 9 July, 2002 – Received this email from Chris to pass on to everyone…
My newest adventure has been an incredible experience to date.
I watched a tornado pass a couple of miles from my tent on the opposite side of the Missouri, I’ve been attacked by a 6+ foot Paddle Fish weighing over a hundred pounds near the Yellowstone confluence, I had four hicks on the river bank shooting debris around my kayak with rifles (dumb rednecks were so drunk they thought I was a log or something & damn near shot me),
I got caught on the river in a severe storm that raged with 4 foot waves and 45mph winds for 7 hours before I was able to get to a safe landing… and a few other exciting stories. I’ve seen incredible wild life, amazing landscapes and met some really wonderful people.
I’ve covered just shy of a thousand miles in 24 days, clearing the Milk River, Montana, North Dakota, most of South Dakota, Lake Sakakawea, and Lake Oahe. I am now on Lake Sharp and not too far from the Nebraska border.
Now for the bad news… It’s July 3rd and the trip is officially over as of today. Roughly two weeks ago, when the paddle fish struck my boat (broadside, starboard stern), I separated a ligament in my right shoulder. I didn’t know at the time that the injury was a serious one, all I knew was that the pain of the moment was brilliant. I got off the river, considered my options and chose to seek a doctor.
I was en route to medical attention when I got caught by an unexpected storm that raged for seven hours with severe conditions, making the safety of the banks inaccessible due to treacherous debris on chaotically crashing waves along the shore lines. Despite the pain, I had to fight the weather for 7 hours without a break for my injured shoulder and was washed too far from the nearest town to be able to back track against the current.
The next opportunity for help was two days away. I managed a total of nearly 4 full days of constant paddling on a separated ligament before I got somewhere for medical attention. I was told the ligament was separated, would require 8 weeks to heal with the possible need for surgery and that the trip had to end.
I sought a second opinion (I didn’t believe the severity of the diagnosis) and was told that actually, in addition to the separated ligament, there was also damage to the muscular tissue around the scapula and along the trapezious as well as a pinched nerve caused by the swelling (this explained why I was losing all feeling from right shoulder to finger tips at random intervals while paddling).
I told the doctor that if I could make 4 days with that kind of an injury, then I certainly I could continue and would not stop. He admitted with a smile that he was anticipating that response and offered the best advice he could. He made some recommendations for stretches and told me that if I could genuinely tolerate the pain then perhaps I could get as far as the next state line. He warned me that when my body was nearing a point of permanent damage, it would shut down the injured area to protect itself and I would not be capable of continuing no matter my determination or constitution. He expressed, forcefully & repetitively, not to force my body beyond that shut down stage or the damage would become permanent and mostly irreparable.
I made roughly 500 miles of progress and nearly reached the Nebraska border. I believed I may have been growing slowly stronger as I adjusted my paddling techniques and rested at length anytime the pain grew nearly unbearable. Unfortunately, however, a particularly rough and difficult day resulted in a dramatic downturn in my condition. The day before yesterday, I reached the shut down point I was warned about.
The almost 500 miles were not nearly enough for a successful completion to my newest adventure. I tried diligently to handle the pain associated with 12-14 hour days on the river, however, the day before yesterday was particularly horrendous.
I took yesterday off to consider my options and was plagued all day by convulsive spasms in the ligament/shoulder that have, at points, brought me near tears. I’m hoping that, upon rediagnosis, I will not discover that surgery has become a requirement and that my stubborness didn’t push me to go too far.
I truly believed I would be able to control my injury and the circumstances of my environment. Unfortunately, I was wrong. The penalty of arrogance I suppose. Despite the endurance of the last 16 days, I will not be able to continue. Much to my immense disappointment, I will begin making arrangements tomorrow for my retreat to California.
Of course, there are bright sides…
* The tornado wasn’t a few miles closer
* The paddle fish didn’t eat me
* The rednecks didn’t shoot me
* The storms didn’t engulf me
* I survived another wonderful adventure!
I will be returning safely home in a few days to begin considering my next expedition (which will, of course, be a much more valuable success now that I have had my first taste of failure).
I hope all of you are doing well and that you’re happy, healthy, and laughing often.